His chest went tight at the memory.
“Are you okay?” she asked, her expression earnest.
They’d dated for the past two months while he was home in Denver, after his hamstring got pissy.
“Fine.” He nodded, clearing his throat. God, he’d missed her.
He’d stopped by Anna’s flower shop in Castle Rock to buy his mom a bouquet of roses, and he and Anna had clicked immediately.
Then he had ended up stopping by her shop to buy every person he knew flowers.
They’d dated.
Then he’d gotten canned.
Now everything’s gone to shit.
“You don’t look fine,” Anna said, giving him a solid once-over.
What wasn’t there to be fine about? Well…everything, really.
“Too many people?” she asked.
Shaking his head, he said, “You’re here and you’re speaking to me, so I’d say the rest of the people don’t matter. And since I’m here and you’re here, things are better than fine. Being next to you is so far beyond fine.”
Her expression softened at his words.
Drake preferred quiet, and Anna knew that. He liked throwing around a pigskin. She knew that, too. She also understood what most of the world didn’t—Drake could live without the thousands of fans. They didn’t drive his need for success.
Fame wasn’t important to him. It was a byproduct of doing what he loved that he tolerated instead of embraced.
The game, though, was everything. It had become who he was. Without it, who was he? He’d have to figure that out. And soon.Thatscared the shit out of him.
“You look beautiful.” He wanted to resist the urge to touch her hand.Reallytouch her hand because he missed her.
He couldn’t force himself to deny the urge. His fingertips touched Anna’s for a breath of a second, and in that moment, he didn’t feel so alone anymore.
“Mr. Valsh.” An older woman with a thick Russian accent approached him. “I am looking forvard to buying you later.”
Sorry. What?
The elderly woman took a martini from a waiter and sipped. She pulled a face that was clearly not impressed and spit the mixture back into the cup in a slow stream. Carefully, she set it back on the tray.
“There is no vodka in this.” She waved a hand over the cup.
“It’s eggnog, ma’am,” the waiter said, eyebrow raised.
“Exactly.” The woman scowled. “Be a good boy and get me a proper eggnog vith vodka, yes?”
“Um. Of course.” The waiter looked like she’d asked him to bring her a narcoleptic skunk, but he headed back toward the bar area to get vodka’d eggnog.
“Now, about the auction. I look forvard to purchasing you for my favorite granddaughter.” The woman sidled closer to him.
“No, Babushka.” Anna shook her head furiously. “You and yourmethodsare not needed here.”
“I am alvays needed.” Babushka linked her arm with Anna’s. Drake couldn’t be sure if it was because she needed Anna for support or because she didn’t want Anna to run. He had a hunch it was the latter.
“Drake, this is my babushka.” Anna made big eyes at him.
