Page 68 of Colliding with Ten

I knew Lennox was responsible for the offered funds. No company would offer this kind of money to someone unknown who had gone viral for two videos. AJ and Meadow were still looking at me.

Meadow sat next to me on the couch. “Was that a reporter asking about you and Lennox again?”

I shook my head. It took a while to find the words to tell him. AJ wasn’t happy about yet another thing I would have to explain to the team about Monroe and me. But he knew that turning down this opportunity would be crazy. The money could fund a good chunk of the rest of my schooling, an amount my father would be unwilling to spend since I wasn’t following his plan.

I weighed the cash against the potential for gossip or reputational harm and thought the deal made sense. I wasn’t breaking any rules by posing with Lennox. Players from rival teams did it for brands all the time. This was no different. And there was nothing going on between Lennox and me anyway.

So, a week later, once everything was arranged, I arrived at the hotel downtown. Unzipping my bag, I started unpacking, not thinking about seeing Lennox again.

Definitely not.

16

THE AUDIBLE

LENNOX

Ididn’t reach Manhattan until eleven. Team obligations kept me in California most of the day. I went from the facility to the airport and spent most of the flight reviewing film for our next game. The flight landed late and traffic to the city did the rest.

The hotel was a modern glass building in lower Manhattan, mostly empty at that hour. A staff member met me near the desk and handed me a key packet.

“Seventeenth floor,” she said. “Your luggage has already been taken up.”

“Thank you.”

“The production team left your call sheet in the room. Transportation departs at seven fifteen tomorrow morning.”

I nodded. “Got it.”

I crossed the lobby and stepped into an elevator alone. I was tired, but my mind was still racing, typical for midseason. There was always more film to watch, or something to review, which I planned to do tonight. This wasn’t a vacation. Ayla and I were here to work. The production coordinator listed her arrival time as late evening, so she was likely already tucked in.

By the time the elevator got to seventeen, I was thinking about sleep and nothing else. The floor had a carpeted hallway and framed black-and-white photographs of the city. I checked the number on the key packet and turned left.

At the end of the hall, a woman stepped out of another elevator, carrying a paper bag and her phone. Highlighted curls bounced around her shoulders as she walked towards me. Our eyes met, and my feet stuttered on the carpet. It was Ayla.

My heart slammed against my ribs. A strange lightness in my stomach left me unsteady. The exhaustion from the flight vanished, and all I saw was her. I hadn’t expected to see her tonight—tomorrow, maybe, when I was prepared for the photoshoot and would treat it like any other obligation. But I hadn’t been ready for the relief that flooded my chest when she appeared.

Since Denver, I’d buried myself in football and let distance turn her into a good memory. But now, it was like she stepped out of every good dream I’d ever had—breathtaking, effortlessly beautiful. She wasn’t dressed for cameras or trying to impress anyone, but seeing her again brought color back to a life I hadn’t realized was dull. Shay had told me to pay attention, and now I finally was.

Ayla stopped beneath the lights, her brows lifting in surprise, a smile spreading across her face.

“Lennox.”

“Callahan.”

I opened my arms, and she stepped into them without hesitation. She fit against me. I’d forgotten what she felt like. No. I’d tried to. She was warm against my chest, smaller than me but able to fill every empty place within me.

I drew in a breath. Her hair smelled like fresh citrus and flowers, layered with her own scent. Suddenly, I was back in Denver, her leg stretched across my lap, as we talked ourselves into the middle of the night. I held her tighter, not realizing until now how much I’d wanted this, how much I wanted her. Then I let her go.

She beamed at me. “You made it. What took you so long?”

“Team meetings. Then traffic.”

She glanced at the key packet in my hand. “What room are you?”

“1702.”

She quirked a brow, nodding towards the door that said 1704. “We’re right next to each other.”