Chapter 50
FIFTY
jade
New York again.
The city is just as exciting and overwhelming as it was back in December, and only slightly harder to navigate with two overstuffed suitcases than it was back then, when I traveled with a simple overnight bag.
Instead of strands of golden Christmas lights decorating the streets, the trees are heavy with clusters of pink and white flowers showing off their late-spring color.
“You sure you can manage these on your own?” Reeve asks, easily hauling my suitcases out of the trunk of the taxi in front of our hotel. “It’s not too late for me to get a plane ticket and make the trip with you. You know, help you settle in.”
“Don’t tempt me.”
“I’ll do it.”
“I have to cut the cord sooner or later. You come with me to Spain and I might never let you leave.”
“No need to humor me.” He smiles at me, pride shining in his eyes. “I’ve known since day one you’re a fearless, badass babe.”
“I was never fearless, just an outstanding actress.” I take a deep breath and look up at the towering facade of our hotel, stop one of the long journey in front of me.
“I’m really scared,” I say. “Like ninety-eight percent scared. I haven’t seen that kind of percentage since I fell out of my dad’s fishing boat when I was six. ”
“Going to a new country all alone and you’re scared? Good. Now I know you’re not completely batshit.”
“Just don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation to uphold.”
In line at the front desk, I take Reeve’s hand and lean against his solid body, savoring the scent of his skin.
In two days I’ll be on a plane for Spain, and it’ll be weeks before I touch him again.
I was accepted into one of the programs I applied for, but didn’t qualify for any scholarships, which meant I couldn’t afford it—unless I accepted Reeve’s offer to cover the expenses, which I won’t do.
That made it easy for me to do what I really wanted to do: forget about a multiyear move abroad and instead plan my future here in the States with my boyfriend.
But since I hate to look like a quitter, and because I probably took a few years off Mark’s life through the process, I’ve settled on a twelve-week program in Barcelona.
If I love it, I can always do a longer program in the future.
And if art history is a snooze and I miss Reeve too much—I’m betting on this option—it’s only one summer of my life.
While I’m studying in Spain all summer, Reeve will be busy getting set up in an apartment and starting training camp with his new team.
I look up at him and feel a massive swell of pride.
He thinks I don’t care about football, and he’s right, but proud doesn’t begin to describe how I felt seeing him drafted number seven overall by New York.
What he’s done with his talents and the few opportunities that came his way early in life will never stop impressing me.
The last few months have been total bliss .
. . interrupted by days and nights of total despair.
There have been arguments and tears and nights I lie awake in bed paralyzed by worry over all the things that could tear us apart.
But we don’t keep our feelings secret anymore, and with everything out in the open between us, we never have to doubt that we want the same thing: to be together.
After lunch at the pizza place two doors down from our hotel, we cross the river into Jersey to look at apartments.
The realtor, who came recommended by Reeve’s agent, seems slightly put out by our request to tour listings in both Reeve’s price range and mine, but we’re taking it slow and getting separate places.
She doesn’t like me or my pink hair or my unemployed status, but she certainly likes Reeve, and judging by the way she lays her fingers on his arm as he takes in the sweeping views in his potential new home and watches him when she thinks neither of us are looking, it’s not just because she knows how much money he stands to make this year.
None of this bothers me much anymore, or maybe it does, but I’ve accepted it’s a small price to pay to call someone like Reeve mine. When you fall in love with the most charming, funny, and gorgeous man alive, you can hardly blame the rest of the world for falling in love with him too.
That night we have reservations at some ridiculously lavish three-star Michelin rooftop restaurant that Reeve’s agent promised would make for a perfect New York send-off.
Last weekend, Lenni helped me shop for a dress worthy of the occasion, and we found it, a silver, high-cut gown with an open back that made me feel completely worthy of dating someone as handsome as Reeve.
I blow out and curl my hair, slip into the dress, and fasten the jewelry that I hope doesn’t appear as cheap as it is.
Reeve puts on a suit that makes him look like a movie star and makes me swoon.
The restaurant is only a block away, but thirty seconds into our walk, my four-inch stilettos that cling to my feet with only the narrowest of straps remind me how long a New York City block can be.
Despite my efforts to hide the discomfort, Reeve stops and looks critically at my feet.
“I didn’t think about your shoes,” he says.
“I’m fine,” I insist. “Let’s keep walking. I’m guessing this place doesn’t have much of a grace period for late arrivals.”
“C’mere.” Reeve moves for me, and before I know it, he’s swept me up into his arms.
“Reeve!” I laugh as he proceeds down the street, carrying me bridal-style and looking rather proud of his sparkly silver cargo. “I can handle it.”
“So can I. Besides, I need to practice for when you’re a feeble old lady who needs to be carried from room to room.”
“Oh, and you’ll be doing the carrying? I suppose in sixty years you’ll be as ripped and youthful as you are today?”
“Naturally.”
I wrap my arms around his neck and settle into his embrace as he flashes his cocky, handsome smile. Maybe my stilettos and I could handle the walk, but I don’t want to. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than in Reeve’s arms.
As we turn down a narrow street, Reeve nods toward a black awning, Somerset Grill printed in faded red letters.
“Talk about fate,” he says, stopping in front of the building.
I peer through the window, past the neon signs advertising beer and pizza. It’s all battered wooden tables and booths that look sticky even from here. “Looks like something we could afford.”
“We should check it out after dinner.”
“I don’t know about that. Our Somerset is where it all started for us. What if we walk into this Somerset and, I don’t know, get sucked into some alternate universe?”
He nods, playing along. “Yeah, that’d be weird. Like a universe where you’re really sweet and obedient? That might be the end of us.”
“Or a universe where you’re humble? Where you can pass a mirror without stopping to stare for ten minutes?”
“And then you wouldn’t be in love with me.” Reeve grins. “That’s not a world I could live in. Maybe we should walk on by before we get sucked into its sick, twisted force field.”
As he continues down the street, I turn into him and breathe him in. Nothing makes me feel as sure as the scent of him does. “You know what? I’m not scared of that place. Hate to be the one to break it to you, but I’d track you down even in some sick, twisted universe.”
“Well, yeah, but would you love me?”
“Forever.”
“Even in a universe where I was modest and couldn’t throw a football for shit?”
“Even there.”
“Even in a universe where we live forever and you have to sit around and listen to my same jokes century after century?”
“Then I’d love you forever. Just like in this universe.”