“You’re…both of you?”
“Any objections?”
A million. I like to cheer people on from the sidelines, to write the stories other people lead, not show up with a pair of pro athletes and be the center of attention…but they’re not just athletes. They’re my big brothers. Who I normally wouldn’t want with me when I go surprise Noah, but it’s a fundraiser and Tanner would freak. But mostly…
“Nope. The people I care about should meet the people I care about,” I assure them.
“Give us fifteen minutes,” Dallas requests before going to his bedroom with Clay, because of course, Dallas has a suite.
* * *
I fix my hair while they get dressed and am debating if I should attempt more than mascara and lipstick, when there’s a knock on the door.
“I’m told you needed these?” A woman says when I open the door, handing me an envelope and a jersey.
“Thank you so much, you have no idea…I really appreciate it,” I tell her.
“Of course,” she assures me. “What’s the occasion?”
“A fundraiser at my school.”
“I thought Dallas only had one sister?” she asks, following me over to the mirror and taking different containers of makeup my mom gave me for Christmas to apply them to my face.
“Just me,” I agree, not sure why I’m letting her, but it’s not like she asked, and she seems like the kind of girl who gets things handled. “I’m Savannah,” I introduce myself.
“Beth,” she does as well. “Did he request a suit because he’s going with you?”
She sounds confused, and as much as I hate it, I smile. “Him and Clay,” I agree. “Does he tell everyone how pathetic I am?”
“I think he feels guilty more than anything. Asked if there was a way I could make his statement about you only come up when they search your name, not his, to not add extra attention to it. And I’m the team’s unofficial shrink. I’m a vault and not afraid to tell them when they need a professional. Which most of them do.”
Dallas walks out of his bedroom in a pair of boxers, then spots Beth and immediately shoves Clay back into the room before following him and slamming the door.
“Sorry ’bout that, he’s not usually rude.” I feel the need to apologize. “Or shy,” I add, because I’ve seen him prance around in less, with a bigger audience.
“I’m well aware,” she assures me. I can only imagine what it’s like, dealing with an entire NFL team. Like Ivy House on steroids.
“I made an appointment,” I admit, going back to our conversation. I haven’t told anyone else. “It felt silly, but?—”
“I think everyone can benefit from therapy. Even if you grew up with the perfect, most supportive family, there’s always something, and dealing with things is better than letting them fester.”
I let out a breath, relieved. I love my mom, but we aren’t the kind of people who ‘need therapy’. I was happy. My lack of confidence was confusing to her, but she tried to fix it with love, dresses, makeup, and telling me how perfect I am, which hasn’t been working.
“And there you go.” Beth puts the brushes down. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m so used to walking into rooms and taking charge, I didn’t even think to ask…”
“No, it’s perfect. Thank you.” I look like me, only prettier. The smoky eye is understated, but it makes my eyes pop.
“Let me know if you need anything else. And if you can document Dallas ballroom dancing, I’ll throw in a stadium visit.”
“He’s annoyingly good at it. You can’t even blackmail him with it.”
“So the cocky ego is his only flaw?”
“He’s also overbearingly protective. Unless you’re into that shit?”
She sighs. “I hope tonight’s everything you want it to be.”
Chapter Sixty-Nine
