“I want to be there too, but I think we should try things like this for a while. Can we do that? Plan weekends? I’ll come see you next time. Or we can meet in the middle?”
“The middle? There’s nothing in the middle.” I was pissed, and my voice was getting louder.
“Okay, as soon as you left I started looking up some places and I found these cute cottages on Canyon Lake. We could rent one and no one would see us and we could spend time together.”
I huffed. “This is a fucking first.”
“Excuse me?”
“Most women want to be photographed and seen with me and you’re the exact opposite.”
“Sam, I tried to explain to you how important it is that I do this on my own. I don’t want a handout. If you can’t respect that I don’t want your money, then maybe this isn’t even worth trying.”
I closed my eyes. I didn’t want to fight with her. I didn’t want to push her away.
“I’m sorry, Natalia. I’m tired and it was a long meeting. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry.”
There was silence on the other end.
“Natalia?”
“Yeah. I was thinking.” Her voice was soft. “I’ll let you go and we can talk after our games tomorrow. Just think about it, Sam. I want to see you again, but if you can’t handle me staying on the dance team, then you need to let me know. I made a commitment to the Goddesses and I’m going to keep it.”
I saw Wes walking toward me. This was the last thing I wanted him to hear.
“Right. Right. Yeah, let’s talk tomorrow.” I hung up to face the quarterback.
“You ran out of there like your ass was on fire.” He eyed me.
“Something back home,” I lied. “What’s up?”
“I wanted to talk to you about a couple of the plays we have lined up for tomorrow. Howell, as usual, is a dumbass.”
I scratched the back of my head. I wasn’t going to get in the middle of Coach and Wes’s on-going argument about who should decide the game plays. Some teams were dependent on the quarterback and some relied on a team of coordinators to decide. Coach Howell liked to be the one in charge and so did Wes.
“What are you thinking?” I asked.
“What I think is, we use the same shit we did against the Warriors. Start off with an even rotation and then I go to you straight every time.”
My face lit up. “I like how you think.” There was nothing Coach could do if I ran the route that was called to me on the field. At that point I was only doing my job.
“Good. Then expect to make a lot of catches and let’s run that score up.”
I laughed. “Fuck, yeah. Let’s do it all afternoon.”
My argument with Natalia didn’t seem as important. I remembered I was here to win football games and collect a two-million dollar bonus in a few months.
I walked down the hall for the elevator when I heard Cavan calling my name.
“Hey, you didn’t call me about the playbook.” He stopped me at the elevator.
“Right. It’s in my car if you want it.”
“I checked around and no one else has one. I’ll take yours if you’re sure.”
“Yeah. It’s yours. Come on.”
We rode the elevator to the garage level. Cavan followed behind me. He was having a pretty good season. I was impressed another rookie could join the team and do what he had with the pressure weighing down on us to repeat our championship victory.
I pulled the binder out of the trunk and handed it to him.
“Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”
“No problem.”
I knew how he felt. I remembered what it was like when everyone around you had the plays memorized and you were still trying to get to know the names of a hundred different guys and staff members. He was in a new city with a new job. There were a lot of adjustments to make. But he seemed to be the kind of guy who was handling it in stride. Maybe better than I had.
I needed to get home, shower, and study the game notes for tomorrow. I hopped behind the wheel and steered toward my apartment.
* * *
I turned the shower off and grabbed the towel on the closest rack, wrapping it around my waist. I heard my phone buzz.
Holy fuck.
It was a picture of Natalia. She was standing on one toe, pulling her leg behind her so it was almost touching her head. She made a perfect circle using her leg and her back. I knew she was flexible, but this was fucking insane.
I texted her back.
I thought you said there were no cameras in there.
I waited for her response.
I set the timer just for you.
I laughed out loud. I adjusted the towel so it rested on the lowest part of my hip and took a shot of my profile and sent it to her. That should do the trick. I was dripping wet.
J’ai envie de toi.
I leaned my head against the glass wall. She was killing me. The dirty French talk. Her body. All of it. I wanted her. I didn’t need to wait until after the game to have the follow up discussion. If I had to wait a few more weeks, maybe it was worth it.
I turned off the bathroom light and wrote back to her.
I want you too.
Good night, Sam.
Good night.
I plugged my phone into the charger next to my bed and pulled back the sheets. I set my alarm. I had a game day ritual at home that started with a big breakfast and a quick jog in the park. It helped me relax.
I watched a few minutes of Sports Now before I fell asleep.
The next morning, I jumped up from bed before my alarm went off. What in the hell was that? I rubbed my eyes and took a deep breath. I knew it was a dream, or a nightmare. But it had felt fucking real. I had bolted awake with fear coursing through me.
I had been holding Natalia. We were talking about the lake or something and I rolled away from her, and when I rolled back she was gone. Instead, Maddie was there. Fuck. I ran my fingers through my hair.
Why was I dreaming about Maddie? Ever since she called when I was at Natalia’s apartment I had done everything to forget the conversation. She said she needed money. Todd had kicked her out and she didn’t know where to go. Fuck that. I wasn’t giving her a dime of what I earned.
She didn’t deserve to be in dreams. She didn’t deserve to speak to me or see me. I didn’t think about her anymore. I didn’t have a single picture of her in my apartment. When we graduated, I got rid of everything that was hers. She had put me through the emotional wringer. I took another deep breath. This wasn’t how I wanted to start my Sunday.
I put on a pair of shorts and shuffled to the kitchen. I couldn’t let something stupid like a dream interfere with the game-day routine. I had a big breakfast to cook.
* * *
I arrived at the stadium earlier than usual. I was off all day. I had been since that nightmare forced me awake. I couldn’t shake it. I thought about calling Natalia, but what was I going to say? Yeah, I’m fucking freaked out about a dream I had where my ex replaced you. That wouldn’t go over well in any scenario. She was understanding, but that would be pushing it. I had already made the decision not to tell her she had called me when I was in Austin. I wasn’t going to bring it up now.
I threw my bag on top of my cubby and sat on the bench. As usual, the equipment guys had laid everything out for me and the rest of the team. All I had to do was suit up for the game. But sitting here, staring at my name, I wasn’t sure if my head was in the game. I pressed my palms to my forehead.
I needed a few minutes to get my shit together, because once I took the field everyone in the stadium counted on me. Wes counted on me. Coach counted on me. But right now, I wasn’t sure I could count on myself.
26
Natalia
I walked through the door and threw my bag on the floor. My body ached all over. Four hours of dancing and I was ready to crawl into a hot, steamy shower. I was headed to the bathroom when I saw Sam’s number pop up on the screen.
&
nbsp; “Hey, how was the game?” I asked. I turned on the hot water and added a bit of cold.
“Natalia…” He sounded upset.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” I turned off the water so I could give him my full attention.
“We lost.” His voice was low and deep.
“Oh, God. I’m sorry, Sam. You’re having such a great season.”
“Were having a great season,” he corrected me.
“It’s only one game.” I paced in my bathroom. I was out of my element. I didn’t know how to console him. I thought everyone took the sport too seriously, anyway.
“You don’t understand.”
“Did something else happen?” I was confused. His voice didn’t sound fun and flirty like usual.
“I dropped the game-winning pass.” He sounded anguished, and I suddenly understood why.
“Oh, God. That’s terrible.”
“It was a disaster. It was a perfect pass. Right at me. And I couldn’t hold on to it.”
I grasped at something to say. “There will be other games. Other chances. It’s okay, Sam. It’s okay.”
“There’s nothing okay about it.”
The silence fell between us. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you can see me tonight.”
“What?” I was exhausted. He had to be exhausted from the game.
“That place you mentioned. Canyon Lake. I’ll get a cabin and we can meet. It’s only forty-five minutes for both of us. Meet me.”
“Sam, I don’t know.” There wasn’t anything keeping me here. My Monday was free. “Okay, yeah, I can pack and be there in an hour, I guess.”
He sounded relieved. “I’ll text you the cabin. See you there.”
He hung up and I wondered what he had planned.
* * *
I parked under a scrub oak and looked at the little cabin Sam had rented for us. It was only a few yards from the lake. His car was already here.
I stepped from the car as he opened the front door to Cottage 11.
“You made it.” He jogged down the stairs and picked me up in his arms.
“It’s beautiful here.” The moon was bright on the lake. It didn’t look as if any of the other cabins were being rented.
“I’ll get your bags.” He was already pulling them from the backseat and taking them inside. “Take a look at the cabin.”
I followed him up the stairs. It was small, but romantic. Exactly what I pictured. Only, I didn’t expect to speed here like I did, but none of that mattered. We were together and Sam seemed more relaxed than when we spoke on the phone.
The door opened and I inhaled. “Oh my God.” It was filled with candles and flowers. There was a bottle of wine on the table and a small fire in the fireplace.
“You like it?”
“I love it. It’s exactly what I wanted.”
He came up behind me and deadbolted the door closed. His hands circled my waist and he kissed my neck.
“You’re exactly what I want too.”
He pushed my cover up off my shoulders, dropping it at my feet. I spun around in his arms, remembering the last time we were together we danced in my studio.
His lips brushed over mine and I tipped forward to kiss him.
“Are you okay?” My fingers played with his hair. “You sounded upset on the phone. I was worried.”
“With you I am.” He lifted me from the floor and carried me across the room. I expected him to lower me on the couch in front of the fire, but he kept walking.
“Where are we going?”
He kicked open another door. There was a huge tub filled with bubbles.
“Don’t you like to relax after a game?” he asked.
My eyes widened. “How did you know?” He placed my feet on the tile.
“Because I know what it feels like when you work your body like that for four hours. Ever muscle is sore. Every part hurts.”
I nodded, rubbing my neck. “Everything.”
“How’s your leg?” He lowered to the floor, dragging my shorts to my ankles. He stopped to kiss the back of my leg.
“Better when you do that.” I smiled. I liked the pampering. I liked the candles and the flowers and the huge tub with bubbles.
He rose from the floor and lifted my shirt overhead.
“Fuck, I love that your tits are so perfect,” he growled.
They hardened under his stare. I stepped toward him, pressing my hands to his chest.
“Are we both going to fit in that tub?” I looked over my shoulder.
He laughed. “No, it’s for you. Enjoy it and I’ll be waiting for you out there when you’re done.”
I looked at him strangely. “Really?”
“Really.” He kissed my forehead. “Enjoy it.”
He walked out of the bathroom and closed the door. I pivoted toward the bubbles. I was turned on from his kisses and his touch, but the bath was calling. I knew where he’d be when I got out.
I dipped one toe in, feeling the soothing relief of the hot water, then slid all the way in until I was submerged up to my shoulders. I rested my head on the back of the tub. I didn’t know Sam had a romantic side. I took in the moment and let my body relax. I didn’t worry about being a Goddess or trying out for the ballet. I didn’t worry that he wanted things to move faster than I did. I tried to block all of that out and realize that an insanely hot and sexy man had planned a spontaneous romantic overnight trip for me. That was all that mattered.
* * *
I wrapped the towel around my chest and cracked the bathroom door.
“You still here?” I asked.
“I have two glasses of cold wine.”
I padded across the floor and joined Sam on the couch. The gas logs crackled as if they were real. They were pretty to watch.
I took the glass from him. “Thank you.”
“How was the bath?”
“Everything I needed. Even my leg feels better. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He kissed me.
“How are you feeling? About the game.”
He shifted back on the cushions. “I’d rather not talk about it. It’s over. We lost. I can’t get that second back.”
“I understand.” I stared in the fire. “I feel the same way about my accident.”
“Then I guess I shouldn’t ask.”
I shook my head. “No, I think I can talk about it now. I’ve wanted to tell you. It’s a big part of me, Sam, and I think you should know what happened.” I took another sip of wine. “It was during a performance. And not just any performance. It was opening night. My parents were there. Do you know how huge it is that both of them were in the same room to see me perform?” I spoke the words slowly.
“I was prima ballerina. My father flew in from Paris. This was what all of us had been waiting for. Finally, after years of practice and fighting for that position—I had it. And they were so proud of me. Proud that all the work had finally paid off. The hours and the years of practice and pain had meant something.” The flames danced over the fake logs.
I paused, remembering what it felt like to see my family’s faces in the audience. How the pride poured through me like a white light when I stepped on the stage.
Sam took a sip of wine. “I think I can relate to that part, at least. My parents pushed me pretty hard to be a football player. At first it was all about being the quarterback, but after talking with a few scouts when I was ten, they decided I was going to be a tight end.”
I stared at him, realizing each moment we were together we had more in common.
“But tell me what happened. I want to hear.” He rested his hand on my knee.
“I’ve gone over it a hundred times. A thousand times. Questioning myself. Questioning my partner. Did I mis-step? Did I drop his hand at the wrong time? Did my foot miss his palm? What did I do to cause it? I’ve asked myself every question possible.”
I took another sip of wine and turned to face Sam. “And you
know what I figured out?”
“What’s that?”
“That it doesn’t matter. None of it matters. If Charles had turned or I had turned. Or if the lights were in our eyes. Or the music was too loud. Or I was so nervous to see my mother and father sitting together. It doesn’t matter. Because I can’t undo the fact that I fell on stage from six feet in the air and that I tore my hamstring in so many places the ballet couldn’t keep me on.
“I can’t make it not be true. It’s my story. It’s my history, Sam. The ballet let me go, and I did just enough rehab to join the Goddesses until auditions for the troupe next year. I hated myself for months for wearing those gold boots and slutty top, but I realized something about that too. Those boots are as important as my pointe shoes. That’s my story. I was a ballerina and now I’m a Goddess. And I have to be okay with it. I fell and destroyed my career.” I touched the side of his jaw, outlining the strong bones that made up the face I had fallen for. “So, what’s going to be your story? Are you going to let one night define who you are, or are you going to keep going?”
“It’s not the same.” He leaned into my hand. I could feel the roughness of his stubble against my soft palm.
“It is the same. Injury. Embarrassment. Letting other people down on the team. Having a theater full of people see your failure. Thinking you’ve lost something you can’t get back. Thinking the one thing you love more than anything is over. I know exactly what you’re feeling right now.”
He traced my collarbone and my skin prickled. “When I’m with you, I’m not worried about all that noise, Natalia. I don’t care right now that I dropped the pass and let the team down. I don’t care that Wes is mad as a fucking hornet. That the only replay they’re showing on Sports Now is the end of our game. You know why?”
I shook my head.
“Because this is what I want. You are what I want. This is the story I want.”
He loosened the tuck I had on the towel and it fell open. I gasped.
“It is a good story,” I whispered. “I think we have the same story, Sam.”
He nodded, sliding down the couch and pushing my knees wide. I forgot what we were talking about or that the night was slipping through our fingers. As soon as I felt his tongue press between my legs, all thoughts were gone. We were in our own world, in our own cabin where Sam was right. This was a fucking incredible story.
Beauty and the Billionaire Brothers Page 23
