“Aaron, yes. You know I don’t sleep around, good God.” I break out of my sister’s hold and move around my desk, where I have a full Google search of Liam Pitz pulled up, take a seat, and I quickly close out of that tab before my sister can say anything else in front of Aaron.
“Right, sorry. That’s not what I meant. But you’re sure it’s his and not Derek’s?”
Derek was the guy I dated in the fall, but we ended things weeks before I met Liam.
“I’m one hundred percent sure.” I lean back in my chair, holding onto the armrests.
“So, give his number to Alie,” my sister suggests.
“Right, yeah.” Aaron takes his phone from his pocket and taps a few times. “Okay, done.” He looks up at me, then looks back at his phone again.
I look at my cell and wait for the shared contact. It doesn’t come through. “I didn’t get it.”
Aaron shrugs. “I texted him. Trust me when I say that guy is a world-class player. Before I let you talk to him in your … condition … I’m going to feel him out first.”
Presley straightens up. “Aaron, you don’t have to?—”
“I got this.” His tone is direct, but his attention is on his phone, like he’s reading a text.
“Did he answer already?” I ask, sitting up straight.
“Uh, no. It came back, sayingfailed to send.”
“Surely, you can find out if he’s gotten a new number.” Presley looks exasperated. “Or we can just call the team and get it. Who’s his agent?”
“No.” His voice is calm. Too calm. “I’ll take care of it. There’s no need to get his team involved and definitely not his agent in a personal matter right now.”
He straightens, pacing once behind my desk, like he’s thinking three moves ahead—always three moves ahead.
“You’re not just some girl who had a wild night,” he continues gently. “You’re the legacy of an entire franchise. A billion-dollar brand built on discipline and image.” He exhales like this is a burden he’s willing to carry for me. “If this leaks before we control the narrative? It won’t be a sweet human-interest story. It’ll be headlines. ‘Empire Princess Pregnant After One-Night Stand.’ They’ll reduce you to a punch line.”
He rounds the desk and lowers himself in front of me, squatting so we’re eye level. Intimate. Grounded.
His hands close over mine.
“You and I both know how these teams operate,” he says softly. “If you call him, it doesn’t stay between you two. It goes to his agent. His PR people. Their lawyers. Suddenly, it’s out of your hands.” His thumb brushes over my knuckles in reassurance. “Let me handle it quietly. Directly. I can protect you from the circus.”
His eyes hold mine—steady, unwavering.
“I’ll be here with you through this, okay? Anything you need, just say the word, and I’m here.”
I know he’s trying to comfort me, but everything just feels wrong. I need a minute to come to terms with all this. I feel overwhelmed, and a whole lot freaked out.
A baby wasn’t part of my plan right now. And definitely not with my holiday fling.
PART TWO
CHAPTER
TWELVE
PRESENT
Liam
When my agent called me with the news that New York offered me a contract for three years, forty million guaranteed, I couldn’t get on the plane fast enough. As much as I appreciate the fans in New Orleans and the organization, I just never felt like the city was the best fit for me. So, when they fired the offensive coordinator (OC) after we lost in the playoffs, I took my out. Thank God my agent had added that little caveat to my contract.
In New York, I know I can be an asset to this team. They’ve had a losing record for the past two years, and they’re equally hungry for a change in leadership on the field. And I’m the perfect guy to fill the role.
