“We’ll have to do it by phone. I won’t be there,” I replied, cutting into my filet mignon.
Ger frowned, his fork frozen above a mountain of vegetables. “Why not? Where are you going?”
“Back to Vermont. Val’s in-laws are visiting from Jamaica. We’re doing a house swap. He isn’t using his place in Wood Hollow, and I don’t need to be in LA. Win-win.”
He stared at me for a beat, slowly lowering his fork. “I don’t get it. I did some research and saw a few of the pics and videos on social media from last weekend, and uh…no offense, but Vermont looks boring as fuck.”
“It’s not boring at all. There’s a lot to do. The lake is beautiful, and it’s spring now, so you can take a boat out and probably jet ski…and stuff.”
A sly smile tilted a corner of his mouth. “And stuff. Got it. You met someone. I’m happy for you, man.”
“It’s…” I shook my head. “It’s not like that. It’s…”
Ger chuckled. “I hope it is. I hope it’s exactly like that. Things are turning around for you, Si. I like it.”
I nodded, tucking into my meal with a little less gusto than my agent. Honestly, I was wingin’ it like crazy. First of all, I’d wildly exaggerated the house swap with Val. The truth: I’d asked Val yesterday if he’d mind if I made Wood Hollow home base through July, and he’d immediately agreed…and countered with a request for his in-laws to use my house for a week so he wouldn’t have to get them a hotel…or worse, have them stay at their place.
It was a done deal yesterday, within hours of signing the contract with Boston. The crazy thing was that I hadn’t told Cooper. I figured I’d tell him in person tomorrow. I needed to see his face to be sure he was okay with it. He had a life that had nothing to do with me in Wood Hollow, and I wanted himto know I fully expected his kids to come first. I just…wanted whatever was left over.
And that had nothing to do with football or Alli or publicity of any kind. It was Cooper.
Only him.
But I didn’t want to make life unnecessarily complicated. So if Cooper voiced any hesitation, I’d go.
I wasn’t sure what to think of Ger’s assumption that I was seeing someone, though. He wasn’t wrong, but I hadn’t denied or confessed. I’d let it go…along with his unfinished coming-out warning. Maybe he was going to say vegan, and not bi or gay or…whatever, but it didn’t matter. I had no plans to come out.
I was perfectly happy in the closet.
See? Everything was fine.
The story broke the next morning. NFL veteran, Silas Anderson had officially opted out of retirement to sign a one-year multimillion-dollar contract with Boston.
There were thousands of photos of me wearing a brand-new ball cap, and a brief press conference in which I fielded softball questions like, “Are you excited to play for Boston?” or “What do you think the chances are that this team will make it to the Super Bowl?”
Answers: yes and good.
The tougher question was “Why’d you decide to keep playing?” with the implied “at your age.”
I said I loved the sport, thought I had another year in me, and I was grateful Boston felt the same.
A few more pics later, I bade Ger good-bye and got a ride to the airport. The drive from Burlington to Wood Hollow was thelongest leg of my journey. I texted Cooper from the car rental agency, hopped into my new rental—a black Jeep this time—and headed south.
The long ribbon of highway stretched on forever with zero traffic, not something you’d see late afternoon in the concrete jungles of Los Angeles. I followed the signs for the Four Forest exit, my pulse skittering with anticipation as the road narrowed and the trees soared like skyscrapers against the blue sky.
I passed Black Horse Inn on the outskirts of Elmwood, continued toward Lake Norman and took the steep incline leading to Wood Hollow, my heart ticking like a time bomb. I scanned the hollowed-out trees and the sweeping views of placid water with wonder, and I didn’t even mind the gigantic truck loaded with timber crawling at a snail’s pace two cars in front of me. I was just happy to be back.
Happy to be someplace that felt like…home.
Cooper wasn’t home yet, so I showered, unpacked, and was considering my dinner options when headlights flashed through the blinds.
I raked my fingers through my damp hair and made a beeline through the trees. His truck was in the driveway, the garage door was down, and the house was dark. I glanced up the pathway between our houses and smiled.
Twilight had set in, shrouding the night in pale shades of indigo, but I would have known him anywhere. Cooper paused, a bag of groceries in one hand, a bottle of wine in the other.
“I was going to surprise you,” he said. “I brought kabobs for the grill, candles, and wine. It’s beautiful out, and I thought we could have dinner on the deck and celebrate your?—”
I didn’t wait for the end of that sentence. I hooked my hand around his neck and sealed my mouth over his. It was mashed lips with a hum of desire, a trace of laughter, and more joy than I could contain. I released him, plucked the wine from his hand,and stared for a long moment…just drinking in Cooper’s every detail.
