Chapter 4
A year ago I wouldn’t have said yes to attending a birthday party for an athlete I work with.
I love the Andersons, but I don’t make a habit of socializing with the players outside of work related events.
Not that it’s something I’d get in trouble for; there’s no rule against it.
I guess it’s just a personal preference I’ve had since I started in this industry.
The fear of not being taken seriously in sports started early, and my ex was always quick to remind me that spending offseason time with the players gives the wrong impression.
Although, now I want to attend everything and anything just to give him a giant fuck you.
Even still, I think there will always be the unspoken differences for women in sports. While my male colleagues can hang out with whoever they want, whenever they want—women will still field the stupid ass comments about choosing this job just so we can date the players.
I’ve had an athlete, and believe me, they really aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.
So, finally saying yes felt good. Even if I did reread my response seventeen times before sending it and then three more for good measure after it said delivered. Overanalyzing and overthinking are just part of my charm.
I run my hands over the thighs of my jeans as I stare at myself in this bathroom mirror.
It’s so much smaller than the one in my old house.
There’s barely any room in here. A toilet, shower, and sink with a small piece of counter space, and I can basically reach everything without even moving my feet.
This isn’t even my house—or apartment, I should say. I’ve been staying with one of the interns, and while I appreciate her hospitality, I desperately need to get my own place for the season before I reevaluate my long-term living situation. Her lease is almost up anyway, so I’m on the clock.
“Are you ready?” Alyssa’s voice on the other side of the door stirs me out of my thoughts.
Alyssa is young and cool and very much new to the world of professional sports, but she’s taking it in stride.
She’s eager to learn and doesn’t seem to know how to say no to anyone.
A nice trait to have—the former, that is.
The latter could use some work, especially if she plans on making a career in the sports world.
Being kind is good, but being a people pleaser won’t help your career.
In some ways I’ve been taking her under my wing when I can, explaining the ins and outs to her, how to talk with the coaches and owners and not let them run all over her with their mansplaining and egos.
“Yeah, I’ll be right out,” I call back.
I decided to invite her to come with me. She’s a people person and she always invites me out with her friends, though I never go.
“Think they’ll have a coffee bar along with the alcohol bar?” I ask, swinging the door open to find her on the other side, bobby pin between her teeth as she places another one in her hair.
“Mmm, my guess is no, but we can grab one on the way out.”
Her fingers run along her slicked back hair that she has perfectly placed in a low ponytail, and I do a full scan of her outfit from head to toe. A pair of jeans and a white flowy tank top with a red lip. She’s a classic.
“Eh, it’s fine. We can get going, I don’t think it’s far.” I shrug as I walk by and give myself one last look in the mirror in the living room.
I can’t tell if this outfit is working for me, but after trying on three other things and finally being too tired to change again, I just left this one on. It’s a pair of light wash denim with a plain black cropped T-shirt and a pair of sneakers.
We both grab our bags, and I brush a dark wave of hair off my shoulder, tucking it behind my ear once, then twice, just before we head out.
Walking up to the Andersons, I’m quickly reminded that Ford is one of the highest paid tight ends in the league.
Their home sits right on the water with what looks to be their own private beach access behind it.
The large palm trees near the entrance make it feel like I’m about to walk into a tropical paradise.
Tapping lightly on the door, I can see Abby from beyond the glass, waving her hand at us.
“God, look how cute she is.” Alyssa giggles as Abby opens the door.
Abby’s smile is contagious as she greets us and welcomes us in. This foyer belongs in a Better Homes and Gardens magazine. The way she’s thought of the smallest details for the decor has me adding everything to a mental Pinterest board.
“I’m so glad you could make it, thank you for coming. Hi, I’m Abby,” she says, beaming at Alyssa. “Chase is on his way now with Ford so you’re just in time.”
Alyssa introduces herself, and Abby leads us to the living room where there are people scattered around the large space.
Many seated on the couches, some on the barstools along the kitchen island that backs right into the living room.
And beyond the living room, I can see out the sliding glass doors and into their backyard.
And it sure is dreamy. With a small golfing green, a large pool with a slide, and a full sunbathing deck.
Not to mention a killer view of the water.
I catch glimpses of a handful of Knights players as I make my way to the back of the crowd, following idly behind Alyssa. I knew her socialite ways would take over the moment she was in a crowd. Nate Campbell and Graham Turner both smile my way as I look around while walking in.
Other athletes are also in attendance too.
A few baseball players from the Angels, some players from Tampa’s hockey team and even two actors are here.
I’m not often starstruck, but I’m getting butterflies being in the same room as the guy who was a television heartthrob growing up.
To my surprise—and relief—not a single basketball player is here.
I breathe a silent sigh of reassurance knowing I don’t have to pretend not to notice anyone from my ex-husband’s life.
My attention is still lingering on my teenage crush as I take one more step behind Alyssa, reimagining my bedroom growing up, knowing his poster was definitely on my wall.
When I shift my focus, it lands on a pair of hazel eyes—a set of deep mossy forests that find me every single time we’re in the same room.
Liam doesn’t seem too interested in the birthday boy who just arrived, instead he grins at me with a cocky smirk, and I watch the word “surprise” leave his lips all too effortlessly. It’s a word meant for Ford, but it’s easy to see he’s saying it to me.
“Hey, Dem.” The greeting rolls off his lips as I get closer. He says my name like it’s his favorite word. “Can I get you a drink?” I don’t miss the gleam in his stare.
“I don’t—”
“You don’t drink alcohol, I know.”
I feel the tension I was holding in my shoulders fall as I look at the sincere smile on his face. He’s charming.
“They have plenty of drinks other than alcohol,” he begins as if he’s the waiter listing off a beverage menu. “Want a tea? There’s lemonade too. Unless you want a virgin drink, the bartender will make anything.”
Cheers erupt around us as Ford makes his way through to say hi to everyone who came to the party, getting louder every time he sees someone that he “can’t believe is here.”
Liam leans his back against the counter and places the palms of his hands on the marble as he waits for me to answer him or to say anything at all really. He’s in a black T-shirt with dark jeans and black boots. His look is effortless and yet he still looks so good. So annoyingly—good.
He tilts his head with a stupid, cocky smirk as he raises his brow. Feels like he just caught me giving him a once over, although I was not checking him out, if that’s what he’s grinning about. Merely becoming aware of my surroundings.
“I’m…thinking,” I nearly stutter, propping a hand on my hip.
Liam staring at me with his pretty hazel eyes and giving me that flirty little grin isn’t new. Although, the fact that I haven’t turned him down already for the simple drink offer is making alarms ring in my ears. Normally I’d be on the other side of those sliding glass doors by now.
“Take as much time as you need. I know this is a big decision.” He runs his tongue over his bottom lip as he stares before smiling again, and I bite the inside of my cheek so hard I’m shocked I don’t taste blood.
Brandon made a comment once years ago that he didn’t like the way Liam looked at me. Funny, considering I can’t recall a time Brandon looked at me with half the adoration that Liam does.
“Coffee,” I finally huff out.
“Iced or hot?”
The shock on my face comes from the fact that he’s not questioning me asking for a coffee at almost six in the evening and instead just wants to know how I want it, although I doubt they have café con leche, so I’ll happily take an iced coffee.
“Iced.”
“Stay here.” He pushes himself from the counter and disappears beyond the door and onto the patio, leaving a rich woodland scent in his wake. He kind of smells like a forest during Christmas time. I can’t explain it, but it’s comforting.
I can see him talking with a bartender and then he ushers Abby to his side and asks something close to her ear.
I thought I’d feel a little more out of place here considering I don’t socialize like this, but oddly enough, the five minutes I just had with Liam are the most comfortable I’ve felt in a while.
Realistically speaking, he is one of the first people I actually met when I started with the Knights all those years ago, so maybe I subconsciously created a small soft spot for him.
“Now, Demi, what are you doing without a mic attached to you?” Graham Turner gently places his hand on my arm as he comes to my side. “Nice to see you,” he says with a smile.
“Hi, good to see you. Congratulations on your retirement.”
“Oh, thank you. Can I get you anything?” he asks with a contagious smile.
I shake my head, knowing Liam has already made his way outside. “No, thank you. Liam’s grabbing me something.”
Graham’s brows raise slightly as he nods with a grin. “What a gentleman,” he says, lowering his voice as he begins to move. “I better go see what the birthday boy is up to.”
Graham tips his hat at me before he walks away, and I take in a deep breath, doing a quick scan of my surroundings.
This entire house is full of people. Something that definitely overwhelms me a bit, but it’s nice when I see familiar faces in nearly every corner. And it’s clear to see how well loved Ford is by the amount of people here to celebrate with him.
When I glance back to the patio, it’s easy to find Liam right away. He’s still standing next to the outdoor bar, but he has his arm around a small silver-haired elderly woman. I’ve seen her before at the Recreation Center downtown. I’m pretty sure she’s one of the people who help run it.
I watch as he pulls her in, kissing her near her temple and keeping her close under his arm. She smiles at him and he grabs a drink for her before walking her to a chair at the patio table.
I’m glued to the interaction. He’s so attentive with her, so genuine, and it’s a very sweet and tender moment I seem to have barged in on.
Shaking my head, I turn my attention to the food on the counter in front of me as I blow out a sigh.
Lots of men help elderly women. This isn’t something new and profound that Liam Evans is discovering. But it does make me smile.