I’m grateful we’re in the team section because it’s easier to get out.The garage is full of honking people wishing one another well.
Mari cuts me a look as she waits for the gate to rise so we can turn onto the street.“Thank you for being so excited about the team.I get that sports aren’t your thing.”
“It’s the family business now,” I counter.
“Well, I’m proud of you for doing the art.Harlan said it’s going to be incredible.”
The drive is easy, tiny flecks of snow making it feel extra festive.
My mural is growing and evolving every day.
So are things between me and Clay.
When he’s in Denver, he’s attentive, but the sport is grueling for the players.I have new appreciation as I see it up close.All the ice baths and massages and physio in the world can’t fix the toll it takes on the human body.
He’s opening up more to me.He lives in his head, but I feel as if I have a pass to peek inside.
Maybe not an all-access pass, but I don’t think he’s ever given one.
And as for the secrecy, I honestly like that we’re privately an item.
He’s a magnet for attention, good and bad.Being with him means getting swept into the same storm.
I’m still figuring out how to navigate my own life, not to mention his.
The winning streak for the team is a plus.But every time I check the standings, I’m reminded LA is even higher.
Clay’s dream.
His destination.
His legacy.
He watches every one of their games, studying the players and the schemes.
I don’t know what that means for him or for us, but I try to enjoy what we have and not think too hard about it.
When we arrive at Harlan’s house, a huge catering truck is out front.
“You weren’t going to cook for thirty?”I tease.
“Do you remember when we tried to cook for ten at the trailer?We nearly burned it down.”
I help her carry the presents inside, laughing the entire time.
An hour later, Mari and I have changed outfits.She’s wearing a cozy white cashmere sweater, and I’m in a black dress and tights.We’ve fluffed the place and put all the gifts under the huge tree.
“We’re heeeere!”Chloe is the first to arrive, bursting in the door with Jay and Brooke in tow.
I’m stunned to see the elegant head of PR wearing dangly red bulb earrings plus an antler headband and a sweater with a Kodiaks bear twisted up in a strand of lights.
Mari stares too.“Who are you, and what have you done with Chloe?”
“Let me be the first to tell you,” Jay says solemnly, “this woman is a Christmas fiend.Every year she’s body-snatched by a giant elf and doesn’t return until New Year's.”
Coming in the door after are Rookie and Miles with Waffles in his arms.When he sets the Frenchie down, I get a good look at his knitted black and gold sweater with H’s emblazoned on every inch.
Chloe slaps two bottles of red wine against Jay’s chest.“Kitchen.Holiday sangria.Now.”
