The man likes water sports.
After buffing and shaving and scrubbing, I dry quickly and dress in a simple black dress. I twist my hair up and pin it at the back of my head, add minimal makeup and satisfied with how I look I head downstairs to eat something light before heading to the service.
As I descend the stairs, the doorbell rings.
Who the hell could that be?
I pull the door open to find a dark suit-covered Will standing on my doorstep.
God, he looks good in a suit.
It’s tailored to his tall, lean body. He’s wearing a blue dress shirt and deep blue tie with it, setting off those incredible eyes.
“Your alarm isn’t set.”
And he’s pissed.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“Your alarm isn’t set,” he repeats stubbornly and walks past me into the living room.
“Will, I’ve been home less than an hour. What are you doing here?”
He pulls me to him, wraps his arms around me and just hugs me close. “Do you really think I’d let you go alone today?”
I rest my cheek against his chest and breathe him in. He smells clean and safe. He smells like Will.
“You don’t have to go with me,” I murmur.
He pulls back and cups my face in his hands. “Yeah, babe. I do. Then you’re coming home with me.”
“Aren’t you getting sick of me yet?” I ask lightly, wrinkling my nose.
“Yes, I’m terribly sick of you. You eat too much, hog the bed, and cheat at video games. Not to mention, you require way too much sex. But, I’m muddling my way through.”
“You know, you could use some work on your people skills.”
He laughs down at me. “Haven’t you noticed, Megan? I can’t seem to get enough of you. I have to leave for Miami tomorrow, and I want you with me tonight. Is that okay?”
“Yeah, that’s okay.”
Chapter Fourteen
“How’s your day going, sweetheart?”
God, it’s good to hear his voice. I lean back in the plush desk chair behind my desk and grin.
“It’s been a pretty smooth day so far. How about you?”
“The usual. We watched some film this morning, went to the field for a while. Now we’re waiting to do some interviews and call it a day.” He sounds tired.
“I hear Miami is fun. Gonna go party it up tonight?” I ask with a smile and systematically dismantle a paperclip.
He chuckles, and I clench my thighs together. Even from three thousand miles away, his voice does things to me. He’s only been gone for roughly thirty-six hours and I’m itching to get my hands on him.
“No, we have a curfew when we’re out of town, babe. We’ll probably all just go to the hotel, order in room-service, and call it a night. I wish you were here.” The last sentence is whispered, and I clutch my phone even more tightly in my hand.
“Me too,” I murmur.
“Good. Get on a plane tonight.”
I laugh loudly. Yeah, right. “Will, that’s not possible.”
“Why not? I’ll book you something right now.”
“I work a job, remember?”
“Call out sick.”
“No.” I shake my head and laugh again. “You’ll be home tomorrow night.”
“I want to see you tonight. Fuck the distance, Meg, you should be here. I want you at the game tomorrow. In fact, take the whole week off. We have a bye-week next weekend, and Coach is giving us the week off. Let’s just go somewhere together for a few days.”
I sit in stunned silence. Is he serious? Just pick up and leave?
“Will, I have to ask for vacation time months in advance.”
I hear him sigh on the other end and feel like shit for raining on his parade.
“I want to see you too,” I tell him firmly. “But I can’t just leave town without any notice.”
“You need a vacation, Meg. You’re exhausted. We need time together.”
“I’m with you every day.” I remind him.
“I miss you.”
Damn, we have it bad.
“I miss you too, babe. I’ll call you tonight when I get off work.”
“Okay. Later.”
I hang up and rub my forehead. He’s right, I do need a vacation. Being whisked away at a moment’s notice sounds fantastic, but I’m not a rich superstar. I have a job, and a mortgage, and a crazy biological mother who seems to think I have to send her money on a regular basis.
I dig back into the charts in front of me and try to forget about a certain sexy football player and what he might be doing right now in sunny Florida.
“Can I come in?” My boss, Loretta, asks.
“Sure.”
She sits in the shabby chair opposite me and sets a manila envelope on the desk.
“How’s it going?” she asks.
“Fine, thanks. You?”
“Oh, fine,” she waves my question off, and looks at me for a long minute. “It’s been a rough week.”
“Most weeks are rough around here, Loretta,” I remind her. She nods thoughtfully.
“I saw that your football player was with you at the funeral the other day,” she mentions causally, a knowing smile on her kind face.
“Yes, he was,” I confirm. “He liked Nick.”