Chapter Six
America
“Is she ready?” Everett’s voice reaches me inside my closet where I’m picking out an outfit for tonight. I’m debating between a gold dress with ruffles that looks lush against my dark complexion and a jewel toned purple jumpsuit that happens to be a personal favorite.
“Is she ever?” Dove responds with a voice full of cheekiness.
Everett chuckles. “All the best things are worth waiting for.”
“Boy, you know all the right things to say, don’t you?” Dove’s voice grows louder as they walk toward my room. Her tone implies a hint of the eyeroll she’s most likely aiming at his broad back. “America, your date is here.”
“Just in time.” I pop my head out of the closet, a big smile plastered to my already made-up face as they enter the room.
Everett stares at me in my blush-colored lingerie. His jaw slack, he places a hand over his heart as his eyes drink in the crisscrossed lace from bra to panties and the tiny garter belt, suspenders, and stockings. Dove bounces her white ass onto my bed, looking like she’s planning to stay awhile.
I turn my attention back to the closet. “Since you’re both here, you can help me choose what to wear.”
“Yes,” Everett says, his gaze glued to me. “I could die a happy man right here and now, Lucky Charm.”
“Please don’t,” Dove says dryly, fluffing my satin pillows. “I don’t know how to get dead man out of the carpet. We won’t get back our deposit. Plus what would we tell the Cardinals’ management if their favorite player kicked the bucket instead of a goal?”
I narrow my gaze at my friend as I cross the bedroom to hug the man I’ve been dating for a few weeks now. The star soccer player walked into Beans-A-Plenty, I made him an espresso, and he decided he wanted me enough to come in every day until I said yes to dinner.
That dinner led to dinner every night, except for game nights. All of which the Cardinals have won since we met. He calls me his Lucky Charm because he says with me by his side he can’t put a foot wrong.
That’s why he wants me at this dinner meeting, even though we’ve been keeping our relationship on the downlow. So far we’ve been successful at avoiding the media. I haven’t met his teammates or their WAGS yet.
As much as he’s hinted at wanting me to watch him practice and then meet the team, he hasn’t actually asked me to show up. Which I’m grateful for since I’m not ready. I like this intimate bubble we’ve been enjoying. “A little privacy please, babe.”
“I need to go to the studio anyway.” Dove makes a face like she’d prefer to do anything else, probably because she’s been putting in insane hours on this new album. “Nathan thinks track three needs a redo.”
“Oh.” I pout. “That’s the happy, sunshine one, isn’t it? I love this version.”
“Yeah, I love it too.” Her expression is pinched.
She hasn’t been okay since we came back from our trip three months ago. There seems to be this dark cloud over her all the time.
On the other hand, there haven’t been any more bruises since we came home from Positano. No fingerprints on her flesh. None that I’ve seen at least. Just exhaustion.
She’s so tired the bags under her eyes have dark purple bags of their own. Her voice is getting more strained by the day. Nathan is literally draining the fun out of her like some kind of energy sucking vampire.
Every time I bring up how bone-weary and unhappy she seems, she tells me she’s fine. That when the album is done, she’ll be her usual self. She’s passionate about music, but the things that we’re passionate about shouldn’t be taking this kind of toll.
When I asked why she keeps letting Nathan boss her around like he does, she told me he knows what he’s doing and that he’s pushing her to make the best album she can. It’s what she wants, so I should leave it alone.
I don’t know that much about music production beyond what I’ve learned living with her. But it seems like there’s something more to it given the way she stares off into space sometimes. Like that trip to Positano caused more trouble than it was worth.
That weekend left an indelible mark on my soul too. I don’t know if it was more painful to love Gray without hope, or to still have these emotions and a whole lotta regret too. I swallow the bitterness back.
“You are so beautiful.” Everett kisses my cheek. His lips caress the spot where my neck and shoulder meet while his hands smooth over my ass and bring me closer. “Sexy.”
“And on that note, I am so out.” Dove turns tail and leaves us to it.
“Kinda wishing I could cancel this dinner. Order some takeout and spend all evening in your bed,” Everett says, chasing away any thoughts besides how nice that would be.
“That sounds like heaven.” I take his jaw between my hands and bring his focus to my face. “But you made this meeting sound important.”
He groans and his grip on my ass slackens. “It could be. It could unlock a lot of opportunities that I haven’t had access to. There’s the possibility of a move stateside. I know you’re considering going home at some point.”
“Perhaps.” I smooth my hands over his shirt, his chest hard under the material. I’m not comfortable with him taking me into consideration when making such a monumental choice. “It’s too soon to be planning your future around us, isn’t it? We’re just having fun.”
“We’re good together, aren’t we? You like me, right?”
“I do, but—”
“I adore you, Lucky Charm.” He hugs me to his chest.
“But what if it doesn’t work out? I’m not a relationship type of girl.” I gave away my heart too young. To a man who could never want it. And every relationship since has been a disaster.
I’m even more wary since the mess with my professor. I told Everett that when he first asked me out. I don’t know if I will—if I can—ever fall in love again, but with Everett it at least feels like a possibility. “Please don’t plan a move because you think it’ll make me happy. What we have is far too new for that.”
“All right. I won’t plan my eventual move to the States around you.” He stares into my eyes. “How about I make it based on the fact that every year the UK brings in more foreign players and discards UK players, while America is recruiting UK talent and paying us well to play? Or that it would be cool to live in the US for a while.”
“That makes sense.”
“And because the girl I’m casually having fun with right now will eventually fall for me. And I know that she’s homesick. At some point you’re going to move home. I might as well be prepared.” He grins boyishly. It’s charming and a little cocky, like to him we’re a done deal.
“Everett.” I scowl. Even though it’s somewhat true. I do miss my family. But this is exactly what I don’t want him to do.
Taking my face between both hands, he turns solemn. “Trust me. I get it. I promise, I’ve been thinking about a move for some time now.”
“Okay.” I’m not there yet with ‘us.’ I don’t know what my future looks like. I don’t know what I’m going to do career wise. I haven’t been able to bring myself to tell my parents that I’m no longer attending classes. They’ll probably disown me. But I do know I need to stop thinking about a man who wouldn’t date me if I was the last girl in the world, when I have one who is already imagining me as part of his future. “Help me pick out what to wear?”
He takes my hand and draws me back into the closet. “Show me my options.”
“This gold one.” I hold up the lush ruffles and then the purple jumpsuit. “Or this one.”
He wets his lips and reaches for the gold one. “This one. I like the idea of being able to slide my hand up your bare thigh in the car.”
His words spread like warmth through my belly.
“The gold it is.” I peel the dress from the hanger and slide it on over my head, shimmying it down around my curves.
As Everett zips me up my phone chirps from where I carelessly tossed it on the bed when I first came in. It’s probably Indy. We text back and forth all day, every day. Sometimes she messages me in the middle of her night, depending on whether Theo is working a late shift at the club. Today he must be on an early shift.
I pick out cute gold heels and a nice warm coat for the drive to the restaurant. Draping the coat over my arm, I open up my favorite clutch to add my phone and cards. I check my messages while I’m doing that. The text from Indy is a photo of her and Theo at the bar and is captioned… wish you were here .
I text her back.
America: I wish I was there too.
So much.
I miss my friend. And Theo has grown on me. He’s a good guy. He makes her incredibly happy. I miss my parents. And my aunt and uncle and EJ.
The second message is from Gray.
I miss him too. So much so that my heart skips a beat and my stomach bottoms out as I stare at the notification. But I’m unable to bring myself to open it so I can read the whole thing. What he and EJ said that morning in Positano still stings too much.
I would never have crossed his mind if he hadn’t wanted to get back at my best friend. Asshole. I swipe away the notification.
He wasn’t the only asshole that night. I screwed my best friend’s ex when I know she still cares deeply for him. She might have moved on, but that doesn’t make what I did any less wrong.
I put my phone in my bag and pop in my Calmer earbuds. I thought he would get the message that we’re not friends when I didn’t respond to any of his previous texts, so why is he messaging me again?
“Are you ready?” Everett is waiting for me.
“Yes.” I snap my clutch shut and allow him to help me with my coat. “What restaurant are we going to?”
“Bambino’s,” he says as I close the flat door.
Bambino’s is as posh and elegant as expected, filled with lots of crystal and glass and people in far more expensive dresses and suits than my gold dress from the high street stores. I check my coat before we’re ushered through the candle glow and quiet chatter.
“Lucky Charm, I hope you’re ready to work your magic,” Everett says over his shoulder while he squeezes my hand. “If this guy is half as good as he says he is, the stratosphere is the limit for us.”
The restaurant manager steps to the side so that I can take my chair as the man Everett is meeting rises to his feet.
My heart stops for a moment as Gray’s eyes lock on mine from across the table. Then it starts booming in my ears. I think he says my name, but I can’t be certain over the din of cutlery against plates and the clinking of wine glasses and the memory of him telling EJ that he could never date me. I was only a moment in which he got to forget that the love of his life broke his heart. I thought it would be enough…
His gaze moves to Everett, as Everett eagerly lunges forward to shake his hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you in person. This is my girlfriend, America.”
We’ve never had that conversation. It’s too soon for labels, though I like him more than anyone else I’ve ever dated. I certainly like him more than the man whose hand he’s currently pumping. But girlfriend? Girlfriend! I thought I was clear that I’m not ready to commit to something serious.
Gray’s questioning gaze crashes back to mine. He raises a brow. “Is that so?”
“Isn’t she beautiful?” Everett warms up to the subject of me, a big grin breaking on his face.
I want to roll my eyes; his comment making me feel like some kind of trophy. But Gray’s expression becomes more pinched, and I don’t hate that.
“Wicked smart too.” Everett continues to extoll my virtues.
“He knows,” I say at the same time Gray says, “I know.”
Everett frowns, finally reading the room. “You two know each other?”
“We’re friends,” Gray says.
“He’s my best friend’s ex,” I say at the same time, sounding a teensy bit bitter.
Everett’s grin falls. He wraps his hands around my upper arms and uses his wide back to shield me from Gray so that he can ask, “Is this going to be a problem?”
I study the gorgeous man in front of me, his usually happy-go-lucky expression suddenly far too serious for me to be comfortable. He thinks I’m upset about Gray and Indy’s break up, and I let him believe that. He called me his girlfriend, but I'm not sure I’m ready to be. I’m also not ready to tell him that I was in love with Gray for years and years.
I glance at Gray around Everett’s shoulder. He was the best agent at his company back home. He’s good at what he does. And he doesn’t seem to have noticed that I wouldn’t mind stabbing him with one of the many forks on the table.
If he’s back in the game, he’s exactly who Everett should sign with. I can’t let my personal problems get in the way of that, especially when I don’t know if what Everett and I have will last the distance. “No. He’s the best. You want him on your team.”
“All right. Let’s sit down and hear him out then, yeah?”
I take a deep cleansing breath. I won’t ruin this for Everett. “Yes.”
He pulls a chair out for me to sit.
“You look good, America,” Gray says as Everett takes a seat next to me. “What has it been since the last time we caught up? Four months?”
“Three.” I narrow my gaze. Surely, he knows.
“Damn. I should have realized that.” He stares me down. “I promised I’d be a better friend, didn’t I? But I’ve been so busy I haven’t had a chance to keep up with everyone. I swear EJ is going to kill me if I don’t message him back soon.”
“Sounds like EJ.” We are so not talking about EJ. He’s reminding me of all the text messages he sent that I haven’t responded to. I turn to Everett who is watching the bouncing ball between us with questions burning in his eyes. “EJ is my cousin and Gray’s best friend. We’re all a bit close knit.”
“Some would say as close as family,” Gray says.
“Well, I’m glad to have met someone America classifies as family.” Everett places his hand on my knee.
“Shall we get down to business?” I straighten the cutlery.
“We can put that on the backburner if you two want to catch up instead,” Everett says.
“Trust me, that’s not necessary.” I lean over and kiss his cheek and Gray’s eyes darken with his scowl. “We’re here to talk about you. Which you know is my favorite subject.”
“You’re twisting my arm.” Everett chuckles before turning to Gray. “Talk to me, Grayson Ford. Tell me what you’re going to do for me.”
They talk in detail about what Gray can do for Everett. From sponsorships to helping him land a spot on a team in the States. I sit there like a good WAG, growing more irritated every time Gray’s focus drifts to me. Each time it does, he seems to get more agitated too.
“There are plenty of teams looking to bring in international talent,” Gray tells Everett while I prod the perfectly cooked piece of salmon on my plate. “Something wrong with the fish?”
“Nope.” Only the way he keeps staring at me like he wants to say something, when he said everything there was to say to EJ that morning. Then he makes a dig at me because I choose to ignore his texts? The nerve.
“Are you sure?” Everett asks. “I can order you something else.”
Gray raises his hand and gestures to the waiter. “Can you bring us a menu? The fish is subpar. We’d like to order something else.”
“It’s not the fish,” I say, trying so hard not to give away how angry and upset I really am while Gray acts like he has no clue.
“The salad then?” Gray says.
“It’s not the food.”
“Then what’s wrong?” Everett asks at the same time Gray says, “Then what is it?”
“If you’ll excuse me.” I rise, pushing my chair back and picking up my clutch. I bend to kiss Everett’s cheek. “I’ll be right back.”
I cannot walk away from the table, and Gray, fast enough. The bathroom is empty when I enter, and I take a few breaths while I wash my hands.
I don’t know what I expected seeing him again would be like, but I did think he would be less concerned with my lack of communication. More aloof. I figured I would be able to handle it better than this.
The door crashes inward and Gray stalks into the bathroom. “What the hell, America?”