“Are you ready?” Alyssa’s voice on the other side of the door stirs me out of my thoughts.
Alyssa is young and cool and very much new to the world of professional sports, but she’s taking it in stride. She’s eager to learn and doesn’t seem to know how to say no to anyone. A nice trait to have—the former, that is. The latter could use some work, especially if she plans on making a career in the sports world. Being kind is good, but being a people pleaser won’t help your career. In some ways I’ve been taking her under my wing when I can, explaining the ins and outs to her, how to talk with the coaches and owners and not let them run all over her with their mansplaining and egos.
“Yeah, I’ll be right out,” I call back.
I decided to invite her to come with me. She’s a people person and she always invites me out with her friends, though I never go.
“Think they’ll have a coffee bar along with the alcohol bar?” I ask, swinging the door open to find her on the other side, bobby pin between her teeth as she places another one in her hair.
“Mmm, my guess is no, but we can grab one on the way out.”
Her fingers run along her slicked back hair that she has perfectly placed in a low ponytail, and I do a full scan of her outfit from head to toe. A pair of jeans and a white flowy tank top with a red lip. She’s a classic.
“Eh, it’s fine. We can get going, I don’t think it’s far.” I shrug as I walk by and give myself one last look in the mirror in the living room.
I can’t tell if this outfit is working for me, but after trying on three other things and finally being too tired to change again, I just left this one on. It’s a pair of light wash denim with a plain black cropped T-shirt and a pair of sneakers.
We both grab our bags, and I brush a dark wave of hair off my shoulder, tucking it behind my ear once, then twice, just before we head out.
Walking up to the Andersons, I’m quickly reminded that Ford is one of the highest paid tight ends in the league. Their home sits right on the water with what looks to be their own private beach access behind it. The large palm trees near the entrance make it feel like I’m about to walk into a tropical paradise.
Tapping lightly on the door, I can see Abby from beyond the glass, waving her hand at us.
“God, look how cute she is.” Alyssa giggles as Abby opens the door.
Abby’s smile is contagious as she greets us and welcomes us in. This foyer belongs in aBetter Homes and Gardensmagazine.The way she’s thought of the smallest details for the decor has me adding everything to a mental Pinterest board.
“I’m so glad you could make it, thank you for coming. Hi, I’m Abby,” she says, beaming at Alyssa. “Chase is on his way now with Ford so you’re just in time.”
Alyssa introduces herself, and Abby leads us to the living room where there are people scattered around the large space. Many seated on the couches, some on the barstools along the kitchen island that backs right into the living room. And beyond the living room, I can see out the sliding glass doors and into their backyard. And it sure is dreamy. With a small golfing green, a large pool with a slide, and a full sunbathing deck. Not to mention a killer view of the water.
I catch glimpses of a handful of Knights players as I make my way to the back of the crowd, following idly behind Alyssa. I knew her socialite ways would take over the moment she was in a crowd. Nate Campbell and Graham Turner both smile my way as I look around while walking in.
Other athletes are also in attendance too. A few baseball players from the Angels, some players from Tampa’s hockey team and even two actors are here. I’m not often starstruck, but I’m getting butterflies being in the same room as the guy who was a television heartthrob growing up. To my surprise—and relief—not a single basketball player is here.
I breathe a silent sigh of reassurance knowing I don’t have to pretend not to notice anyone from my ex-husband’s life.
My attention is still lingering on my teenage crush as I take one more step behind Alyssa, reimagining my bedroom growing up, knowing his poster wasdefinitelyon my wall. When I shift my focus, it lands on a pair of hazel eyes—a set of deep mossy forests that find me every single time we’re in the same room.
Liam doesn’t seem too interested in the birthday boy who just arrived, instead he grins at me with a cocky smirk, and Iwatch the word “surprise” leave his lips all too effortlessly. It’s a word meant for Ford, but it’s easy to see he’s saying it to me.
“Hey, Dem.” The greeting rolls off his lips as I get closer. He says my name like it’s his favorite word. “Can I get you a drink?” I don’t miss the gleam in his stare.
“I don’t?—”
“You don’t drink alcohol, I know.”
I feel the tension I was holding in my shoulders fall as I look at the sincere smile on his face. He’s charming.
“They have plenty of drinks other than alcohol,” he begins as if he’s the waiter listing off a beverage menu. “Want a tea? There’s lemonade too. Unless you want a virgin drink, the bartender will make anything.”
Cheers erupt around us as Ford makes his way through to say hi to everyone who came to the party, getting louder every time he sees someone that he “can’t believe is here.”
Liam leans his back against the counter and places the palms of his hands on the marble as he waits for me to answer him or to say anything at all really. He’s in a black T-shirt with dark jeans and black boots. His look is effortless and yet he still looks so good. So annoyingly—good.
He tilts his head with a stupid, cocky smirk as he raises his brow. Feels like he just caught me giving him a once over, although I wasnotchecking him out, if that’s what he’s grinning about. Merely becoming aware of my surroundings.
“I’m…thinking,” I nearly stutter, propping a hand on my hip.
