Chapter 26 #2
Roman wraps up his remarks, and Coach Hardy, a broad-shouldered man with a twinkle in his dark eyes, is given the floor.
The speech he makes echoes his star quarterback’s, mostly, and as he speaks, two things become clear: One, the man has a likeable, commanding presence.
And two, he absolutely adores Roman Maguire.
Eventually, the team owner invites Roman to hold up a Thunderbolts jersey for a photo op—a jersey imprinted with the number ten and MAGUIRE on its back.
As Roman poses with the jersey, first with the team owner, then with Coach Hardy, and then on his own, flashbulbs pop from every direction.
And when that display is done, the team owner invites questions from reporters.
To kick things off, a female reporter yells out, “Roman, is there something you’d like to say to all the Crusader fans cursing your name or feeling upset about you leaving Baltimore?”
Roman chuckles, like he couldn’t give two shits about disgruntled fans of his former team.
But what he says is, “We had a great run in Baltimore together, and I’m grateful for that.
But nothing lasts forever, and this is what’s best for me now.
” It momentarily seems he’s done answering the question.
But after a beat, he leans into the microphones and adds, “Also, specifically to any Crusaders fans cursing my name right now, I’d like to say .
. .” He looks straight into the camera. “I can’t wait to make you curse my name even more this season, when the Thunderbolts kick the Crusaders’ ass. ”
“Roman,” Coach Hardy chastises, shaking his head as the pod of reporters reacts loudly. But it’s clear from the Coach’s delighted facial expression he absolutely loves Roman’s fiery words. So does the team owner. In fact, the white-haired guy is eating them up.
As someone asks Coach Hardy a question, Darcy appears in front of me. “Please, tell me you had some good, old-fashioned, naked fun with that god of a man after your famous dinner date, Iris. If not, I’m going to sob into my pillow tonight on your behalf.”
I laugh breezily, even though I’m dying inside. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I had dinner with him and nothing more.”
“No.”
“Sorry, yes. Sadly, he was a perfect gentleman with me.”
“Damn,” Darcy grumbles. “He’s got quite the reputation for burning through women like popcorn at a horror flick.
After you were photographed with him, I looked him up, and I couldn’t believe all the gorgeous women he’s dated.
That gave me hope you’d have an extremely juicy story to tell whenever you came home for a visit. ”
As far as I’m concerned, my sex life is nobody’s damned business, not even Darcy’s. And I don’t want to subject myself—or Roman—to even more online ridicule and speculation. Roman has never addressed that photo of us at dinner, so I feel like I have free rein to invent a narrative that suits me.
“Sorry to disappoint you, Darce,” I say breezily.
“It wasn’t even a date. I happened to meet Roman that morning at the breakfast buffet at our hotel, and he recognized me from the viral video.
He sweetly pulled me aside to tell me to keep my chin up and ignore the trolls, but when he had to run off for a golf game in the middle of our conversation, he offered to take me to a nice dinner that night to finish it. ”
Darcy looks suspicious. “He asked you out to dinner at a fancy, hoity-toity restaurant for the sole purpose of finishing a conversation with you?”
I nod and plaster a smile on my face. “That’s what he said. And I guess he was being totally sincere about that, since he didn’t make a move on me, during or after our meal.”
“Not at all?”
I shake my head. “He didn’t even flirt with me.
Apparently, it was a random act of kindness.
Or maybe he was simply bored that day. Who knows?
All I know is we talked, had dinner, and that was it.
” Man, it’s scary how easily I can lie about this.
Probably because my fairy tale with Roman in Hawaii doesn’t even feel real anymore.
More like a lovely dream that never happened, except in my own mind.
“Well, damn,” Darcy grumbles. “What a bummer.”
Harper interjects, “Maybe Roman figured with Iris getting out of an engagement only a few days before, she wouldn’t be interested in jumping into bed with him.”
I tap my chin and pretend to contemplate Harper’s supposedly new theory, even though I’ve heard it before.
I’ve given this same fictitious account of the viral dinner photograph several times since coming home to Orchard Blossom—enough that Harper now knows exactly when to chime in to help me deflect from the truth even more and make my chaste version of events seem all the more believable.
“I hadn’t thought of that,” I say to Harper, even though she offered the same theory during a similar conversation yesterday afternoon at her family’s horse ranch. “But it makes sense. Either way, I certainly like that theory far more than Roman simply not finding me attractive.”
“Who wouldn’t find you attractive?” Darcy says, waving a hand in the air. “You’re beautiful. Inside and out.”
“Thank you, Darcy. I’m not sure Roman Maguire would agree with you, though.”
Speaking of Roman, his voice on the TV screen above Darcy draws our attention again.
“No, it wasn’t a hard decision for me. When someone offers you the chance to play for the best coach in the world again, you do it.
” Roman looks straight into the camera. “I’ve recently had the unfortunate opportunity to realize regret is a truly horrible emotion.
Worst of all is regretting something I didn’t do than something I did.
That’s why, whether I’m considering taking a dream job or taking a chance on a special someone, whatever it is, I’m now determined to take a risk and do the thing, even if it doesn’t ultimately work out, so I never again have to lie awake at night in bed, wondering, ‘What if?’”