My grandfather toasted my arrival and stated how thrilled the family was to have me in their midst. My father gave a short speech welcoming me, while my stepmother pursed her lips and scowled as if she’d eaten a particularly sour lemon.
Amy nudged me. “It’s your turn to speak.”
I stood abruptly and would have tipped over my chair had it not been for the quick actions of one of the servants. Regaining my tattered composure, I smiled at each person in the room and wished I’d been warned. I could’ve written a speech.
“I thank you all for welcoming me with open arms. Your Majesties and Your Highnesses have shown me nothing but kindness since my identity became known. I’m very happy to be here, and I’ll do my best to live up to the high standards set by the royal family. Thank you very much.”
I sat down quickly, and there was a smattering of polite applause.
Living in America was so much easier, and did I ever miss Gage with his irreverent, fun-loving ways. I didn’t think fun would be part of my vocabulary from here on out.
At midnight, I excused myself from the few guests still loitering about, including Richard the duke. I managed to evade him and slip up the stairs before he knew I was gone. Once in the relative safety of my humongous room, I put on my nightgown and crawled in bed. Wide awake and staring at the ceiling, I reached for my cell to text…
Gage.
I stopped myself. I could not contact him. It’d be leading him on, especially after he’d told me he loved me. I couldn’t mess with him like that.
Instead I called my mother and then Tiff, cheerfully telling them about my day and leaving out the not-so-good parts. When I disconnected my last call, the clock showed after one a.m. I sighed. Sadness gathered around an empty place in my heart. What if I’d made a big mistake? What if I’d walked away from the best thing that’d ever happened to me?
What if?
But what girl gave up the chance to be the princess of England, no matter the sacrifice?
~~Gage~~
I didn’t leave the house for the next few days and eventually had to admit to myself I was moping about Alisa. I’d been so sure she’d call, declaring she’d made a huge mistake and begging me to pick her up at the airport. She never did, and I never called her.
The announcement happened as planned on Monday afternoon, and I was all over the internet watching the entire thing and gobbling up pictures of Alisa as she stood beside her father, poised and looking every bit a princess. She didn’t display any outward signs of nervousness. In fact, her expression seemed to say, “I was born to do this, and I’ve finally come home.”
Unwilling to torture myself any longer, I closed my browser. She wasn’t coming back. She was in her element, getting uber-attention showered on her, wearing all the latest styles, and hanging with the it crowd. I’d never be able to offer her anything remotely resembling what she had right now.
I didn’t know what the future held for me in the next year or so, and Alisa could do so much better in Europe. I could never give her what she craved. The royal family could.
Christmas came and went, and I barely noticed. Easton and I spent Christmas day at Riley’s parents’ house and ate until I was near exploding.
I was doing the party-crashing gig several days a week, and I loved it. Where else could a social guy like me get paid decent money just being social? That job was the one bright spot on my bleak future.
The house I’d lived in was owned by Riley’s dad, who I called Uncle Coop, and he didn’t allow anyone to live there if they weren’t in school. Mason and I moved into a tiny apartment. He, too, was prepping for a shot at pro football. Mace had left school after fall quarter, but he’d had enough credits to graduate. We were two bachelors barely scraping by, crammed in a tiny apartment, and neither of us was dating. I knew why I wasn’t dating, but I wasn’t sure about Mason. If my roommate thought it was odd I couldn’t afford a better place to live, he didn’t say a thing about it. Mason was a jokester, who never let you see below the surface. All I knew was that he hadn’t dated since his high school sweetheart broke it off a year or so ago. I didn’t want to be that guy. I had to move on and get over Alisa. She’d been gone over a month and hadn’t bothered with one text message or DM via social media. Absolutely nothing.
The Steelheads lost a heartbreaker of a playoff game in the last two seconds and ended their season early. I tamped down my expectations, not knowing if I’d hear from Tanner and considering my options if I didn’t. All this waiting was making me crazy. I was a man of action, a guy who decided a direction and took off down that path, bullying my way to success. Not knowing and always waiting wasn’t in my nature.
I continued to work out and was in the best shape of my life.
Much to my absolute shock, I came home one stormy winter day to a very official-looking envelope from the NFL. I’d received an invitation to the scouting combine, where all the top college football players had a chance to showcase their talents in front of coaches and scouts from the pro teams. Those storm clouds in the sky didn’t dampen my good day.
Within a few hours, my cell rang, displaying an unknown number. I almost didn’t answer it, but call it a hunch, I tapped the answer button.
“Hello?” I said.
“Gage, it’s Tanner.”
When it rained, it poured. Holy shit on a turnip. Things were looking up.
“Hey, Tanner.” I adopted the best casual tone I could muster, as if I spoke to championship-caliber quarterbacks every day.
“I’ll text you an address. Meet me there at seven p.m.”
“Okay.” I wanted to shout with joy and dance around the room.
“Don’t be late.” Tanner ended the call abruptly. He wasn’t known for his idle chitchat.
“Who was that?” Mason asked as he shut the door behind him and shook his wet coat out on the dingy carpet. We were both slobs, so the apartment was in a perpetual state of disaster.
“Tanner Wolfe.”
“The Tanner Wolfe?”
“The one and only.” A broad grin spread across my face. My load had been lightened. Things were looking up. “And I got an invitation to the combine today.”
Mason’s face fell, and belatedly I realized there hadn’t been an envelope for him.
“I’m sure yours will come tomorrow.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure.” He waved me off before I could offer some worthless words of encouragement. “Later.” He strode right back out that door and drove off into the inky early evening.
I shook myself out of my momentary lapse. Mason could take care of himself. He was one of the premier D-1 running backs. He would get an invitation. I was sure of it. Right now, nothing was going to rain on my parade, not even pictures of Alisa on the arm of one royal socialite after another.
I drove to the address Tanner had given me, arriving a half hour early. It was a football stadium used by high schools in the area and completely deserted this time of year. I tried several of the gates, but they were locked. A light mist had replaced the rain, but a torrential downpour wouldn’t have ruined my mood.
Tanner catapulted into the parking lot and screeched to a halt inches in front of me. I didn’t flinch even though my life had passed before my eyes. Riley unfolded his tall body from the passenger side. And rubbed his temple. His face was pale in the blue light cast by the overhead lights. I didn’t know if he’d been scared shitless by Tanner’s driving or if his tan had faded in the gloom of a Seattle winter.
He shot me a look, and I read it loud and clear. He wasn’t a fan of Tanner’s driving.
Tanner ended the call he was on and popped out of the car like a jack-in-the-box. He grinned at both of us, showing glaringly white teeth set against a tanned face. He’d either spent some time in a tanning salon or headed for Hawaii as soon as his season ended.
He pulled a set of keys from his pocket and strode to the closest gate, opened it, and disappeared inside. Riley gave me the side-eye and followed the quarter
back. I hurried to catch up.
“All right, asshole. We’re going to run some basic plays until we have them perfect whether that takes all night or not. No dropped passes, and no bad passes. Got it?”
We both nodded, and thus the torture began. Tanner’s interpretation of perfect took perfect to an entirely new level. I’d asked for this, and I wanted it so badly I could taste it, smell it, and had every intention of wallowing in it.
I soaked up Tanner’s every word like a man living in Seattle all winter soaks up the first rays of spring sun. He pushed both of us to our limits and beyond, yet seemed to know when to back off before he broke us. By the time I staggered into my apartment three hours later, I collapsed on the couch and fell fast asleep, not waking until ten hours later.
Chapter 14—Drafted
~~Gage~~
Hello, insecurity, my old friend.
By the time the combine ended, I wasn’t sure if I’d made a good or bad impression. I’d talked to so many team reps and performed whatever pattern or task they requested a million times over. The work I’d done with Tanner had improved my accuracy and footwork. Now my future was out of my hands. I’d done the best I could do.
I couldn’t afford to fly to New York for the draft, so I waited at home. Mason, on the other hand, received his invite the day after mine and landed an agent. He flew first class to the draft. He was expected to go in the first or second round.
I was expected to go in the seventh if at all, but I’d take the seventh round. Riley, Tiff, and Easton kept me company through the next grueling day and a half. We cheered when Mace’s name was called early in the second round as a pick by the Seattle Steelheads. Mace was staying in town. I couldn’t be happier for him.
On the second day, the draft moved much faster with little of the hoopla of the first round. Tanner joined us halfway through the fifth round. He came bearing pizza and one of his signature shit-eating grins. He knew something none of us knew, and I dared to hope what it might be.
I was sick to my stomach but trying not to show it. When my phone buzzed toward the end of the seventh round, my heart slammed in my chest. I fumbled for the phone with a sweaty hand. This could be the call.
It wasn’t. In fact, it was better than that.
The text message read: Good luck. I’m pulling for you.
Alisa’s name showed at the top of the screen. For the first time in the past two days, I grinned. Riley stared at me expectantly. I shook my head, and he sighed.
“It’s Alisa.”
“Oh.” Riley exchanged a glance with Tiff but neither said anything.
Me: Thank you.
Before I was able to type a longer response, my phone rang. I stared at the caller ID in disbelief. This had to be a joke. I turned to Tanner, whose smug smile indicated he’d known all along, and the bastard had let me torture myself with worry.
“Well, fuckhead, answer it.” Tanner pointed a finger at the phone and smirked.
With a shaking hand, I brought the phone up to my ear. “Hello.” Fuck, but I sounded like a sniveling wuss.
“Gage? This is Brandon Miller, coach for the Seattle Steelheads. How do you feel about staying in Seattle, playing some football, and backing up Tanner for us?”
How did I feel? Fuck. How did I feel? Was he fucking kidding me?
By now Riley and Tiff had caught on. Even Easton, who wasn’t up on football draft procedures, watched me expectantly. Tanner continued to preen like the proud papa whose son had finally fulfilled his potential.
“Gage, are you there?”
I stared at the TV screen. I could see on the banner at the bottom the announcement that the Steelheads’ pick was in. I’d never in my wildest dreams imagined I’d be playing for Seattle and backing up one of the masters of the game. To make things even more incredible, the offensive coordinator was Tyler Harris, a former Steelhead quarterback, a superstar in his own right, and a brilliant football mind. I might not get much playing time, but I’d be given the time to learn and grow. Down the road, I could make a shot at being a starter somewhere.
“Gage!” The coach’s loud roar snapped me back to reality. Tanner snickered.
“I’m here, Coach. I’m sorry. I was speechless for a few there. I would love to play for the Steelheads. It’s a dream come true.” My small group of friends hooted and hollered, and I couldn’t stop grinning.
Life was good. Even better, I’d heard from Alisa.
She didn’t respond after I thanked her, and I tried not to read too much into her seemingly innocent text. She didn’t text again and congratulate me. Regardless, not much could rain on my parade today.
Now tomorrow might be a different story.
~~Alisa~~
Royal life was everything I expected it to be and nothing like I expected it to be.
The first month was such a whirlwind of obligations and studying all things princess, from manners to my lineage to expectations to British history. I didn’t have time to think beyond getting through the day without screwing up or committing some social faux pas.
I was followed everywhere, hounded day and night by media, and put on a tight leash. I hardly did anything without the permission of someone higher up the food chain than I or an official representative of that food chain.
My stepmother glared at me with distaste every time she saw me, and my father was oblivious to her machinations to make me look bad and herself look better. My father applauded her efforts to turn my sow’s ear into a silk purse.
There were endless balls and engagements and public appearances. I’d had my feet stomped on by many a tottering member of British gentry. My hand had pumped countless sweaty palms. And I’d suppressed multiple yawns listening to speakers drone on about subjects I cared nothing about.
Yet there were many things I loved, such as the ability to affect change because of the power my position wielded. I embraced multiple crusades, as my father called them, ranging from animal welfare to the plight of the unfortunate and disabled. My father approved of my charity work and rewarded me with a proud smile and a word of praise here and there. I’d even caught him bragging to some of his cronies about my dedication. My causes were what drove me to be the best princess I could be.
It didn’t hurt that I had all the latest designer clothes and attended endless parties. On the surface, I enjoyed the dancing and even the flirting, but when I was alone in my room, the hollowness in my chest overwhelmed me. If only Gage were here. I missed him terribly. Tiff filled me in occasionally on him, but I hadn’t made contact with him since the draft. I didn’t dare. Besides, nothing was keeping him from contacting me, but he didn’t. He probably hadn’t really loved me, just the sex, and I needed to get over him and move on. I was working on it.
I was often thrown together with the young son of a duke. Ted was a viscount and a very nice man. We become fast friends. We’d often sit in a corner of the room, heads together, and commiserate with each other at these events, Ted had a quick wit and was thoroughly entertaining when he was out from under his father’s iron rule. He became my bestie in my new life, and I don’t know how I’d have made it through those first weeks without him.
When the royal family took a late winter break at Crossley Manor, I looked forward to riding horses and getting away from all the scrutiny and critical eyes watching my every move. I gladly rode in the local hunt, relieved it was a drag hunt and they didn’t hunt a real fox.
Riding horses was the one and only place where I excelled and didn’t fall short of my new family’s expectations. Even my stepmother grudgingly admitted I rode as if I were born on a horse. In a way, I had been born on a horse, since I’d been riding before I could walk.
Ted and his family joined us for a weekend, but Ted was afraid of horses, so we mostly hung out in the game room and played cards or dominoes. I hated to see him go, as he was my only true friend in England. He was the brother I never had, and I thought of him as such. He’d never be a Gage, but he was loyal and kind.
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One particularly brisk, clear day, I was on a hack, the British term for a trail ride, with my father. We cantered across the hills and through the valleys. My mount was a difficult, high-strung mare who rode like a dream but had to be handled carefully or she’d have a temper tantrum. Annabelle and I got along fabulously, earning me major points with my father, who was a seasoned horseman. We had our love of horses in common, and I used our common ground in an attempt to gain some closeness to him, but he wasn’t a man to display emotions or be close to anyone, even his wife, and she returned the favor.
“How are you feeling about your new role?” he asked me as we slowed our horses to a sedate walk through the woods. We rode side by side on the wide country lane.
“I’m doing my best.”
“That’s all I ask. You’re settling in quite nicely. The king and queen are pleased.” His voice softened, and he smiled a very rare smile. I almost thought I saw pride in his eyes, which made all the strife I’d been through worth it.
“I am humbled.” What else could I say?
“There is a small private matter I’ve been meaning to discuss with you.”
I stiffened to the point where the sensitive Annabelle began to prance in protest. Releasing a deep breath, I willed my body to relax, despite the ominous tone of my father’s statement.
“You’ve met the duke of Lonscape.”
“Yes, Father.” My skin crawled at the mention of the foul man who happened to be Ted’s father. He had a nasty habit of stalking me. When he was in the palace, I kept my suite door locked. Even so, everywhere I went, I found him staring at me.
“The duke and I have been discussing you. We believe you and his son, Theodore, would make a good match. The king and queen agree. A union of our two families would bring together the two largest fortunes in the kingdom...”
He talked on and on, but I heard nothing else, other than he wanted me to marry Ted. Surely, Britain didn’t still do arranged marriages? Yet why was I surprised? Ted and I spent a lot of time together. Perhaps we appeared to be interested in each other as more than friends, and the families were merely helping us along. I’d have to set my father straight on this subject if I dared.
Tackled in Seattle Page 10
