Chapter 2 Lilly
TWO
LILLY
I close the door to my new apartment, letting out a strangled breath. Body shaking, I slide back against the door, unsteady on my feet. I press a palm to my chest to soothe the erratic beat of my heart. Na?ve of me to think I’d never see him again.
I have done my best to avoid seeing Ian again, at least not in the flesh. But his not recognizing me tore open the wound that has never truly healed.
I kept our night together as one of my most treasured memories. I am where I am because of him and what transpired between us that night. Ian made me feel adventurous, as if I could achieve anything. This virtual stranger instilled in me more self-confidence than I ever thought possible.
The day after we met, I wanted to wait for him and tell him I was there only for the weekend because my best friend had surprised her boyfriend, who was studying in Seattle. But then I saw Ian on television. He was a college football player, and I couldn’t go there.
I regretted my rash decision, but I promised myself I would never date a football player.
My father was a football player and is now the head coach of one of the most successful teams in the NFL, the San Diego Sharks.
Growing up, my father was often away, and my parents’ divorce affected me greatly.
When he made me promise never to date one of his players, I quickly accepted.
Our night together was incredible, but as soon as Ian left, doubts crawled into my mind, spinning their poisonous web. I had just come out of a relationship that did more harm than good. The timing was just all wrong.
I was twenty-one and terrified of how he made me feel: tipsy, dazed, enchanted. Something I never felt before.
Anger shadows that beautiful memory now.
I push myself off the door, steeling my spine.
This is not me. I refuse to let his action hurt me.
He doesn’t even remember me. Maybe it’s his thing—charming girls with his perfect body and chiseled face, saying all the right things to get what he wants from them.
Whatever. I wanted everything that transpired between us just as much.
It should feel like a win, but melancholy subdues me.
I pull myself together and take in my small one-bedroom apartment.
Pride engulfs me. This will be the first time I live alone.
Maybe it’s not much, but it’s mine. The small kitchen is located on the right side; my juicer sits proudly on the counter.
On the left is the living room. A comfy, overstuffed sofa, a green rug, wood and glass tables, and a few plants create a homey ambiance.
My first apartment brings me great content. Two years ago, I took a risk and opened a juice bar, LuKo Juice, with my best friend, Kat.
I am not where I want to be yet, but we have a steady client base and growing profits. Our success is what allows me to rent this apartment after living with Kat and Theo for the past several years, and keeping our small business, which employs five people, going.
Moving to the bedroom, a queen-sized bed occupies most of the space.
My gaze falls on the three pictures displayed on the dresser, and a nostalgic smile curls the corners of my mouth.
My parents and me when I was a child. Another is me with them when I graduated from college, and the third one is of my best friend and me when we opened our shop.
I unpack the rest of my things, but my thoughts keep wandering back to Ian.
He’s my neighbor. I’m going to see him again, as if it’s not enough having to hear my father talk about him every time we have dinner.
For the last few years, I have watched every Super Bowl game with maddening what-ifs messing with my head.
The guy is a living legend, and he’s still so young.
Of course, he forgot about me. He must have a string of women going in and out of his bed. I was just one of many, not worth remembering.
Folding my clothes roughly, I shove them into my dresser.
Done unpacking, I go to the kitchen and prepare a ham and cheese sandwich. Propping my hip against the counter, I stare out the small window, lost in thought.
My phone rings, and I startle, my half-eaten sandwich dropping from my hand and flopping onto the floor, leaving a mayonnaise stain on the tile. Wiping at it quickly with some paper towels, I accept the video call from Kat.
“All set up? I miss you. It’s not the same here without you,” she sighs.
The two of us have been best friends since kindergarten. We’ve been inseparable, but this step was necessary for both of us to gain independence.
“It’s going to be the first night I won’t hear you two going at it,” I say, trying to infuse some levity.
“You’ll miss it. You have lived vicariously through us.” My best friend is unapologetic, and I love her for that.
I giggle. “Shut up already.”
Her face contorts into a pout. “Fingers crossed you find someone to clean out the spider webs that must have gathered between your thighs.”
“Oh my god. It’s not that bad,” I groan.
She lifts an eyebrow. “Right. What you’re doing to your poor veejay goes against human rights.”
“I saw him,” I whisper, but she hears me.
Her eyes widen, looking behind me as if he’ll pop up there. “Where?”
“Why are you whispering?” I ask, whispering back.
“I don’t know. You’re freaking me out.”
“He’s my neighbor.”
Her jaw drops. “No freaking way. Like that’s destiny. Totally.”
I rest my cheek in my palm, sighing. “He didn’t recognize me.”
“Shut the fuck up,” she screeches.
I swear no one has a penchant for drama like Kat does.
I nod, shame swallowing my words.
“That can’t be.” Her brows bunch together. “After what you told me, that guy was into you just as much. Maybe he’s mad at you.”
“No, we’re not going there.” It’s too painful to open the door to my one and only regret.
She shrugs. “What if he did stop by the next day, only to find you gone and a note? At least you could have given him your number.”
I pin her with a look. “You know why I didn’t.”
She grimaces. “You should reconsider the whole not-dating-athletes thing. He is the only guy who made you feel something. As if you believe you’re defective or something. Maybe all those apparently nice guys on paper are not nice and your type at all.”
A heavy weight sits on my chest. “It doesn’t matter. It changes nothing.”
“It could be. Think about it. Love you bunches.”
“Love you too. See you tomorrow.”
We hang up, and my eyes fix on the fruit basket. An orange threatens to spill over and take all the others with it. Wouldn’t be the first time an orange disrupts my life.
Ian is so close, and if that won’t put me to the test, I don’t know what will.
No. I am stronger than temptation. It was a one-night stand.
It doesn’t matter that he was my only one.
It doesn’t even matter that my one relationship after him didn’t work out because I was seeking the same connection.
For a one-night stand, it screwed up my personal life like nothing else.
Pouring myself a glass of wine, I try to unwind, getting comfortable on the couch.
Turning on the TV, a dry laugh escapes my lips. He’s everywhere on the sports channels. Quickly changing to Netflix, I scroll through the endless movie selections when my dad calls.
I pick up, relieved to stop pretending I’m not affected by Ian. Nothing like your father being his head coach to remind you of the impossibility of the two of you.
“How’s my only child doing?” he asks in his soothing baritone voice.
I giggle. “Still alive.”
“Smart ass. Are you all set up?”
My dad came along with me while I looked at apartments, and we both liked this one the most. I wish I’d known in advance who lived on this floor as well.
“I want the guys to drink your juice blends. It has been doing wonders for me. Can you bring some samples to practice sometime this week?”
“Of course, Dad.”
“You didn’t want my financial support, but I always believed in you. You’re going to do great things. I just know it.” Conviction laces every word.
Hearing my father’s support makes me emotional.
Fears are only in our minds. Fear of disappointing your loved ones. Of others’ opinions. Of failure. But if we don’t risk failure, how can we learn? Safety is nonexistent.
With the promise to see each other soon, we end the call.
I press play on the remote without even caring what movie it is. Halfway in, I give up pretending to follow the plot, so I shut the TV off and move to my bedroom, changing for bed.
Closing my eyes, I fall into a restless slumber with images and thoughts of Ian chasing any trace of sleep away. Not good. So not good.
I roll out of bed with the fading image of two dark blue eyes. Ian’s eyes are like two pools of mystery, swallowing me whole. Why are blue eyes so damn pretty?
Huffing, I change into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.
I let my hair fall down my back, but slide a scrunchie on my wrist, knowing that at some point I’ll pull it up. Slipping into my sneakers, I grab my bag and lock the door behind me.
I love early mornings as most people are still asleep or just getting ready for the day. It’s a few moments of peacefulness before the day’s chaos begins.
My peace and quiet vanish when his door opens, and I come to an abrupt stop, not knowing how to act.
I must have done something wrong for karma to come at me full force.
Why did I have to end up on his floor? This building is freaking huge.
It was one reason I moved here, for the anonymity, only to end up living next door to an NFL star. Oh, the irony.
Ian stiffens. Eyes narrowing, a muscle in his jaw tics.
Regardless, he looks mouthwatering. Jeans mold to his thick thighs.
The T-shirt does little to hide his well-muscled frame, hugging his broad shoulders and trimmed waist. There’s nothing casual about the drool gathering in my mouth at the sight of him, though.