The next costume change saw me in a pair of diamond-encrusted figure skates and a teal Miami Dolphins jersey. I sat on the bench in a mock-up of a locker room with one skate blade on the floor and my other leg extended across the bench, my skate propped up on Julian’s thigh while I stared at him and he stared at the camera, my untied laces between his fingers. His hair was messy, like he’d just finished a game, and his skin and bare chest had been smothered in water and baby oil, to give the impression he was sweating. His football pants were undone, abs rippling under beautifully bronzed skin. The camera really did love him, and he was hardly even trying.
The last shots to be taken were less intense. I sat against the ivory velvet headboard on a king size bed wearing a man’s half-unbuttoned shirt. Julian lay on his back between my thighs, his head below my stomach as he stretched out on unmade sheets in a pair of black boxer briefs. My hand dug into his hair, and the camera snapped when he kissed my inner thigh, his arm wrapped around my bent leg.
“Wow. Both of you, amazing. These are mesmerizing. If November’s issue doesn’t see copies flying off the shelves, there’s something wrong with people. I mean, look at you…” Robert prodded his camera screen on one of the first pictures taken of me and Julian. “You don’t have to be interested in sport to want a copy of this.”
He was right, the pictures had turned out great. The most difficult aspect of the day had been the outfit changes and the constant retouching of hair and makeup. Everything else was easy. Staring at Julian all day? A complete breeze.
We sat down for the interview over lunch with Zara Kill, the reporter handling the final part of the day.
“I have to say, you guys, Robert showed me some of your photo shoot stills and, oh my, I loved them. That was your first shoot together, is that right?”
“Our first anything for the public,” Julian said, taking the lead like usual.
“And how did it go? Is he easy to work with?” Zara asked me with her digital recorder in hand, a notebook and pen balancing on her crossed legs.
“It was great,” I said. “The staff were all lovely and made me feel so comfortable. Julian was kind of a show-stealer, but I guess that’s his job. I was like the magician’s assistant,” I joked.
“I thought you stole the show myself. Together, you’re really something quite special. And I’m sure you’re aware, our readers are dying to hear how you two actually met.”
Julian looked at me sideways and I raised my eyebrows, offering him the opportunity to take this one. “Go ahead,” he said.
I looked at Zara. “We both went to Boston University. I was in my freshman year and Julian was a junior. We were assigned to work on a paper together that was based on each other and I, uh, didn’t actually like Julian very much. He was that arrogant campus big-shot that never had to work for anything.” I felt Julian’s eyes on me, a humorous look on his face when I glanced at him. “But he wasn’t anything like that. Not really.”
“So, he wasn’t the arrogant jock you thought he was?” Zara asked, amused by our story.
“Oh, he was arrogant. But he was never handed an easy life like I’d assumed. He’s the hardest working person I know. I’m so lucky I get to grow with him and go through these changes with him.”
“And how have the wives and girlfriends taken to one of the newest members of the Dolphins family? Have you found it easy making friends?”
Julian folded his arms in front of him, the look leveled at me a warning to watch what came out of my mouth.
“I haven’t actually met any of the wives and girlfriends yet. I haven’t even been to one of Julian’s games. I’m so busy with college and my skating, the opportunity’s never been there. My first game will be just after Thanksgiving when the Dolphins play the Rams. So I’m looking forward to that.”
“Are you worried at all that the women won’t accept you because of your status, and being the new girl?”
“Status?” I questioned.
“The fact you and Julian aren’t married, or even engaged. It can be a ruthless environment to find yourself in if you aren’t aware of what you’re walking into.”
And then the words were flying out of my mouth, uncensored and unrestrained. “I don’t need a proposal to validate my relationship to anyone, or myself. I’m twenty years old. It would be stranger if I were getting married. Julian’s NFL career’s taking off and I’m in the middle of my sophomore year at college, juggling my figure skating coaching on top of that. We don’t need the stress of that kind of commitment. Love’s enough right now, and I’m not concerned about people who might judge us for not wearing matching wedding rings.”
Julian’s exhale let me know I’d said too much.
“What about you, Julian? Your teammate and left tackle, Garth Leban, is expecting his first child with his wife of five years Rayna Leban. Is talk of babies in the locker room giving you any pause for thought? Could you see yourself with a little one in the near future?”
Controversial question, considering I’d just told Zara we weren’t tying the knot any time soon. She was stirring the pot. I got it; this was what she was paid to do. I’d fed right into her hands with my outburst, I deserved it.
Julian wasn’t fazed, and a lot more relaxed than I was. “Absolutely not. I stand by what Angel said. We aren’t at the right place in our lives to consider having children or getting married. You don’t rush those things at our age, you plan for a family and timing’s everything. For as long as Angel’s happy with just me, that’s the how it’ll stay. I’m happy for Leban and his wife, they’re going to be great parents. Leban’s a natural around the other players’ kids, but I don’t see that for us just yet.”
Zara nodded, immersed in Julian’s ease at being put under pressure. And clearly impressed on what he had to say. I’d put money on it he’d only have to recite the alphabet and he’d get the same enamored look. It wasn’t Zara’s fault, Julian had that effect on everyone. She was just another one of his victims.
“And most importantly, how do you make your relationship work? Getting the chance to sit down with you both today, you’re obviously doing something right. Do you have any tips or advice for other couples trying to survive the dreaded long-distance relationship?”
“Phone sex and Snapchat,” Julian joked, leaning forward over his knees and pulling on his snapback.
Zara smiled at Julian, her cheeks flushing and heeled-foot tapping over her crossed knee. “Anything to add, Angel?”
I hoped Julian knew that inside, I was rolling my eyes. “For me, the main thing is how much I trust Julian. Without that, long-distance wouldn’t work. Space doesn’t have to be a bad thing, if you make the effort to see and speak to each other when you can. And I second Julian on the Snapchat. It definitely helps.”
The rest of the questions were pretty standard, and I successfully kept any more outbursts to myself, making sure not to upset anyone on Julian’s team, or their families. We left the studio mid-afternoon, and I had the rest of the evening with Julian before he picked up practice again in the morning and I had to fly home to Los Angeles.
But we had tonight, and I was making the most of it if it killed me. Which it might, because I was drained. Again.
“I’ll take you out to dinner if you’re feeling up to it?” Julian offered on the ride back to his condo.
“Can we go to the beach? We can take Dog with us.”
“Sounds good to me. You were incredible today, by the way. You killed it in the shoot. I can’t wait to see the finished article.”
“Will you buy it?”
“Every last one. I can’t have any other men finding out about you.”
“I don’t care about other men.”
Julian squeezed my thigh, a dimple showing in his cheek through his smile. “I’ll be holding you to that.”
“Do you think what I said about marriage and the wives was really bad?” I cringed, pressing my teeth together.
“Nah. You were honest. If that offen
ds someone, that’s their problem. Our Life, our business. But I wouldn’t worry about it, the wives haven’t got any reason not to like you.”
“Would you mind if I said I didn’t care if they liked me or not?”
Julian laughed, taking his hand from my thigh to down shift. “Couldn’t give a shit, babe. I’m here to play football, you can handle yourself. Just no catfights, yeah?”
The orange sun was setting over Lummus Park. The clouds transformed to fluffy pillows of gold above the palm trees. I’d changed back into my Levi’s cutoff jean shorts and long-sleeve white t-shirt. My face still covered in makeup, I’d left the studio with a full pack of professional makeup removal wipes and the diamond encrusted figure skates that Sports Illustrated kindly let me keep.
Rather than tug on his leash in a desperate attempt to break free, Dog idled by my side, step for step with my leisurely pace. I was no pet expert, but I knew that being taken for a walk was one of a dog’s favorite things to do. “Is he always this sad?” I asked Julian. “There must be something that cheers him up.”
Julian walked next to the stone wall that ran along beach’s edge. “Not too much when he’s with me. I don’t spend enough time with him.” I looked sideways at Julian to see him staring down at me. “You know Angela, who I was with when I brought Dog home? She checks in on him when I can’t be there. So, yeah, he likes her okay.” He scratched the side of his neck. “She’s doing me a favor, but it pisses me off.”
“Because he prefers her over you?”
Julian nodded, his hand smoothing over the skin at the back of his neck.
“He hasn’t taken to me much either, if that takes any of the pressure off.” I smiled, pulling a lesser smile from Julian. This dog thing really bothered him.
Julian cut across the sidewalk to a turquoise painted bench, Dog’s nose automatically twitching in that same direction. I sat on the bench while Julian pulled the top on a bottle of water to squirt into Dog’s greedy mouth. When he’d had enough and the bottle was empty, he lay down at Julian’s feet, pink tongue slapping at his wet nose.
Julian might have been getting more love from Dog than he realized.
“How’s school going?” he asked.
I crossed my legs under me and shuffled around on the bench, so I was facing Julian, who was hunched over his knees stroking Dog. “It’s tough. But all those credits will be worth it in the end.”
“And how’s your job?”
“I’m taking on so many extra private lessons, I actually have some savings now and a steady bank balance.”
“You should think about dropping an elective. It’s only my opinion, but you took on too many. You’re one person, Angel. No one’s going to like you any less for it.”
“What’re you saying?”
“Nothing that hasn’t already come out of my mouth.”
“You think I can’t cope?”
“I don’t know, you tell me. You’ve signed up for all the college courses Santa Monica has to offer, you’re working at the rink sometimes more than three nights a week, plus weekends. Your grandmother just died, and you haven’t mentioned her name once since you acted like the world ended.”
My eyes widened and Julian sighed, hanging his head and rubbing between his eyebrows. “That didn’t come out right. But you’ve got me thinking some crazy shit, Angel.”
“Why have I?”
“Some people say too much and you’re barely saying anything. Is it Nellie? You can talk to me about her.”
“And say what about her? That she’s dead and she isn’t coming back? I don’t talk about her because I’ve got nothing to say. Some days it hurts just to think her name.” Julian wrapped his hand around my ankle, squeezing the skin there gently. “I sometimes think if I wasn’t there when she died, maybe it would be easier. But I see that morning in my head and I just want to scream. I can’t ever wipe away that image. Not today, not tomorrow. And, you know, a normal person would call their mom, or have their mom be there for them and I don’t know where the hell mine is.”
Then it was all coming out. I was powerless to stop it, and maybe that’s what I needed. The room to vent, to just temporarily let it all go.
“And I refuse to go there with my dad. I’m sure he thinks she didn’t really die, or he’s in a desperate state of denial. How a person can downplay their own mother’s death is a talent I’ve never seen before. If I was to go to him, he’d probably tell me to suck it up and pat me awkwardly on the back.”
“So, come to me.” Julian’s thumb caught the tear before it dripped off my chin, and I shook my head and formed a smile.
“I really am okay. More angry than I realized, maybe. But on the whole, I could be worse. And you’re busy—”
“Don’t ever use that as a reason.”
“That’ so easy for you to say, but if you were in my shoes, I know you wouldn’t want to constantly bother me with your problems. Julian, you’d take on the world by yourself and not say a single word about it.”
“That doesn’t mean I want you to do the same.”
I scooted up onto my knees and placed my hands on Julian’s thigh. For once, I hovered over him instead of the other way around, and I lowered my mouth to his in a kiss. I pulled back, looking into eyes my new favorite shade of blue. “I miss Nellie every day. It’s like a part of my heart has been torn off and I don’t know how to repair the damage.”
Julian’s hand coasted over the curve of my waist under my shirt, and before I knew what was happening, he’d pulled me onto his lap. “I could help with that.”
“You already do. I was co-dependent once, I won’t go there a second time. Leaving you is hard enough. Being away from you for so long tests my sanity. But if I’m as serious about you as I think I am, I can’t rely on you to always save the day. It’s not healthy, and I’ve had my fair share of unhealthy.”
“You let Jordan treat you like trash, but you’ve got me at arm’s length.”
“Because I’ve learned my lesson. And you won’t admit it but what you’ve got going on here is more important. The NFL is your life now, it demands all of you. College and skating demands all of me, and when it’s right, we can have each other. Completely.”
“I want you completely now.”
“You have me.”
“Just not physically.”
“Yet.”
Julian tugged me closer, my thighs clenched at either side of his trim waist as his fingers pressed into my skin like he was subconsciously marking me. “I won’t wait forever. One day, I’m going to take you and you won’t have any say in it. I’m putting that out there now, so you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Consider me warned.”
“I’m taking you home now, so I can fuck you stupid before you go back to California tomorrow. You wanna say no to that, too?”
I bit the inside of my mouth, stunting a smile. “Hmm, let me think about that.” I burst into laughter when Julian stood up and threw me over his shoulder, his arm secured under my ass cheeks as he carried me to the car, my laughter and protests going intentionally ignored.
M atty Ives, left guard, held the meeting room door with his middle finger, sporting the hairiest knuckles I’d ever seen, aside from that one time I went to Franklin Park Zoo in middle school. “Bar?” he asked in a voice so deep it rumbled.
I stuck out my foot, wedging the door open for the guy behind. One of my other linemen, Todd Cochrane.
“I’m going up,” I said to Matty. “I’ve got more than just the Jets to think about.”
I slipped my room key from my pocket and kept my head down as I passed the hotel’s bar and lounge. Hearing my name, I looked up as I walked. Angela sat at one of the tables in the bar on her own, a binder, notebook and a glass of wine laid out in front of her. “A minute of your time?” she said.
I rubbed my brow, warding off the headache she was sure to bring. “You aren’t supposed to be here,” I said, pulling out the other chair at the circular glass tab
le.
“And you shouldn’t have done the Sports Illustrated segment, but you did.”
“Why shouldn’t I have done it?” I asked, ignoring the voice that told me to just keep quiet.
Angela lay her arms over her binder as she leaned forward, hands clasping together. “It wasn’t a good career move for you.”
“How so?”
She shrugged, her nonchalance the fakest I’d come across in a long time. I knew she didn’t care. Every word she spoke, every move she made, it was intentional. “You have an audience outside of the gridiron. Introducing your girlfriend to the world in such a spectacular fashion, it just isn’t good for business.”
“What business?”
“Your business. You are the product. Shoving your beautiful girlfriend in the faces of women who waddle through life believing one day they’re going to be wifed up by you… you stand to lose a lot of admirers. If you were dating Shrek, the magazine coverage could have swung in your favor. But you aren’t, and I think you’ve made a professional, business and financial mistake.”
I scratched my forehead with my thumb. I could do without the lecture. “Thanks for your great wisdom. I’m going to bed.”
Angela stood when I did, slotting herself into my direct path. She took off her reading glasses, arms folding over her red dress. “I’m not playing here, Rookie. You are a by-product of the NFL and you owe your fans what they pay for. Buying your jersey, the merch with your name and number, that all stops if you are no longer part of the deal. Is it sad and pathetic? Sure. But it’s necessary. I know you aren’t dumb enough to think most of your fans like or care about football, or even the Dolphins. God, no. More than fifty percent of your supporters are women, and guess what, honey? They don’t give a fuck how many yards you pass for, how many touchdowns you make.”
One hasty look around the bar confirmed people were watching us. I took a step back, allowing space to come between us. Angela could be right in what she was saying, I was no expert on branding or women. But she had another think coming if she thought I was hiding mine.
Losing Seven (Falling for Seven Book 2) Page 11
