Chapter 13
Quentin
Unknown number
Hey, it’s Teagan. I was wondering if we could meet the next time you’re free? I’d like to talk.
Me
Hey, I’m actually free tomorrow in the evening. My buddy’s brother owns Mezzo’s, and there’s a private room in the back. I can pick you up if you’d like?
Teagan
I’ll meet you there at six. See you then.
Teagan
and thanks for doing this.
Me
No problem. See you then.
I’m rereading our convo as I wait in the private room of Mezzo’s, the restaurant Pauly’s brother owns.
I had remembered Pauly mentioning that he takes all of his dates there for some privacy, so I asked him if he could set it up for me. A few of the guys from the team and I have also been out to eat there a few times, and the food is delicious, making it the prime location for tonight.
While he badgered the hell out of me for who I’m bringing here, I somehow was able to evade him.
“What will you have to drink tonight, sir?” the server asks.
“Just water is fine, and one for my guest too, please,” I tell him and he nods, backing away from my table and exiting through the wooden door.
I’m not sure what she likes to drink, but I figure it’s good to have some water on the table to start.
My knee bounces as I check my watch, seeing that it’s five minutes to six, which is the time we agreed upon meeting
I’m curious as to why she asked me to meet, seeing as her texts didn’t give me much information.
So, I collected some information myself.
Yeah, I googled her. Sue me.
After not knowing anything about her and having her run marathons in my mind for the last two months, I was starving for more information.
And the girl is a rock star. Olympic world champion, a decorated athlete with the medals to prove it. I have to admit, it’s alluring as hell. Not because she’s well-known, but because of what it says about her character.
Only athletes who are motivated, loyal, and passionate achieve the kinds of things she has.
I also saw that she retired recently. I tried to dig into that more, but all I found was a meet that went poorly. I thought it was weird since she seemed to be in her prime, but maybe she realized it was her time.
I’ll admit, I was hesitant to give her my number after she rejected and lied to me. While I knew what I was getting into that night, being a one-night stand, it still hurt to put myself out there and to be turned down like that.
But there was something vulnerable in her eyes that tugged at my guarded heart that made me want to hear her out. I figured maybe she wants to apologize for what happened or something along those lines.
“Sir, your guest has arrived,” the server informs me, moving aside as he gestures toward the door.
Teagan walks through the door a moment later, and my mouth nearly salivates at the sight of her. Dark hair in waves, a simple black long-sleeved dress that flows at her waist and reaches her mid-thigh, with boots that go up to her knees.
This. This is another reason why I said yes, because Lord knows I can’t get her off my mind and I’m beginning to think there’s a reason we met each other.
The clack of heels on the wooden floor snaps me out of my haze and I stand, holding my hand out for her to shake. “Hi, Teagan.” I don’t know where we stand after she rejected me at the bar and a hug feels too personal.
The sound of the wooden door closing fills the quiet moment between my greeting and her lack thereof, until she snorts.
It surprises me, making me tilt my head in question.
“You’ve had your mouth on my nipples and you’re holding out your hand like we’re having a business meeting?”
Heat creeps up my spine at her words, my mouth going slack. It takes everything in me not to get fully hard, nor for my eyes to fall out of my head because holy fuck.
“Fair point,” is all I can muster to say as I move to pull her chair out.
She takes a seat, turning to give me a small smile as she says, “Thanks.”
As I take my seat across from her, I ask, “Did you find somewhere close to park? Sometimes it can be hectic finding a spot downtown.”
“I actually found a spot in the lot across the street as someone was pulling out when I pulled into the lot,” she explains.
There’s a beat of silence, and wanting to begin the conversation, I say, “So…”
“I want to start off by apologizing for lying about my job,” she says at the same time.
I gesture for her to continue because she’s the one who wanted to talk.
“But as someone who is also a professional athlete, I think you can probably understand why I did. I never thought I’d see you again, so I didn’t think it would matter.”
Putting my own issues with trust and honesty aside, I reply, “I get it. Sorry if I came off rude the other day. It was…just a surprise to see you and I didn’t react in the best way.”
“Your apology is appreciated, but not needed. Truth be told, I would’ve told myself to fuck off when I asked to see you.” She snickers at the end, making my lips tilt in a crooked smile.
“Sometimes no-namers can turn out to be good guys.”
“The jury’s still out on that,” she teases as she picks up her menu and I follow suit.
We take a few minutes to look it over, and as if on cue, the server comes back to take our orders as he places glasses of water in front of Teagan and me.
We both place an order for the ravioli, and once the waiter exits the room, Teagan narrows her eyes at me.
“I didn’t take you for a copycat.”
I smirk at that as I relax at the ease with which we’re getting along. “I’m not. It’s my favorite dish here. So technically, you’d be the copycat.”
She rolls her eyes at me, but I don’t miss how she fights to hold in a smile. “So you’re the ace pitcher, huh?”
“I see someone’s been on Google.”
“As if you didn’t google me the second Olivia went to bed last night,” she throws back at me with a knowing look.
“Maybe.” I shrug as I reach for my water. “You’re insanely talented.”
Her cheeks redden just the slightest and she dips her chin. “Thank you. I guess you’re not too bad yourself. Even if your teammates can throw you around with too much ease.”
“You’re never going to let that go, are you?” I shake my head as a smile breaks free on my face.
“Nope,” she says with a popping sound. “So, Olivia is your niece?” She changes the subject, probably not wanting to reminisce on that night since it ended with her rejecting me.
“Yeah, she’s my sister’s daughter. I assume you’ve met either Camille or her husband, Ryker, at pick-up before.”
“I have, and they both seem very nice. Do you have more siblings?”
I’m slightly confused by her question. She’s the one who told me that night that she didn’t have time for this, but I answer her question nonetheless. I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
“We have three brothers. Simon and Antoine are older than me, while Matheo is two years younger than me. Camille’s the youngest.”
“Wow, you have a big family. Do they all live in Michigan?” she asks as the complimentary focaccia and dipping oils are delivered to the table, and she immediately grabs a piece of the bread.
“No, it’s just Camille and me here. The rest of my family lives back home in Lorsica. My family sort of runs the country, but Camille and I moved here to pursue our own dreams. I don’t see the rest of my family often except for my younger brother Matheo on occasion.”
Talking to her is easy so far, and I find myself wanting to tell her these things.
My family history isn’t a secret. The media in America just doesn’t care anymore about a guy who left his small island where the royal’s powers don’t extend beyond its borders, but it feels good to share nonetheless.
“Wait a second. Are you like…a runaway prince?” she asks, sounding baffled.
“I’m not technically on the run. They know where I am. Besides, it’s not like I have any affiliation with the royal family anymore,” I explain as I reach for a piece of bread, dip it into the oil, and take a bite. “They disowned me the moment I left the island.”
“Wow, and I thought my family was complicated,” she blows out a breath just before taking her last bite of bread.
“What about your family? Might make me feel better about how complicated mine is,” I say, my tone light as I try to keep up with the easygoing vibe we have going on.
Teagan shifts in her seat and clears her throat.
“My dad ran away when he found out about me and my mom went off traveling the world. I think I’ve seen her a total of five times since I was seven.
My grandparents raised me and my brother, but they passed away three years ago.
So now it’s just me and him and well, you actually know him,” she says casually, as if the revelation is completely normal.
Before I get to ask how I would know her brother, our waiter returns with our dishes. While he places our plates in front of us, I rattle my brain to figure out who the hell her brother is.
I can’t think of anyone I know with her last name. Besides, I spend most of my time with the team, so I would have made a connection after looking her up.
“Who’s your brother?” I ask when the waiter leaves the room.
She’s taking a bite of her food, and when she swallows, she nervously glances up at me and says, “Ian Kelly.”
My fork slips between my fingers, the clattering sound as it hits my plate ringing in my ears.
Ian Kelly is her brother.
The guy on my team who I can’t stand. The guy vying for my spot.
The guy whose sister is pregnant.