“You two just seemed . . .” He pauses, weighing his words. “Forgive me for playing matchmaker, but you seemed like you liked each other.”
I swallow, saying nothing.
He shrugs and flubs his lips. “Guess I was wrong. And that’s completely fine. Part of me was hoping I was right, though.”
His words don’t compute. For a moment, I’m sure I’ve misheard him. He can’t have said what I think he said. “Excuse me?”
“Gotta say, Dani, you two seemed like a happy couple. Like there was something brewing. Personally, I was happy about the possibility because I like you, and, selfishly, I like the idea of this happy couple on the team.”
I tilt my head to the side, trying to make sense of what he’s saying. And to make sure he’s not suggesting some sort of publicity stunt. Carefully, keeping my tone neutral, I ask, “What do you mean, Stuart?”
“Just that . . . well, let me be blunt.” He clasps his hands together. “With all the shit some of the bad seeds put us through last year, this potential love affair was looking to be a bright spot—the quarterback playing Skee-Ball with kids, and then with the woman he likes at a charity function,” he says, leaning back in his chair and chuckling, like this is the most amusing thing ever. “While I’d never ask you to date him for the press or pretend to be in a relationship, I was, admittedly, hoping you actually were.”
My jaw drops. It falls to the floor with a loud clang. I pick it up, reattach it, and blink several times. “You were truly hoping we were dating?”
This is the last thing I expected. Even though I’d planned to have a heart-to-heart with him, I never thought he’d actively want us to be together. I merely hoped I could work something out. Some sort of proviso that made it acceptable to go out with him since I’m not Drew’s direct boss, or something. An under-the-radar-screen type of approval.
Until I thought I was busted.
But in a way, Stuart’s reaction makes perfect sense. The team’s image problems stemmed from guys doing drugs and fathering more babies than they could handle. From wrecking cars and trashing hotel rooms. Not from holding hands at the movies, or playing arcade games on the beach.
Stuart drums his fingers on my desk. “When it comes to off-the-field sports stories, there’s little the public loves more than when the quarterback wins the heart of a good girl. But I guess that isn’t happening,” he says, sighing heavily. He stands and turns to leave. “I’m sorry if I was pushy.”
And I snap out of my fog. “Wait.”
He turns, an expectant look in his eyes. Time for me to woman up. Time to do what I planned to do mere minutes ago when I was ready to march into his office. Speak the truth.
“You were right,” I say.
He cocks his head, waiting.
“About the vibe.”
He lifts his chin, a smile sneaking across his mouth. “I was?”
“Yes. I’ve tried to deny it because I thought it could hurt the team, but I’ve spent time with him at events, and have gotten to know him, and I do like him,” I say, owning my feelings, and leaving his off the table for the moment. As a lawyer by trade, I know how to present facts in order to protect others. My job right now is to take the risk for both of us, and I can handle putting my heart on the line.
Especially given Stuart’s answer.
His smile spreads cheek to cheek. “Drew does like you. That was patently obvious,” he says, and I beam. I can’t help it. I love that Stuart could tell Drew feels the same. “And he has excellent taste.”
“Thank you,” I say, then furrow my brow. “It’s really okay?”
He laughs. “Just don’t crash a car, snort a line, or get knocked up too soon. Otherwise, we’re all good. Oh, no sex tapes either.”
My face turns the color of a fire engine. “You can count on that.”
When Stuart leaves, I text Drew.
Dani: Sooooo . . . that idea you floated last night . . .
Drew: The one where you show up at my house naked? Say that comes true tonight, please.
Dani: Glad you’re still game for that.
Drew: Game for you is exactly what I am. But, by idea, did you mean the idea to play whack-a-mole again?
Dani: Yes, sort of. More like what it would take to play whack-a-mole with you.
Drew: I like where this is going. Especially because it sounds dirty. But also, sweet. Continue.
Dani: You said you wanted to make a go of it. That you thought Stuart was pleased. Turns out your instincts aren’t just good on the field.
Drew: I rock in general, don’t you know that? But . . . be a little more specific. He’s pleased about what? The cafeteria at the stadium? The newest press release he wrote? Or . . . ?
Dani: He gave me the thumbs-up to . . . well, to go out with you. I told him I kind of liked you.
Drew: Holy shit. You did that for us? You talked to Stuart?
I give him the quick version of how it all went down, then send one more text.
Dani: Please tell me you aren’t pissed.
Drew: I’m fucking ecstatic. You are one badass, ballsy babe, and I’m crazy for you. And what you did makes me even crazier for you.
Dani: Whew. I’ll take that brand of crazy.
Drew: You deserve about a dozen orgasms. Good thing is, I know just the man who can deliver them.
Dani: Make it a baker’s dozen please.
Drew: Consider it done.
Chapter Eleven
Dani
There is a dinner at a cafe by the ocean. There is a walk from the beach to my house. There are delicious conversations along the way.