Chapter 20 Ian #2
“Yes, because she’s mine.” I slap a palm on my chest, smirking. “She’s my flower girl. My dream woman. I’m going to her.” I am about to move when he palms my shoulder, keeping me planted in my seat.
“No, you will take a few days and let her miss you.”
I feel my brows furrow. “That sounds like a horrible plan.”
“If you push her, she’s just going to be entitled to thinking she’s right with the distance.”
He might have a point.
“So what should I do? If I remain here, I won’t be able to stay away.”
“I did buy a boat. Let’s make good use of it.”
With the plan set, we hop in an Uber and drive to the port.
On his sleek, curvy yacht with tinted black windows, a group of people wait, cheering.
I mumble, “I thought it was going to be just us.”
Drinking from a bottle of beer, I see some of our single teammates coming on board, women draped on their arms. Music blasts from the speakers, making it impossible to hear or be heard, but that doesn’t deter people from trying.
I am in a corner mumbling to a second woman, “Not interested.”
Marching straight to Roman, I grit out, “I’m going to search for a place to crash. And if this shit continues, I am out of here tomorrow.”
I need quiet, not a party. I thought he’d like the same for a change, but the more he suffers, the harder he parties.
In the small cabin, I wake up to a headache throbbing behind my eyes and missing Lilly. My first thought is why isn’t she in my bed, next to me, only to realize this is not my bed. I scoot upright, looking out a round window, the sea stretching over the horizon.
Last night’s events trickle back one by one, revealing the puzzle in my head.
A knock later, Roman says, “Good morning, princess. As you had to shit on my party, I sent them home and now we’re sailing down the coast.”
“You don’t need your face on another magazine.”
“Yes, about that…”
A guilty look contorts his expression as he shows me his phone. Super Bowl champions partying hard. I groan when I see him locking lips with two girls on his lap.
I shake my head at him. “Coach is going to be pissed at you.”
He clears his throat. “There’s more.”
Swiping, I see myself in pics with the two women I barely acknowledged. Fuck, the angle they’re taken, it is as if I am whispering stuff in their ears—too close and leaving the wrong impression.
“I’m going to kill you.” I shoot out of bed.
Roman takes off, taking two stairs at a time. “I’m your witness that nothing happened.”
I groan and run after him, chasing him down the deck.
He’s faster, of course, and by the time we stop, we’re both panting.
He throws his arms in the air. “I’m sorry, okay? I know that image is important. It’s just… what the fuck do I have to lose…”
I shake my head at him, groaning. “One day, you’re going to regret your bad boy of the NFL reputation. This is not the type of attention you want.”
“At least it’s attention,” he grumbles.
That’s why I can’t stay mad at him for too long. He had a crappy childhood. The girl he loved left him. What does he have to lose? And even if it’s bad attention, his account doesn’t suffer, on the contrary.
“I get it, man.”
He nods, saying, “Let me present you, my Pearl.”
As the day progresses, my mind goes to Lilly.
I’ll be away for a few days.
I hit send and stare at my phone. Usually, she answers right away after she sees it.
A few minutes later, she messages back.
Have fun.
That’s it? I glare at her reply. Fine.
Maybe she’s right and a few days separated will put things into a new perspective. The preparation for the next season will start soon, and I need a cool head.
For the next three days, we sail and fish. Of course, Roman mopes when I catch the bigger one. Just to piss him off, I make him snap a photo of me with my catch.
Time passes by too quickly and not at all, fitting the conundrum of my life.
Distance means nothing when your mind permanently focuses on a certain flower girl who doesn’t contact you.
It’s like we’re in a silent battle of wills.
And it’s proving we’re both stubborn. Nothing new on that part, but terrible for my composure.
“I should be the one mad at her. What’s her problem?” I mumble to myself when Roman finds me lounging on the sun deck. “I don’t understand her, man.”
I push my phone to the side, and he shrugs. “Maybe she saw the pics.”
I wave that thought off. “That’s nothing. She knows that. We went out often and women wanted a pic and an autograph.”
“Are you fucking stupid?” he asks me with an incredulous stare. “You left in a somewhat fight, and then she sees the pics of you on a yacht, partying.”
I gnash my teeth. “I wasn’t partying.”
“She doesn’t know that. And with two different women.”
“If that’s it, I’m going to kill you,” I say, stabbing a finger at him.
I didn’t even consider the possibility. That would explain why she’s mad. I know I would be. Fuck. I rake a hand through my hair. “We need to go back.”
“We still have another day.”
“I’m going to throw you overboard.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I stare him down. “Now, which alternative is preferable to you?”
“Fine.”
I am debating about calling her, but face-to-face, I can read her every micro-expression. I still can’t believe she’d be jealous. Lilly has no fucking reason. I don’t even perceive other women. She’s consuming every thought, pulsing in my heartbeat.
We’re not made to stay apart. She surely realized that with our brief separation. Yes, that will be it.