16. Cara
CARA
Aweek after the disastrous football game, Cara lay awake in the middle of the night, staring up at the ceiling above her bed.
Things had been going better since then.
She and Liam had settled into a pattern.
Most mornings, they would make a public appearance of some kind—most often it was just going for a walk in the park near his house, but they had also been to the beach and to a few restaurants, and most recently to the zoo.
It had gotten easier with each passing day.
At first they had struggled to speak to one another, but now the energy between the two of them was more natural.
Being out with him felt like being out with a friend.
Cara even found herself looking forward to the next day’s outings.
That wasn’t what kept her up tonight, though.
Tomorrow the two of them had plans to see a concert—a jazz musician was playing at a local bar, and Cara had decided it would be good for Liam to visit a bar in a more mature context.
It was hard to picture him getting into any scraps at a jazz lounge.
And she was looking forward to hearing the music.
Still, her mind wouldn’t settle down and let her sleep.
With a sigh, she sat up in bed and pushed off the plush comforter.
This bed was so comfortable. She’d never had any complaints about her own bed back at home, but after sleeping on these expensive sheets on this perfectly soft mattress, it was going to be hard to go back to what she was used to.
She’d manage, of course, but she had to admit she was enjoying her stay here.
And that had nothing to do with the sheets.
She opened the door to her bedroom and went out into the hall. The lights were dim, but not pitch-dark, and after a moment she figured out why—light was coming from down the hall. A door was cracked open.
The library.
She’d been in it a handful of times, though she never stayed long.
Something about that room made her feel as if she was overstepping her bounds, as if she wasn’t supposed to be there.
It felt like she was reading Liam’s diary.
Books were so personal. She hadn’t been able to stop herself from looking at what he had on the shelves, though.
It was adventure fiction, for the most part. He thought he was Robinson Crusoe.
She had never seen him in there.
She tiptoed toward the door, wondering how he would respond to seeing her. He must not be too bent on privacy, she decided, or he would have closed the door all the way. He knew she was in the house.
She nudged the door open with her toe.
Liam was standing with his back to her in front of one of the shelves. He didn’t turn around when she entered. At first, she thought maybe he hadn’t noticed her.
“You can come in,” he said.
She felt hot with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
He turned. “You aren’t disturbing me.”
He had a book in his hands. Not a regular book, but some sort of album or journal. She stepped into the room and pointed to it. “What’s that?”
“I keep my press clippings in here,” he said with a self-effacing chuckle.
“You keep your press clippings?” She stepped farther into the room. “Really?”
“That probably seems really arrogant, huh?”
“No, that’s not what I was thinking,” she said. “I was thinking…I didn’t realize you cared about things like that. It’s kind of nice to realize that you do. It makes you seem more human.”
“Oh, God. I didn’t realize that I didn’t seem human.”
“You know what I mean.” She laughed. “I just mean that you never struck me as someone who worried about what people thought about you, unless it had consequences. But this makes it seem like you noticed what people were saying even before it got you kicked off the team.”
“Well, they usually had nicer things to say about me than they have lately,” he pointed out. “But…that’s not why I keep it.”
“It’s not? Then why?”
“My mother,” he said. “She gave me this book when I was drafted to the Stingers. She was so excited, so proud of me. I told her I would buy her a house with my first-year salary, but all she wanted was a book of my clippings to put on the mantel. She told me to fill it up and bring it back to her when I had.” He sighed.
“I haven’t been able to add anything to it recently, of course. ”
“Actually, you can,” Cara told him. “I didn’t tell you yet, but I got an email just before I went to bed. There’s going to be an article on a bunch of affiliated websites tomorrow about our trip to the zoo last weekend. You didn’t tell me you had spoken to a reporter.”
“I didn’t know I had,” Liam admitted. “I talked to a guy outside the monkey cages, but he didn’t tell me who he was. I thought it was just a fan.”
“Well, you did a good job,” Cara told him. “You left him with a good impression. The article is a rave.” She grinned.
“Seriously? You’ve read it?”
“Yes, he sent over a copy to Alastair, and Alastair forwarded it to me,” Cara said.
“No one knows I’m a part of your publicity team, of course, but they know Alastair is your publicist. Apparently you told everyone you were just so in love that you forgot to be responsible when it came to your contract.
And apparently the press is eating that up. ”
“I can be taught,” Liam laughed. “I knew that was what you’d want me to say. And the truth is, it’s not that difficult a story, once you get used to telling it. I actually had a good time telling him about you.”
“You came up with a lot of convincing details,” she said. “I thought it was impressive. All that stuff about how you find me easier to talk to than anyone you’ve ever known. Did you read that in a book or something? It was incredibly convincing.”
“No,” Liam said, holding her gaze. “That part was just the truth. I do find you very easy to talk to, Cara. It was easy for me to describe it because I was just talking about what it’s like to spend time with you.”
Cara looked down at her feet to hide the thrill that shot through her at that.
She didn’t know exactly why it excited her so much.
She felt the same way about him. In spite of the fact that things had been contentious between them in the beginning, she had come to find herself really enjoying their time together.
And it was nice to know that that was mutual.
But that should feel calming. Reassuring. Not invigorating like this.
She swallowed hard. “Whatever the reason, you nailed it,” she told him. “You came up with the perfect narrative, and the reporter ate it up. And there’s more. He interviewed the assistant coach of the Colorado Lions, too.”
Liam slowly lowered the book in his hands. “What did he say?”
“Well, the reporter asked him whether there was any chance of seeing you back on the field now that it had been revealed what your true reasons for leaving were,” Cara said.
“The coaches know there’s something fishy about this,” Liam said. “I’m sure they do.”
“This one didn’t seem to,” Cara said. “He said he was sure the Stingers would reconsider their decision, because it was obvious to everyone that you were a good man who had been put in a bad position. And he also said that the Lions valued a team culture where everyone felt safe to pursue their life goals, and that he was sure the management would want to talk to you if you weren’t going to be continuing to play in Miami.
” She grinned. “It’s as good as an offer, Liam.
There’s no way they’d go on the record with a statement like that if they weren’t genuinely interested in working with you.
I’m sure you’ll be hearing from them soon. ”
“So this article really makes me look good?” Liam asked.
“It says you’re a changed man,” Cara said. “That’ll be something to add to your book, I think.”
“Maybe,” Liam said.
“Only maybe?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t know how much of this is real.”
Cara felt, briefly, as if the air had been sucked out of the room.
“I’ve been asking myself that the whole time,” she confessed.
He looked at her. “Have you?”
“It’s hard to know,” she told him. “It’s hard to know what matters and what doesn’t, because what we’re doing here—the point of all of it—is creating an image.
We want people to see you as a changed man.
The fact that the press is reporting that means that it’s working.
And that is a good thing, Liam, no matter what’s true and what isn’t. But…”
“But maybe I haven’t,” he said. “Maybe it’s all just part of the act, right?”
“Do you want it to be real?” she asked him quietly.
He looked down at the book in his hands and said nothing.
“Because I don’t think the Liam Sims I met when all this began gave a damn about what kind of man he was, or what people thought of him,” she said.
“I think you wanted to get back to the team, whatever the cost might be. I think if someone had called you a changed man then, you might have rolled your eyes at them. And now it seems like those words might actually mean something to you.”
“I don’t know,” Liam admitted. “I wouldn’t have expected them to.
I thought I was fine the way I was. But the team cast me off so easily.
And when I was talking to those retired players the other day when we were in the box, the things they said…
about how they always thought something like this would happen to me…
” He trailed off for a moment. “I don’t want to be the kind of man everyone pushes away,” he said quietly.
“I don’t want to be someone nobody wants in their life. ”
He doesn’t want to be like his father. She didn’t say the words aloud, but she knew that she was right. That was his fear. She’d seen the anxiety on his face when she had picked him up from that bar. He had recognized something when the bartender had thrown him out. This was what it was.
He wanted to be back on the football team. But he also wanted to be someone he could take pride in. And maybe this new article was giving him the ability to believe that was possible.
She crossed the room and took the book carefully from his hands, setting it aside.
“It’s real,” she told him quietly. “I’ve been living with you long enough to understand what’s true and what’s an act.
When I first men you, Liam, I could hardly stand you.
I thought you were arrogant and insufferable.
” She offered him a small smile. “And now, strange as it seems, you’re someone I might actually consider a friend. Even when all of this is over.”
As she said the word over, she felt an inexplicable pang in her heart.
And Liam’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes when he replied. “Well,” he said. “That’s a start, at least.”