“I’m leaving for a four-day weekend. But if something happens, call me.” Her eyes sparkle and she says, “Theo booked a weekend in Seattle.”
My eyes widen. “Do you think…?”
Her face radiates and she nods. “He’s been all nervous and stuff. And if he doesn’t ask me, I will ask him. I want to call him my husband already.”
Placing the tablet on the shelf, I hug her. “I’m so happy for you.”
Those two belong together; I’m thrilled she’s starting this new chapter.
FIVE
LILLY
The weekend passesby in a blink of an eye. Without Kat around to help, I essentially live at LuKo Juice. I haven’t seen Ian for days due to our schedules. But finally it’s Sunday and I plop on the sofa, scrolling through the TV programs until I find the one I’m looking for. The Sharks are playing Sunday night football.
Seeing Ian on the field, I watch, ensnared. He looks in his element, dominating the field. His number is plastered on his back in a bold “1.” It fits him as he’s the best in the league.
He throws a long pass that sends the fans into a frenzy. My father pats him on the back as he drinks a bit of water. Even that move is sexy, his Adam’s apple rolling up and down in sheer carnality. And damn, the white and green uniform does nothing to conceal his fine physique.
Engrossed, I lose all track of time as I go through a roller-coaster of emotions, from bouncing up and down on the sofa, sweating and holding my breath whenever the other team breaks through their defense, but they don’t stand a chance.
The game ends with the Sharks winning, and the interviews roll in. Confidence oozes from Ian as he answers the questions and waves at some fans still calling out his name.
He’s all sweaty, looking exhausted. An idea pops into my head, and I go to the kitchen to prepare a drink, pouring it into a mini glass bottle. I leave the sealed bottle at his door with aCongratulationsnote.
In the morning, when I open the door, a huge smile parts my lips. On my doorstep, the glass container is clean, and next to it is a lily with a note: “Thank you.”
I pick it up, inhaling the flower’s sweet scent. Raw emotions tear at my heart, longing tugging on my strings in a soulful rhythm.
I place the glass in the cupboard and put the lily in a vase on the coffee table in the living room, central, just like my thoughts about him. I linger a moment longer until I realize I need to go to the shop.
The smile that has been stitched on my face throughout the drive wipes off when I arrive. There is an order mix-up, a juicer has broken down, and customers aren’t happy about the delay.
By the time the chaos is controlled, we’re behind schedule. And, of course, today is when I promised to deliver the samples to my father. No one else can deliver to his office, so I have to.
I place the box in my trunk and drive to the stadium. My chest heaves with my labored breathing.You won’t see him. It’s going to be fine. Stop being a chicken.Nothing works. I am one breath away from hyperventilating.
The security guard recognizes me and opens the gates, letting me pass.
I gather the box from my truck and enter the long corridor.
Along the walls, pictures of the players hang, honoring the best of the past to the present. Keeping my head down not to be recognized or even worse, come face to face with Ian, I reach my father’s office.
I knock with my elbow, and my father opens it, taking the box from my arms.
“Hi, Dad. Congrats on the win last night,” I say. Upon entering his office, my smile falters when I see Ian, Levi, and two other players inside.
“Thanks. Gentlemen, this is my daughter, Lilly. Lilly, meet Ian, Levi, Roman, and Banks.”
I blink, frozen in place, and nod a greeting at them.I don’t deserve this, Universe! Why?
Ian’s intense gaze bores into me, making breathing exceedingly difficult. He gulps as if he doesn’t want to accept that I am there.
My dad goes on praising my drinks, thrusting one into each of their hands.
I wish I could pay more attention to their reactions to the shots, but Ian keeps watching me, long after he downs his.
His eyes brew a storm, rattling my weak foundation. The accusation is clear, but there’s something more battling in his clouded gaze—a sinister undercurrent that has a shiver skittering down my back, instantly chilling me.
