“Sorry to interrupt,” I say as I open the door. “I have a file from—”
The room isn’t filled with coaches slurping spaghetti while debating offense strategy. In place of the conference table is a table set for two with candles and a bouquet of hydrangeas, peonies, and roses. I must be in the wrong room. Before I get a chance to turn around, arms wrap around me from behind.
“Surprise!” Chase spins me around, then kisses me.
“Hey there, stranger,” I say when we break our kiss.
“I’m sorry we couldn’t spend the day together, but I’m hoping dinner will make up for it. I—”
I interrupt him with another kiss. “I can’t believe you did this! When I got off the plane and you weren’t there, I was so disappointed. But this is perfect. Thank you.” I squeeze him so tightly I worry I might break a rib. “God, I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too.” He gently runs his thumb along the back of my neck. “I got spoiled having you home last year. Everything just feels so empty without you here.”
I rest my head on his chest, take a deep breath, and soak in his scent. “I was just thinking the same thing. While I’ve been doing all this stuff with the fashion line, I have these ridiculously long days filled with really exciting things. I want to come home and talk to you about them, but I come home to an empty hotel room. Our time zones are off, so I can’t even call you. No matter how great my day was, it feels meaningless when I can’t share it with you.”
He kisses the top of my head and holds me a little tighter. “I come home at night and watch film, and it feels wrong without you. I’ll turn to say something, and you’re not there. So then I’m talking to your pillow. Granted, your pillow always agrees with me, which is a nice change of pace, but it’s not the same. Then all I can do is think about where you are and what you’re doing. What you’re wearing,” he says in a mischievous tone. He pulls away, tucks a few curls behind my ear, and looks into my eyes. “I’m so distracted thinking about you that I can’t focus and have to keep rewinding. Last week, I had to watch the same play thirty-two times!”
I look in his eyes and think about all the things I’ve been missing. I know if I were home, we’d barely see each other, but the little time we would get is so precious. The smell of him on the sheets when I crawl into bed. The tickle of his breath against the back of my neck while he sleeps. Waking up with his arms around me. Our morning run together. Slipping kale into his morning smoothie and telling him the green is kiwi. I live for those moments of familiarity and comfort that make me feel like I’m home.
I take his hand and thread my fingers between his. “I don’t know how much longer I want to do this. I love all the projects I’m working on, but not as much as I love our life together. There has to be a way to find balance, for me to work on things that are important to me without spending twenty-five days out of the month on the road.”
Chase steps toward the table, sits on one of the chairs, then pulls me onto his lap. Resting his hand on my hip, he runs his thumb back and forth. “We could move to New York. I know we both love the idea of living here, but if you need to be in New York to make your dreams a reality, then maybe we should move. I could see the Jets or the Giants offering me a sweet deal to move. My contract is up at the end of this year. Maybe it’s the perfect time to think about a change?”
My God, I love this man. Being a Niner is everything to him, but I can tell from the sincerity in his voice that he means it. He’d give it all up for me. “I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you’d even consider that, but no. This is our home. Our family is here. I want our kids to grow up with your parents and Charlie and Spencer. Hell, I’ve been gone a few weeks and I feel like Calder has doubled in size, and it kills me. If I stay this course, this is what it’ll be like with our kids. A nanny will see the smiles and giggles, and I’ll miss it all. I don’t want that. There was a time in my life when I’d sacrifice everything for my career. I’m just not there anymore.”
“I don’t want you to have to give up anything. I don’t want you to have any regrets. We are so lucky that we have the resources and opportunities for you to do anything you want. The sky’s the limit. I don’t want something like geography to hold you back. That’s what planes and video calls are for.”
“I don’t want to be the next Tory Burch. I’m not looking to take over the fashion world. Maybe I can open up a shop here in San Francisco. Something small. Boutiquey? Or maybe I’ll say fuck it all and just be a mom and a wife. And your quarterback coach. God knows you need it. You’re opening your hips up when you throw. Did you get hurt?” He starts to answer when it dawns on me why I was down here in the first place. I jump off his lap. “Oh no, I have to bring Jeb’s file to Kent and the coaches. They’re waiting on it. I totally forgot.”
“You’re fine. Jeb was in on my surprise. I’m sure it was just his way to get you here.” Chase opens the folder, then holds it upside down. “See? Empty.” He tosses the folder in the recycling bin. “Let’s eat. I only have an hour before I have to leave to catch the plane.” He takes the lid off my plate, then pulls my chair out for me. “I ordered gnocchi and some eggplant dish for you. I spoke to the chef, and he swore to me that it’s vegan.”
Even though he won’t say it out loud, I know he thinks my choice to stay vegan is silly, but regardless of what he thinks, he’s so supportive. Every time we go out, he grills the waiter and often the manager to make sure the kitchen adheres to my requests. He’s so protective of me that I know he didn’t pass this off to a PA to put together. With how busy he is, he still found the time to organize it himself.
I kiss him before I sit. “Thank you. This is so sweet, and it means the world to me.”
He places a kiss on my neck as he pushes in my chair. “It’s purely selfish. Going this long without seeing you is killing me. When Coach said I couldn’t leave to pick you up, I thought I was going to lose it. I know you flew in just to spend this afternoon with me, and I didn’t want to waste the opportunity. You fly to DC tomorrow?”
“Yeah, I have a nine o’clock flight. The director, editor, and I are going to bust our asses all weekend to get the documentary back on track. They’re majorly behind schedule. The premier is in two months, and they don’t even have a rough cut yet. I’m sorry I can’t be in Seattle.” I hate missing his games. Especially ones this important. “But I’ll be watching.”
He sits across from me and takes the lid off his plate. “I know you will.”
I slather a piece of gnocchi in sauce. “Do you feel ready for the game?”
He stabs a piece of chicken, then pops it in his mouth. “I think so. We’re healthy this week, which is an advantage. Seattle’s banged up. They had ten injuries in last week’s game.”
I take a sip of my water. “I saw that. It was a brutal game against St. Louis. Three guys had to be carted off. All career-ending injuries.”
I hate seeing guys get hurt. Most people’s first thought is how the injury impacts their fantasy team or what it’ll mean for the team for the rest of the season, but my mind immediately goes to the player. In the blink of an eye, his career could be over. Then what? These guys have mortgages to pay. Kids to feed. Even though they know it’s a dangerous game, no one wakes up thinking, “This could be my last game.” Our brains just don’t work that way. Even though you know it could happen, you’re never prepared for it.
“They’ve been scrambling to fill roster spots. My prediction’s that they’re going to be disorganized and we can use that to our advantage.” He shrugs. “But you never know. Sometimes it’s the ragtag team that surprises everyone. The guys they called up have been working construction or in a grocery store. They want in the league so bad, they’re going to play their hearts out.”
I cut into a piece of eggplant. “How’s the team handling all the pressure?”
“We’ve all agreed to a media lock-down. No one is reading anything, watching anything. Reporters have been warned that we won’t answe
r any questions about a three-peat. Our biggest threat is the hype. If we let the hype get into our heads, we’ll fail. But if we can keep that at bay, anything could happen.”
Chase fills me in on their strategy while we eat. He seems confident, but I can tell the pressure is wearing on him. Two more weeks until his bye week, and it can’t come soon enough. He needs a break.
He refills our waters. “Enough about football. How was New York? What did you think of the classes you took?”
I take a bite of gnocchi. “Good, but the days were really long. The morning symposium on textiles went from nine until three thirty. Then I had to run across Parsons’ campus to get to the afternoon symposium on manufacturing. The class didn’t get out until ten thirty, sometimes close to eleven. When I got back to the hotel, I barely had enough brain power to wash my face and change before passing out.”
He takes a sip of his water. “Was it worth it?”
“Yes, absolutely. It would have taken me years of mentoring to pick up all the information I learned in two weeks.”
He takes a piece of bread and dips it in the remaining sauce on his plate. “When do you go back?”
“I’ll be there next week to meet with wedding dress designers and to see you play the Giants. But then I don’t think I’ll have to go back until after Thanksgiving, possibly even after the first of the year. I can do almost everything virtually, I think.”
He opens his mouth, but he’s interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Brennan,” Bethany, one of the interns, says as she pops her head in. She looks around, and her cheeks turn bright red. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry for interrupting. Coach McCowan asked me to come get you. I thought this was just a meeting.” She averts her eyes, then turns back toward the door. “I’ll get out of your way. Oh, um, Coach says you have to leave for the plane in twenty minutes. Sorry again,” she says as she closes the door.
I can’t help but laugh. “You’d think she walked in on us having sex.”
Chase flashes a devious grin. “And that right there is the reason I didn’t try. I sure as hell thought about it, but I know there’s no privacy in this building.”
“As tempting as it is, I think we should avoid anything that will cause even more tabloid attention.”
He winces. “About that. I was waiting until we could talk face to face to tell you about this.”
I toss my napkin onto my plate. “What?”
“The press at the house is getting… intense. They’ve found ways to sneak past the guard tower. Everyone’s trying to get details on the wedding. I’ve gotten a few calls that they’ve been pestering the neighbors. I came out the other morning and they were going through the trash. The security company said they’ll patrol more often, but I don’t think it’s enough. I’m not comfortable with you staying there by yourself. I think you should stay in the city tonight, where you’ll be more protected.”
I drop my head into my hands and rub my temples. “It’s been getting worse in New York as well. I haven’t said anything because I don’t want to worry you, but they’re everywhere.”
He gets up and crouches in front of me. “I wish you would’ve told me. I would have hired you security. How bad is it?”
I had been hoping to avoid this subject. The last thing Chase needs right now is more stress, more pressure, more things to worry about, and he will worry. I’m far more adept and comfortable with dealing with the press than he is. I’ve been doing it my whole life, and this is all still relatively new to him. Couple that with the fact that I’m always thousands of miles away and there’s absolutely nothing he can do to protect me, and he’ll be too concerned. I’m tempted to lie, to downplay it, but that will come back to bite me in the ass.
I take a deep breath and tell the truth. “They wait outside my hotel and outside class. Hotel security caught someone trying to break in. He got away, so we don’t know if he was paparazzi or just a petty thief, but either way, things are getting crazy.”
He slaps the table. “A break-in? Jesus, Ari! You should have told me! He could have been a murderer or a rapist, or some fucked up sociopath who likes to torture women! How could you keep this from me?”
“Just like you should have told me they’re sifting through our garbage! I didn’t want to tell you over the phone, so I was waiting until I saw you. Just like you did with me.”
“You can’t compare the two! Some guy picking through our trash is not the same as someone trying to break into your hotel room! Do you have any idea what it would have done to me if something happened to you?” He runs his fingers through his hair as he paces. “If someone got into your hotel room, they could do anything to you, and no one would know. You and I sometimes go days without talking. You could be lying dead in your hotel room for days, and I’d never know!”
I step into his path and put a hand on each shoulder. “I’m okay. Nothing happened, and I’m here,” I say as softly as I can, hoping to soothe his anxiety. “Just breathe.”
He pulls me to him so tightly I can’t breathe. “I just got this image of you hurt… after your mom, I… all this attention just scares the shit out of me.”
Dammit. I can be a really insensitive moron sometimes. I sometimes forget I don’t have exclusive rights to the trauma from Mom’s death. “We’ll change things. I promise to check in at least with a text every night. Maybe a bodyguard while I’m in New York is a good idea. I’ll have Helen make some calls.”
“What do you think about getting a dog?” he asks. “A big ferocious one that can go with you everywhere?”
I chuckle. “Actually, I think it’s a great idea.”
“I was kidding,” he replies.
I step back so I can look at his face. “I’m not. It’s brilliant. The press will keep their distance if we have a big dog. He’ll bark if anyone comes near the house. I can bring him with me when I travel. A thief won’t break in if I have a dog barking on the other side of the door. We can have him poop all over the yard, so if the press comes onto the yard, they’ll smell like the filth they are for the rest of the day. A dog is the solution to all our problems. Well, our press problems.”
He tilts his head and looks at me as though I’ve suggested we hire Scooby-Doo to lead our security team. “We don’t have time for dog. We barely have time for each other.”
“I think it’s time we make time. If we have a dog, that means more time at home. More time together. This could be a good trial run for having kids. We could get him a little Brennan jersey to wear on Sundays. It’ll be so cute.” I push out my bottom lip. “I’ve always wanted a dog.”
He narrows his eyes and studies me. “Are you pouting? Never in my life have I seen you pout.”
I shrug. “We don’t have the time or privacy for other means of persuasion. A girl’s got to dig into her bag of tricks. Did it work?”
There’s another knock at the door. “Mr. Brennan? The bus is ready to leave.”
“Crap. I have to go. I’ll think about the dog.” He pulls me into his arms and kisses me. “I love you.”
“I love you more,” I reply.
He shakes his head. “Not possible.”
I slap him on the ass. “Go. Catch your plane. Kick Seattle’s ass. Then come home to me.”
Chapter Nine
Arianna
“Arianna, are you having the wedding here?”
“When’s the wedding, Ari?”
“How does Henrik feel about the engagement?”
“Show us the ring again!”
“We have reports of Chase being in touch with Jenna Carlyle. Do you care to comment?”
“Is Jenna coming to the wedding?”
I push through the crowd of at least twenty, maybe even thirty, photographers toward the entrance of the Ritz at Half Moon Bay. I’m meeting with the other players’ wives and girlfriends.
I could kill Helen for scheduling this today. Chase and I just got home from New York late last night. We were going to s
pend the day together before we hop on a red-eye to Florida to meet Bryan at Vespers to go over plans for the wedding. My goal was for Chase to sleep in and rest. His body and mind are in desperate need of downtime. But she scheduled this meeting for me, so Chase decided to go to the stadium and meet with the coaches. So much for downtime.
I would have preferred to meet in the event planner’s office—neutral territory and out of the public eye—but Cammie thought it would be best we meet at the venue. If the meeting goes well, perhaps we can start brainstorming ideas. If the meeting goes south, at least I’ve seen the space and can work with the event planner from there. I’ve asked Charlie and Katie to join us in a half hour or so. That should give us time for the theatrics to settle down. If I ever make it to the front door, that is.
The doorman does his best, but the photographers ignore him. He puts his arm around me and shields me as he guides me to the door. I’m sure tomorrow the internet will be flooded with rumors I’m having an affair with the doorman.
I smile at him. “Thank you. I’m so sorry for this. This gaggle of monkeys can’t make your job very easy.”
He tips his hat to me. “It’s no trouble at all, ma’am. Enjoy your stay.”
Cammie rushes over to me once I’m inside. “I’m so sorry. How did they even know you’d be here?”
I take off my coat, then hand it to the coat-check girl. “They have a sixth sense.”
She looks back at the crowd taking pictures of us through the window. “I never would have suggested meeting here if I knew it would be like that.”
I put my hand on her arm. “Don’t worry. The good thing is they’ll think this is where I’m getting married, and it’ll throw them off the scent of the actual location. See, there’s always a silver lining.”
She glares at them through the window. “I don’t know how you do it. I would have stabbed them with my umbrella.”
I shrug. “You get used to it.”
Following the signs to the ballroom, she leads me through the lobby, then down a flight of stairs. In front of the doors to the ballroom is a lounge area where a group of women are seated in the sleek loveseats and armchairs.
Love To Love You (Love/Hate #3) Page 9
