Chapter 10
Roman
Damn.
I’m still in a daze after watching that crazy video, despite sitting here staring at the ocean for a solid fifteen minutes.
I know I’ve only known Iris for mere hours, but from what I’ve seen of her, I never would have guessed she was capable of that kind of fury.
If that groomsman hadn’t intercepted her, Iris very well might have murdered that piece-of-shit groom.
It was quite a sight to see her engulfed in proverbial flames like that—equal parts heartbreaking and impressive.
I’ve witnessed this exact same kind of duality before.
Countless times. So, I really shouldn’t be surprised.
Oftentimes, the most mild-mannered, quiet guys off the field are the craziest sons of bitches on it.
I’m guessing that wedding was Iris’s game day—her Super Bowl—and when the game was on the line, she left it all out on the field.
I can respect that. Frankly, I wish a couple slackers on the Crusaders played as hard as Iris did in that video.
If they did, I’d have a Super Bowl ring on my finger now.
My phone rings with a call from Cameron.
“Hey,” I answer with a sigh.
“Have you seen my text about the preschool teacher?”
“Yeah, I just finished watching the video a few minutes ago.”
“Why didn’t you call me, right away? Are you with her now?”
“No, I’m sitting alone on the beach after a run. I needed a minute to process.”
Cameron exhales with relief. “Stay away from her, Roman. You don’t need her viral shitstorm splashing on you right now. Not when I’m trying to negotiate your contract.”
I look out at the ocean and puff out my cheeks. “Is there really a shitstorm to splash on me, though? Iris didn’t do anything wrong. Her groom did. In fact, I was pretty impressed with Iris in that video.”
“Roman, she was unhinged. The entire internet is having a field day with her. That video is everywhere. It’s all anyone is talking about.”
“They’re coming after Iris, and not the groom?”
“The groom, too. But everyone universally agrees he’s a scumbag, so he’s not as much fun.
The lightning rod here is definitely Iris.
What she said and did in a bridal gown. In a church.
That thing she said at the end especially, about getting railed and scrambled—it’s taking off like wildfire.
” He chuckles. “Oh, and the way she had to be dragged off, kicking and screaming, too. The memes are endless and savage, man. So are the comments under the video. Did you look at them?”
“No.”
“Scroll through them. I’ll wait.”
I do as I’m told, and I’m instantly slammed with endless cruelties that make me want to commit murder, the same way Iris wanted to do in the video. Slut. Whore. Shameless. Disgraceful. Unladylike. Trashy. Unhinged. She should kill herself out of shame. She should join her mother in hell.
Jesus Christ. People are scary. Not to mention heartless. There are some comments praising Iris for her tenacity and courage. Also, for outing the groom’s bad behavior to protect future women from him. But the positive comments are few and far between among the horrible ones.
“What a fucked-up world,” I mutter. “The groom fucks anything that moves, and the world’s takeaway is that Iris is a horny, shameless slut?”
“Did Iris tell you about any of this?”
“Not a thing. She said she was supposed to come to Hawaii with a friend, but the friend backed out at the last minute.” I shake my head. “Poor thing. I hope she never finds out about that damned video.”
“She will. It’s everywhere. Which is why you need to stay the fuck away from her. She’s a pariah, Roman. I don’t want you getting sucked into the eye of her shit tornado.”
“But don’t you think if she finds out about that video, she’s gonna need some comfort and support? She’s here all alone and—”
“Roman, think with your head and not your dick. I know she’s super cute and perky and you’re over there with nothing to do. But you can fuck any other woman on that island this week. Please, don’t choose to fuck the one who puts you at risk of getting yourself swept into her viral mania.”
“Who cares?”
“The Thunderbolts might. The same kinds of people calling Iris a slut and whore and everything else buy a shit ton of football tickets and jerseys.”
“Come on, Cameron. Have a heart. Who better than me to help a newbie deal with internet bullies when I’ve been dealing with haters on the internet, nonstop, for over a decade?”
“Roman, no. No, no, no. Don’t do it. No.”
I barely know Iris, so it’s not like I owe her anything.
But the thought of cutting ties with her when I get back to the bungalow pains me—especially the thought of me doing it not of my own accord, but to save myself embarrassment on the internet.
Fuck the internet. And fuck the kind of people who’d attack Iris after seeing that video rather than cheering her on.
“Hello?” Cameron says, filling the silence.
I clear my throat. “That groom fucked around and found out, if you ask me.”
“Fucking hell, Roman.”
“What?”
“You already fucked her.” It’s a statement, not a question. Cameron knows me too well to doubt his conclusion.
“Yeah, and she’s not a frigid bitch, I can tell you that.” I snicker. “In the right hands—aka mine—that girl is a five-alarm fire.”
“Jesus, Roman. What happened to waiting on the results of the background check?”
“You took too long.” When Cameron grumbles, I add, “You saw her. She’s sexy and cute, all at once. That’s an irresistible combination.”
Cameron makes a sound of extreme exasperation. “Please, tell me you had her sign an NDA, at least.”
“She doesn’t have a clue who I am, so why bother?”
“Roman!”
I chuckle. “Even if she eventually figures out who I am, she won’t do anything with the information. She’s a preschool teacher, Cam. She’s not gonna sell her story for clicks.”
Cameron screams, “You have the audacity to assure me, with a straight face, the unhinged, loose cannon I watched going completely nuts in that video won’t do something crazy and unhinged in relation to you . . . simply because you’ve assured me that’s the case after knowing her for mere hours?”
I sigh. “If you met her, you’d understand.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
A gentle breeze wafts off the ocean, sending a welcome coolness over the sweat clinging to my skin from my run.
“Let’s not forget she only flew off the handle at the end, when that asshole provoked her.
What woman wouldn’t fly into a rage after the shit the groom said to her?
Also, how is it her father hauled off and punched the guy, but nobody’s questioning his reaction?
Nobody’s calling him unhinged and hysterical; they’re all praising him for being a good daddy. ”
Cameron exhales. “I’m every bit as impressed and sympathetic as you are, okay?
But as your agent, it’s my duty to protect you from any potential dustups while I’m working hard to get you top dollar.
Please, Roman, don’t see her again while you’re out there.
I don’t care how good the sex was, there’s no pussy in the world worth getting yourself involved in viral bullshit when I’m trying to convince the Thunderbolts your overall brand makes you worth two hundred million bucks. ”
I frown. Cameron’s made some good points.
But then again, he hasn’t met Iris. If he met her, he’d understand she’s not some kind of pariah; she’s a total sweetheart.
I look down at my toes burrowed into the white sand.
Normally, I trust Cameron’s judgment. So, why am I trying so hard to poke holes in everything he’s saying?
“She’s still in the bungalow,” I admit. “She slept there last night. She was fast asleep when I left for my run.”
“Goddammit.” Cameron grunts. “Okay, well, at least, turn that lemon into lemonade, and get her to sign an NDA before you kick her out.”
My spirit sinks at the thought. “Is there anything else you need to talk to me about?”
“You’re gonna kick her out, right?”
“I’ll decide when I get there.”
“What’s wrong with you? The sex couldn’t have been that good.”
“That’s the thing. It was.” I smirk. “It was like a portal to another dimension.” I snicker with satisfaction.
Without even knowing my specific assignment last night, I wound up doing exactly what Iris said in the video: I railed that woman and scrambled her insides like a champ—and in the process, wound up having the best sex of my life.
“Roman, listen to me. If someone posts a photo of you two together, everyone’s going to assume you’re the hot, random stranger Iris selected to ‘rail’ her.”
“I am, though. So what? I’m a single man, and she’s a hot, single woman in need of some TLC. No shame in that.”
Cameron mutters, “Your name attached to this story would skyrocket the whole thing into another stratosphere. You know your behavior off the field drastically impacts your commercial value.”
Movement in my periphery draws my attention.
It’s a man and woman holding hands with a kid around Maverick’s age.
All three are wading into the shallows of the aquamarine ocean and laughing with each passing wave.
My heart pangs at the sight of them. Enough to remind me why I’m turning my life upside down. For Maverick.
“Okay,” I say softly. “I’ll walk away from Iris.”
“Thank you.”
“I won’t kick her out of the bungalow, though. I’ll offer her the place for the week, on my dime. It’s the least I can do after what she’s been through.”
“Make her sign an NDA in exchange for the place.”
“Would you drop the NDA thing? I’m not gonna tell Iris who I am. For the first time in a long time, I got to be with a woman without having to wonder if she only wanted to be with me because I’m Roman Maguire.”
He sighs. “I’ll get a new place booked for you. Do you want to fly over to Maui, since that’s where Coach is staying?”
“No, he wants to play at some golf club here in Kauai.”
“Okay. I’ll text you the info. Thanks for listening to reason about this, Roman.”
I glance at that happy family playing in the shallow waves again. I might be listening to reason about this, but that doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.