Once everyone is settled and the pizza mishap has been taken care of, we start eating, and I realize quickly, I’m watching a relationship develop between the woman I like and my children. Seeing this unfold in front of my eyes is heartwarming.
“You eat your pizza like you’ve been to New York City,” she says to Reggie.
“I went a couple of times with my Dad, but I don’t remember if I had pizza there. Have you had pizza there?”
Autumn nods. “But I like thick pizza like this.” She holds hers up. “And New York has thin pizza.”
Roxy chimes in with, “That’s funny.”
“Where did you live before you came here?” Reggie asks Autumn.
“Well, I was born in Texas, went to college in Chicago, and then I lived in North Dakota for a little bit until I moved here.”
“Do you like being on TV?” he asks.
“Miss Au-um is boofiful on TV,” Roxy says. Autumn gives Roxy a happy squeeze, and then Roxy does the unthinkable. She places both her greasy hands onto Autumn’s face and brushes her nose back and forth over Autumn’s. If Autumn cares, she doesn’t show it and doesn’t make a big deal about having greasy toddler hand residue on her cheeks. When Roxy pulls away from Autumn, they stare at each other, making me wonder what they’re both thinking and making me wish I was on that side of the table too.
“I do like it. It’s fun. And I love the weather.”
“It’s a bit ironic that you do the weather, and your name is Autumn,” I blurt out, only to realize my statement is very random.
The three of them laugh.
Great, they’re already teaming up against me.
“Complete happenstance,” Autumn says. “My father wanted me to be a lawyer, and my mom wanted me to go to art school. I didn’t decide I wanted to do the weather until after I got to college.
“Daddy, it be funny if yous name is football.” Roxy giggles.
I reach across the table to tickle her. My hand brushes against Autumn and is instantly ablaze with heat and electricity. Our eyes meet, and I can only hope she’s thinking the same thing I am. We need some alone time to explore what is building between us.
Twenty-One
Autumn
As soon as I get back to my apartment, I go right to the bathroom and start filling my tub. I need a bath—a nice long soak to ease my muscles. I never knew holding a toddler on my lap for a couple of hours would put so much strain on my back. I didn’t mind holding Roxy though, or sitting next to Reggie. This afternoon had to be one of my best afternoons in a while. Julius’s children are a delight, and I’ve grown especially fond of Roxy.
As soon as there’s enough water, I strip out of my clothes and climb in—feet only. The water is hot, and I need time to adjust. I move the faucet dial a bit to bring in some cold, swishing it around with my foot until the temperature is tolerable. I finally sit down and sigh. I wish I could stretch out, but my tub is a standard size, and my legs are a little too long to really allow for any comfort. After I pull my knees up a smidge, I’m able to relax more. Water sloshes at the nape of my neck. If I’m not careful, I’ll spill over the edge. With my foot, I push the dial into the off position and then close my eyes.
Today replays in my mind. Images of Roxy and Reggie laughing and having a good time brings a smile to my face. And then there’s their dad—Julius. I’m smitten, and I like him, but I feel like he’s holding back. I knew he was on the phone with his ex because Reggie told me that Roxy called me dad’s girlfriend to his mom, and she sounded mad. I get it to an extent, but if I’m not mistaken, she cheated on Julius. He’s the one who’s entitled to be mad. When he came into the restaurant, I wanted to ask him if everything was okay. There wasn’t any time. The kids never left our sides, and when they did, we followed them everywhere. Even when Julius and I had a rematch at air hockey, the kids were right next to the table.
The alarm on my phone goes off, and I groan. Mostly because my phone is on the other side of the bathroom, and I have to get out regardless. Plus, I don’t remember setting my alarm to remind me I have something planned for later. My body is stiff and only slightly relaxed. I need to book a massage and maybe start using the hot tub we have in the building. I have yet to venture to the gym here, opting to run outside while the weather is still somewhat decent. With my towel wrapped around me, I make my way to the phone and silence it before going back to the tub to pull the plug. While the water drains, I check my calendar—dinner with Peyton.
“Huh, I can’t believe I forgot.” When Peyton invited me to dinner a few nights ago, I couldn’t say yes fast enough, and yet, it somehow slipped my mind. I glance at myself in the mirror and lean forward to get a better look. I tug at the skin under my eyes and wonder if the night cream I use is doing its job in preventing wrinkles. “I need to book a facial,” I mutter to my reflection. “And a haircut.”
Standing there and staring at myself isn’t doing anything for my self-confidence. Work keeps me busy, and the free time I’ve had recently I’ve spent with Julius. Today would’ve been a perfect time to go to the spa and eliminate some of the stress I’m feeling but spending time with him and his children is important. Finding a healthy balance is a must.
In my room, I slip into a pair of sweatpants and an oversized sweatshirt. I have a couple of hours before my dinner date with Peyton and the book I started many moons ago sits on my nightstand, mocking me. I pick it up and head into the living room, stopping to pull a throw blanket out of the basket I use to store them in. Curling up on the sofa, I open the book to the last page I’d marked and start reading. None of this makes sense. I’m in the middle of the chapter, reading about two characters that I don’t remember. Determined to keep going, I flip back to the front and start over. I’ve read half of the book, so I must’ve found it interesting and figure I can skim if I begin to remember the content.
Halfway through my reread, there’s a knock at my door. Ignoring the knock seems like the best thing for me to do since it’s likely someone from my floor selling their steak knives or boxes of popcorn. This is a drawback to living in such a large building—everyone is a door-to-door salesperson. It’s the little kids that I can’t say no to though, and they know it.
The knock sounds again. I set my book down, get up and tiptoe to my door to look through the peephole. It’s Julius, standing there with his hand on the wall and looking down at the floor.
“What is he doing here?” I whisper, thinking I might answer myself.
“Autumn,” he says as if he can sense I’m standing on the other side of the door. “It’s me. Are you home?”
“Shit.” I step back and straighten out my ratty clothes and smooth my hair back. I really need to put a mirror up by my door for occasions like this. The man I’m wholly interested in is about to see me in my most relaxed state. I’m not sure how I feel about this. With a twist of the door handle, I open the door to face Julius.
His head rises slowly, and a smile spreads across his face at a gradual pace. My knees go weak, forcing me to use the door to keep upright. How can a smile cause such a reaction?
“Hey,” he says as I sag into the door for more stability. I thought I was smitten, but I’m not. I’m falling for him, and I’m not sure I can find a way to stop.
“Hey.”
“I wanted to stop by and give you this.”
Before I can ask what “this” is, he steps forward, cups my cheeks between his large hands, and presses his lips to mine. My mouth opens for him, beckoning him deeper. For some reason, my hand can’t let go of the door, but my other one bunches his shirt into my fist, and I tug, wanting him to come in so I can close the door.
Julius pulls away, but only for a second before his lips are on mine again. I moan, needing more. He grins against my lips and chuckles. “I can’t stay, but believe me, I want to.”
“What? Why?” I sound desperate, and maybe I am. From the second I laid eyes on Julius, I’ve been attracted to him, even when he was a colossal jerk.
The allure has only grown stronger the more time we spend together, and when he kisses me, I lose what’s left of my self-resolve.
“I have a game tomorrow.”
“And that means, what?”
He laughs again. “We have rules. They’re odd but have to be followed nonetheless.”
“Well, I, for one, am not following anything you’re saying.”
Julius looks confused. I’m not sure why since I’m not the one speaking in circles. “I guess I assumed Peyton had told you that the NFL requires us to stay in a hotel the night before a home game.”
What on earth? “Why?”
“It’s all part of our player agreement. We have funky rules. I don’t make them, but I abide by them.”
“Huh,” is all I can manage to say. “So, you came over here to kiss me like that and leave?”
He looks at me oddly and scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess so. Want me to do it again?” Julius leans toward me. I put my hand on his chest to stop him. He smirks and pushes a bit but finally gives up.
“You’re mean,” I tell him.
“I’m sorry. Can I make it up to you?”
“How?”
He shrugs. “Come to the game tomorrow?”
“How is me coming to your game making it up?”
Julius shrugs again and decides that batting his eyelashes might get him his desired answer. He’s right, it probably will, but I need to find the strength to ignore his wily ways.
“It’s not. It’s a way for me to see you again tomorrow. I’m going to be honest here. I’d like to see you at my game. I can leave a ticket for you at will call.”
“I have to work tomorrow, but I’ll keep it in mind.”
“Okay,” he says as he places his hand on my waist. He pulls me in for a kiss. It’s short but full of intent. There’s no question in my mind about how we feel toward one another. “If I don’t see you tomorrow, I’ll call you when I get home.”
“Good luck.”
“Thanks.” Julius kisses me again and then rushes down the hall. I stand in the doorway, watching him. When he gets to the elevator, he yells, “Get back inside before I come back there.”
I shake my head and close the door. I stay here, leaning against it with my fingers touching my lips. Julius’s scruff has left a little bit of razor burn, and I like it probably more than I should.
Now that I’m up and thinking about Julius, I’m too wired to sit back and down to read. I start to get ready for dinner by doing my make-up and hair, all while creating a list in my mind of things I want to ask Peyton about the team. I’m curious now since Julius mentioned the rules. I hadn’t ever thought about them before.
Peyton and I are meeting halfway between our places. It’s a three-block walk, but the evening air is chilly, and I hate that it’s dark out, but am very thankful for the streetlights and the open businesses. I’m still a bit wary of my surroundings, and Aiden’s words still replay in my mind when I’m out at night.
When I reach the restaurant, Peyton is sitting on the bench in the vestibule. Along with her brother and Noah’s dad.
Cue massive freak out.
“Hey,” she says as she stands. “You remember my brother, Quinn, and my father-in-law, Liam?”
“How could I forget?” Literally, there is no forgetting that my one friend here is music royalty. I extend my hand, and we all shake. “It’s nice to see you again. In town for the game?”
“Yes, it’s not often that we miss them,” Liam says.
“Noah must love having you there.”
“He does,” Peyton says.
Her brother excuses himself and goes to the podium to let the restaurant know we’re here for our reservation. Peyton chose an American bar and grill type place for us to have dinner. The eatery looks packed, and it’s loud. A million things run through my mind right now, mostly will we have an enjoyable conversation, or will the noise level make us yell?
Quinn motions for us to follow him and the hostess. Instantly, I notice how he walks—with his head down. I turn and look over my shoulder and find Liam doing the same. I also see they’re both wearing ball caps to try and hide their identity. I wonder if I would’ve recognized them if they hadn’t been sitting with Peyton? I’m not sure I would have. But I’m also not looking for celebrities.
As we walk to the table, I hear my name. There is some finger-pointing, but I ignore it. When a little boy waves at me, I wave back. I had some of this in North Dakota, but not to this extent. Leon Woolworth has gone above and beyond to introduce me to the Rose City, and people have taken notice.
After we sit and the host has left the table, Liam starts laughing. I look at him quickly and then to Peyton, wondering what inside joke I’ve missed. “I must’ve missed something.”
“Not at all,” Liam says. “It’s nice not being the one cat-called and pointed at for once.”
“Oh.” I look around the table, only to see everyone staring at me. “The ratings say I’m popular.”
“She’s fabulous,” Peyton adds. “Noah says the guys talk about the weather all the time now. She’s giving men a reason to pay attention.”
“You’re making me sound like some sort of sex symbol.”
Everyone laughs. “It’s a hard life, but someone has to do it,” Quinn says as Peyton elbows him.
“Not what I mean at all. I’m just saying that people are taking notice of the changes Leon has made. When anchors are retiring, he’s bringing in fresh, young faces. He’s trying to revitalize the news, and he’s doing it in ways that are making people take notice.”
“Believe me,” Liam interjects. “It’s a good thing.”
“Unless you want to have a drink,” Quinn adds. “Inevitably, someone will have their cell phone out, taking pictures and video because it’s important to them. It’s something you learn to live with.”
“Well, I’m going to have wine with dinner. I walked, and I’m not working tonight. If someone wants to post a picture of me being an adult, so be it. I swear people have too much time on their hands lately,” I say.
“I’ll order the bottle.” Liam flags down our server and orders not only a very expensive bottle of wine but five different appetizers.
“Are you going to eat all of the food you just ordered?” Peyton asks.
Liam shrugs. “I couldn’t decide what I wanted to try.”
He couldn’t decide. I’ve barely looked at the menu, and he’s already found five things he wanted to try. The menu is small. American fare with flare is what I’d call it. I finally come across something that sounds enticing—a barbeque brisket and cheddar sandwich. I haven’t had a good brisket in a long time and find that I’m craving it a bit. When the server returns with our wine, Liam is the focal point of the taste test. I watch with rapt attention as he swirls, sniffs, and finally sips the wine. He nods, and the waiter pours the wine into our glasses. The temptation to ask how come the rest of us haven’t sampled is there, but I know it’s not proper. Liam is paying. He’s the decision-maker. Besides, I don’t care that much about wine, and I’m not confident I could tell what is considered a good red or not.
By the time the server finishes with the wine pouring, the food runner sets down a tray filled with the appetizers—my mouth waters. I’m hungry but torn. I could eat a few of the items ordered, or I could wait for my dinner—such a dilemma. Before I can even decide, Liam sets a plate in front of me, with one of everything on it, and tells me to eat up. Liam tells our server that we’ll be ready to order dinner in a bit. It’s then that I realize this isn’t just a dinner. It’s an event for the four of us. Liam is in no hurry to go anywhere. He wants us to enjoy our time. I finally relax, take a sip of the wine, and dig in.
The conversation never stalls. Quinn and Liam ask questions about my work, and while I’m curious about theirs, they don’t allow me to ask. They’re forthcoming with information and liken their rockstar lives to mine. In my world, the two don’t even come close to correlating.<
br />
“Did you always want to be in music?” I ask Quinn.
“I don’t know,” he says. “I’ve only known music, and playing comes naturally to me, as does songwriting. Unlike my Uncle Liam, I didn’t dream of being anything else. I also didn’t dream of being in a band or living on the road. It’s weird. It’s a thing I do, and while I love it, if someone told me I had to walk away tomorrow, I’d be okay with that too.”
“With me,” Liam adds. “My father told me what I was going to do, where I was going to go to college. I wanted none of that. I wanted to be able to make my own decisions and definitely make my own mistakes. I chose a college I didn’t want to be at, hated everything about school, and pretty much started resenting everyone in my life.”
“My dad wanted me to be a lawyer, follow in his footsteps and all that. He was sad when I decided on Northwestern over Northeastern.”
“I think my parents thought I was going to go into coaching,” Peyton adds.
“Didn’t you, though?” Quinn asks.
Peyton shrugs. “Sometimes, I miss talking about the game to other people. It’s why I fill in for Aiden when he’s out because being in front of the camera feels good. It’s comfortable.”
“Leon speaks very highly of you.”
“As he does you,” she says. Her words bring a smile to my face, and honestly, the compliment warms me. I want to succeed at my job and someday be like Camden—on national television, where I’m a household name.
We’re on our second bottle of wine when we finally order dinner. Usually, I’m in a rush. Sit down, order, eat and get the hell out of places, but tonight is different. It’s casual, no fuss, no muss. I’m relaxed, and when I should be freaking the hell out because Liam Page is sitting next to me—close enough to touch and smell—and Quinn James is across from me—for most women, this is paradise. It’s odd because while they’re celebrities and everything about this situation tells me I should be anxious, I’m not.
“Peyton, I have a question for you. Earlier, I was with Julius, and he told me he had to sleep in a hotel the night before a game. I’m confused because they’re home tomorrow.”
Fourth Down: A Beaumont Series Next Generation Spin-off Page 15
