Chapter 32
Liam and I have been spending more time together than I ever thought we would. It’s been easy and fun, and quite honestly, it’s felt nourishing. His company fills something within me. He helps me feel seen—but not just seen, understood. Valued.
We kiss, sure. But we haven’t shared any moments further than that aside from the one time he devoured me on the kitchen counter. I’ve thought about that often over the last couple weeks—and I’m not ashamed to admit it.
Right now, the way we spend time together feels like something we both kind of need, and when I left Liam the other night part of me wanted to turn right back around and knock on his door.
It’s hard to ignore how he makes me feel when it’s all I’ve ever wanted. I’ve felt cared for before, but Liam takes that simple word to a completely new level. He wants to know me. All of me.
My career is important to me, there’s no way I’d say it isn’t.
Women are constantly put down in this profession, working ten times harder to be taken seriously and I’ve always been so proud of the strides I’ve made in this field.
But for me, spending time with Liam doesn’t diminish any of that.
In a lot of ways, it feels like he helps me feel even stronger in this league.
He consistently makes sure the moments we spend together are of my own choosing.
Sure, the first coffee meeting was the result of a bet he initiated, but he gave me an out immediately after he won.
He values my job and my role, and I know that if tomorrow I said I couldn’t see him anymore, he’d respect my decision.
Because Liam has always been about my decision.
Is it foolish to spend time with him? Maybe?
Maybe not, though. I can’t speak for everyone in this industry, but I know my heart, and I feel like I now have a pretty good grasp on who Liam is.
This isn’t just for show or for favoritism.
Hell, no one even knows about us spending any time together and I’ve been singing his professional praises for years.
I don’t know exactly what any of this is, but I know right now I’m healing a part of me that has felt broken for a long time.
And I won’t let anyone make me feel bad about that.
“Morning. The meeting starts in ten minutes, but Chris is going to grab coffees. Do you want one?” Kyle Long, one of the commentators on my crew, comes up beside me.
He’s wearing khaki pants and a dark blue polo.
He’s a colleague I’ve worked with for years and probably who I’m closest to.
His wife and I have gotten dinner together a handful of times and we’ve connected over our love of books.
“Oh, that’d be great, thank you so much.” I gather the papers from the table into the crook of my elbow. “Should I just text him, or do you have a running list on your phone and I’ll just give you my order?”
Chris is one of the interns and easily the best one on our staff. He’s quick, funny, and always so helpful. He’s eager to be here and it reminds me of myself.
“Just put it on this list,” he says, handing me the phone as two other colleagues walk in.
Tom and Michael approach Kyle, giving him a handshake as I’m typing my order into the phone.
Tom is an older gentleman, he played football back in the seventies and he’s so knowledgeable.
I absolutely love working with him. Michael, on the other hand, can be a piece of work.
He knows so much; he picks up on plays and penalties during games even before they’re called, so for the network, he’s a dream.
And at the end of the day, he’s a supportive colleague—but he has his moments.
“Demi, you taking coffee orders?” Michael’s sarcastic tone goes in one ear and out the other, but my eyes sear into him. “I’m kidding,” he retreats, attempting to seem playful.
“Chris is going to grab coffee.” Kyle takes a seat in one of the gray chairs placed around the table in the conference room, and I hand him back his phone.
I don’t give Michael the satisfaction of a reply, but I do say good morning and greet Tom who takes a seat to my left.
Chris pokes his head in a few minutes into the meeting, dropping the coffees off as Greg is going over some things for the upcoming schedule. It’s hard to believe we’re in week seven already. Mid-October got here in the blink of an eye.
Once Greg wraps up, Michael starts going over offensive plays on film. The Knights are playing Denver, Liam’s dad’s former team. And I’m pretty certain that’s probably why his dad has been calling and texting him.
Michael stops and restarts the same clip of film over and over, examining every movement by the offensive line. It’s interesting, and he definitely has everyone’s attention, but all I’m really concentrating on is that Liam is probably going to be asked about his dad this weekend.
“Tess, you have the feature interview with Liam Evans. I’ll probably want to give you some specific notes on what to talk about. There will be a stat sheet printed too, so you can look through that,” Greg says to the only other woman at this table.
My eyes dart to Tess. Her pen is moving quickly across the paper in front of her. She’s very sweet and very good at her job. I really enjoy having her on the crew and think it’s about damn time they added another incredibly talented female to our team.
She nods as Greg continues to spew off some information. Her bright blonde bob bouncing as she does.
“Yeah, I can absolutely do that,” she says, referring to Greg’s question about pulling some information on Landyn Evans Sr.
Dammit, I don’t want anyone to ask him about his father. Why can’t we just let him play his game without pulling him into it? Because this is stuff fans enjoy. I can hear Greg’s voice in my head.
“We’re going to grab lunch around one thirty, Demi. Do you want to join us?” Tom taps my shoulder as he rises from his seat.
I kind of want to hang around the facility to see if I can bump into Liam so I can give him a heads-up on what’s coming this weekend. Although, he isn’t naive and something tells me he’s already anticipating this happening just based on the situation.
Grabbing lunch with my colleagues is probably a better idea than just awkwardly lurking around the building hoping I run into Liam when I know I can just see him later.
“Yeah, where are you guys going?” I ask, smiling up at Tom.