“Are you staying here tonight?”
Jill looked conflicted, her gaze steady on the floor. “Do you want me to after what just happened?”
Maxwell wanted to talk things out—that was what he really wanted. He also wanted to beg her to stay the night in his arms. But only if she wanted it too. There was too much to delve into, and he didn’t know where to begin.
“It’s up to you.”
She sighed. “I’ll just head home. I’ll see you Wednesday morning, okay?”
She took off for the stairs before he could say or do anything, much less get a hug in edgewise. Wednesday morning meant she wouldn’t be stopping by after work on Tuesday…which was technically fine. It had been their original agreement. It just hadn’t been their routine over the last couple of months.
And it stung. It stung way more than he wanted it to.
Maxwell went into his bedroom, facing another confused night by himself wondering what the hell had gone wrong?
17
Jill took some time to think about things before launching a conversation with Maxwell.
Because one thing was clear: if she was going to launch any conversation with Maxwell, it needed to be the conversation.
The conversation where she bared her soul. Confessed her demons. Told him about her past and all the ghosts that still lurked within her.
She couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened at Monday’s dinner. Replaying how hard she’d been triggered when she looked over and saw some faceless Trinity texting Maxwell nonstop. How guilty he’d looked; how quick he’d been to cover it up, to hide the evidence.
But she’d never asked who it was, or why they were texting. What if Trinity was his grandma? Or an old friend from high school? Trinity didn’t automatically equal that cheerleader, even though she’d been desperate to ask Daisy for the full roster of cheerleader names that night. She hated that she’d let her paranoia control her. It had ruined their night and pushed them farther apart.
And Jill wanted to be honest about what was holding her back. Even if they didn’t end up working out in the end…Maxwell deserved that much, at least.
The week slid away from her, as usual. She didn’t see much of Maxwell, and things returned to pleasant but strained between them for the rest of the week. Maxwell came home later than normal most nights, usually missing dinner. She opted for the guest room that week, not knowing when or how to launch the conversation. She knew it needed to be at the right time, while she was in the right headspace. And she was working on getting there. As much as she could.
By the weekend, she’d figured out a general plan of attack. She wanted to surprise him; that much was certain. But she also wanted to be able to steal him away. Take him out for a romantic dinner where they could have a re-do of Monday night and reconnect as sensual, clear-headed adults.
So that was the plan. When game Sunday rolled around, Jill arranged with Marie to come stay with the kids that afternoon, with Kelsey arranged for a shift change around dinnertime, so that Marie could get some one-on-one time with the kids. This would allow Jill to slip out, watch the game in person, and then surprise Maxwell in the locker room with dinner plans and hopefully a long-overdue heartfelt conversation.
Perfect.
Jill was nervous the entire way to the stadium for the home game. Maxwell had told her she was on their permanent VIP list, meaning she could roll up and claim her ticket whenever she wanted. The familiar drive to the stadium felt eternal, though, and she tried to focus on grounding elements during the drive: the abundance of Christmas decorations, big trees decorated with huge ornaments, the proliferation of fake snow that Savannah rarely got to experience in its real form.
But the meditative concentration wasn’t much help. She was more anxious than ever when she got to the stadium. At the gates, she was ushered into a VIP section reserved for family of the team; up in their special viewing area, which was full of NFL spouses and kids—some of whom she recognized from the cookout—she was able to relax a little and watch the field from a great angle. Tessa and Angus were there, which helped set her at ease. The three of them formed a little watch pod as the game began, Angus being the most vocal and enthusiastic.
The Sharks game was high intensity from the first kick. Jill wasn’t sure if it was just the stress of life recently or if the live games were always like this, but she was sucked in and taken for a ride. She, Tessa, and Angus cheered for the team, encouraging their special players to do their best. Not like they needed much encouragement. Mark and Maxwell were on fire out there, and seeing her man put his all into the game put the stress of the past few weeks into perspective.
This was what he was fighting for. This was why he was absent.
It made so much sense again, totally wiping away the paranoia that always seemed to crop up like an unwelcome guest.
His energy has been going here and to his family. That was it.
Jill watched the game on pins and needles, even when their lead made victory practically inevitable. The Sharks pulled off another win, which left the entire VIP area jumping and cheering. Jill hugged Tessa and Angus for good measure, grateful for their company for multiple reasons. Attending a game alone like this could have been a gateway to anxiety and spiraling thinking, but instead, she’d found familiar faces and comfort with them.
It was like her own version of an NFL family was beginning…and damn, it felt good.
Tessa and Angus led the way to the locker room after the game, Angus eagerly explaining the appropriate steps they’d need to take in order to see the players—flashing the VIP badge, waiting for them to finish interviews, and then eventually they could go inside. And it unfolded exactly as the little guy had explained. They were kept at bay down a long hallway while the media had their turn at the team in the locker room. With each bass undertone of a response and the rounds of laughter that came from the locker room, Jill grew more nervous. There were so many people here, so many unfamiliar faces. It was a song and dance she had no experience with. It was easy to feel overwhelmed.
But she could become familiar with it. Angus was proof of that.
The reporters slowly trickled out of the locker room, which meant other people ahead of them in the hallway slowly filed in. Jill followed Tessa and Angus, her belly in a tight knot as she shuffled behind them. What if Maxwell didn’t want to see her, didn’t appreciate the visit? She was practically coming apart at the seams and could barely focus on putting one foot in front of the other.
And then they walked into the brightly lit locker room, carpeted with jade and lined with wooden alcoves for each individual player. Softly padded benches sat in the center of the room; in the back, a tiled hallway led to what Jill assumed could only be the showers. It was equal parts luxurious and functional.
And there in the back corner stood Maxwell. Hair freshly washed, still damp and dark, his broad shoulders straining at the gray T-shirt he’d paired with black workout shorts. His leg was propped up on a stepstool as he smiled down at a visitor who had already swooped in and snagged his attention. A young lady with chestnut brown hair and a glinting grin. Her hand touching his elbow like this wasn’t the first time she’d seen him, and definitely wouldn’t be the last.
Jill’s stomach plummeted to her feet, and she stopped walking, unable to continue or run away or do anything other than stare.