Chapter 16
Lila
Ijuggled the iced coffee and decaf tea as I rang Samantha’s doorbell. The door swung open to reveal Eric’s disheveled face.
“She’s been waiting for you,” he said, ushering me inside. “I think she’s going stir-crazy.”
Samantha’s living room looked like a snack aisle lost a fight with a laundry basket. Discarded clothes, crumpled wrappers, and half-read magazines littered every surface. I picked my way through it, careful not to kick anything that looked remotely important.
She was propped up on the couch beside a sad box of saltines, her curly hair piled into a bun that had gone full bird’s nest. A polka-dotted maternity dress clung to her belly like it had given up trying to negotiate with gravity.
“Lila, you’re a goddess,” she said, perking up the second she saw me.
“Well, I do try.” I handed her the tea. “Decaf English Breakfast for you, iced coffee for me. Any developments on the baby front?”
She rolled her eyes and gestured at the living room carnage. “If you count me losing my mind as a development.”
I laughed and sank into the armchair across from her, smoothing my linen skirt and mentally bracing to go over a million project details. “I brought the design proposals for the Hendersons’ beach house. Thought we should start with—”
“Uh-uh. No work talk right now,” she cut in, waving a hand. “I want to hear all the juicy details about your weekend with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Sexy. Spill the tea, girl.”
I pulled my planner from my embroidered tote. “Well, the Coastal Living shoot is really—”
“Lila!” She jabbed her straw at me, splashing tea onto her crossword. “Start talking or I’ll make you reorganize the fabric sample closet. How many times did Canada’s finest make you forget your own name this weekend?”
A laugh burst out of me, sharp and fizzy. “Friday night was... humid.”
She groaned, rattling the ice in her cup. “Girl, this isn’t the weather channel.”
“Okay, fine.” I caved faster than I’d planned. I wanted to relive it, frame by delicious frame. “We met up at that new nightclub, Club Azul,” I began. “It was... something.”
“Something?” she pressed, eyes gleaming. “Do tell.”
“We danced, and I swear I nearly melted into a puddle right there on the floor. The way he moved.” I fanned myself. “It should be illegal.”
“And?” She leaned forward, completely hooked. “Don’t leave me hanging. Did you seal the deal?”
I twirled a strand of hair, dragging it out just long enough to make her squirm. “At the end of the night, he tried to get away with a chaste little peck.”
Her eyes widened in horror. “Please tell me you handled it.”
“Oh, I did.” I smirked. “I pulled him in and laid one on him. Let’s just say it was... toe-curling. I showed him how we handle goodnight kisses south of the Mason-Dixon line.”
“Yes!” Samantha’s gasp turned into a full-on squeal, and for a second, I worried about her blood pressure. “Details! Tongue action? Lower back grip? Wall pin?”
“All of the above.” I pressed cold knuckles to my cheeks, the memory reigniting the burn. “I’m pretty sure my spine turned to Jell-O.”
“Stop. I’m on bed rest. Do you want me to go into labor from secondhand horniness?” she asked, pressing a hand to her chest.
I sipped my iced coffee, savoring her reaction. “Oh, I’m just getting warmed up.”
Her curiosity practically scorched the air.
“So, you know those sexy photos we had framed for his condo? The ones of Mason that Gideon had me hang as part of his practical joke?”
She nodded eagerly. “How could I ever forget those?”
I paused, keeping her in suspense for a moment. “They’re from a photo shoot Mason did for Apex Gear.”
Samantha blinked. “Shut up. Your man is a model? Damn, girl!”
I pulled my phone from my bag and swiped to the photo I’d taken yesterday. The billboard loomed over Biscayne Boulevard, six stories of Mason in nothing but slate-gray boxer briefs and a smolder that could melt polar ice caps. The Apex Gear logo blazed beside him: Rise to the Challenge.
“They’re everywhere. Every corner of the city.” I held out my phone.
Her straw slid from her lips. “Lila, my God. Mason Callahan is a famous underwear model!”
“But that’s not even the craziest part,” I teased, drawing it out like a good story deserved.
“More surprises? Are you trying to kill me?” She clutched her imaginary pearls.
I took a breath, still barely believing it myself. “Turns out, Mason Callahan is—”
From the kitchen, a voice cut in. “Mason Callahan?”
We turned to see Eric burst into the living room, half a sandwich in hand.
“Did you say the Mason Callahan?” His eyes were wild.
Sam and I exchanged a confused glance. “Uh, yes?”
“Mason Callahan? Top defenseman in hockey? Leads the league in blocked shots and bench-clearing brawls?” Eric abandoned his sandwich entirely. “But he plays for Toronto. Are you sure it’s the same guy?”
I lifted an eyebrow. “He just moved here from Canada. I decorated his condo. He said he was new to the team. The Miami Fusion.”
Eric whipped out his phone, thumbs flying. “Holy shit, I can’t believe I missed this. Duuude—look! He’s with the Miami Fusion now. Five-year contract. This is huge!”
As Eric spiraled into full-blown fanboy mode, she threw up her hands. I had to swallow my laugh. Men and their sports…
Eric collapsed onto the ottoman, grinning ear to ear. “Can you get tickets to the game? Opening night. Bench seats?”
“Over my epidural drip,” she growled. She hurled a pillow that smacked him square in the face. “I’m thirty-five weeks with two humans treating my ribs like jungle gyms, and you want to gallivant off to a bloodsport?”
I sipped my coffee, watching their bickering like a tennis match. Eric’s fanboying was almost cute, but Sam looked about two seconds away from waterboarding him with her iced tea.
Eric, at least, had the sense to look sheepish. “Right, sorry. But still, Mason Callahan!” He grinned at me. “Lila, you sure know how to pick ’em.”
“Anyway,” I said, cutting in loudly, “we spent all day Saturday together. I showed him around, and we just... clicked. I really like him, Sam. A lot. I hope this turns into something more.”
“Of course you do!” She reached out and squeezed my hand. “Who wouldn’t?”
“But—” I hesitated.
“But what?”
Eric snorted. “But nothing! You’re dating Mason freaking Callahan. Do you know how many girls would—”
“How many girls have?” I busied myself straightening the fringe on a throw blanket. “He’s literally on billboards. What would a hot, famous guy like Mason see in me?”
She made a sound like I’d personally insulted her. “Lila, are you serious? You’re gorgeous, brilliant, and insanely good at what you do.”
“He said he admired my work,” I admitted. “Maybe he just wants free design advice.”
Eric raised both hands. “And that’s my cue to exit.”
“Yes, please.” She waited until he disappeared down the hall before turning back to me. “Don’t sabotage this, Lila. You two would look gorgeous on a Christmas card.”
I laughed, but there was a catch in it. A nervous, unsettled thread pulling tight. “I just don’t want to end up... getting hurt.”
The words slipped out before I could catch them, and I hoped she’d let it pass without too much probing.
Her expression softened. She leaned forward with a quiet wince as she adjusted her position. “Oh, honey,” she said gently. “Love’s always a risk. It’s messy and scary and unpredictable. But letting someone like Mason go without even trying? That would be worse.”
“You’re right,” I said, blinking back the sting in my eyes. “Thanks for the pep talk. I’m just being ridiculous.”
“You’re not ridiculous, you’re human,” she said, giving me that look only best friends can get away with. “Now, enough of this self-doubt spiral. Tell me more about your day with Mason. I need vicarious thrills to distract me from the fact that I haven’t seen my toes in weeks.”
I laughed, grateful for the pivot. As I told her about our Miami adventures, I tried to quiet the anxiety prickling at the edges of my mind.
Mason was an underwear model and a well-known professional athlete, which meant the public eye followed him everywhere.
Being noticed was part of the job. For me, it felt like a threat.
What if the internet remembered?
What if the shame I’d buried found its way into the spotlight again?