I can’t help the sigh that comes out, and the women all just sort of nod… understanding they’re each a walking romance book. It’s at this point I realize something about myself. Each of their stories affect me—touching that part deep inside I thought had been killed long ago. The notion that love is real, and it can even still resemble something along the lines of fairy tales.
“Willow’s story is the best of all,” Regan announces, giving a tiny hiccup. I think she’s on her way to getting drunk. Apparently, these women had quite a few fruity cocktails before I even arrived.
Willow snorts, settling back in her chair and holding up her champagne glass. “I don’t know about that, but I will agree right here and now that my man is the most annoying of all.”
I have to wonder what it’s like to be married to the owner of the Arizona Vengeance. Aaron completely flummoxed me earlier by telling me how much he made with this team, but I imagine Dominik Carlson’s wealth has got to be in the billions. Aaron told me Dominik also owns a professional basketball team.
“Oh yes,” Regan drawls, making a strenuous roll of her eyes at Willow. “Your man is so annoying. I mean… he leaves during the playoffs to fly halfway across the world to rescue you from terrorists. I don’t know how you ever put up with him.”
The other women snicker, but I stare at Willow with abject fascination. “He rescued you from terrorists?”
Willow’s expression softens, turning dreamy before she admits, “Well, that might be a slight exaggeration, as I’d already been saved by the time he arrived, but he did leave during the playoffs and fly to Turkey to come get me.”
“And then immediately carted you off to Vegas for a wedding,” Pepper adds, her own voice sounding dreamy from the romanticism of it all.
“Then off to a luxurious honeymoon in the Maldives,” Blue quips. “I hate you by the way.”
“I really did score big with Dominik, didn’t I?” Willow chirps with a dopey smile.
She gets an “amen,” a “preach,” and a high snap over a shoulder in agreement. I’m amazed and a little bit in awe of Willow. Somehow, I think these little tidbits I’m getting—brief peeks into these women’s love affairs—are really just the tip of the iceberg.
“While I believe all of our stories are fascinating,” Willow drawls, turning her attention squarely back to me. “I think Clarke needs to tell us how she managed to nab the league’s most notorious playboy?”
Really? Most notorious playboy?
“There’s a reason they call him Wylde,” Regan chortles.
“I’m glad my man handed that title over,” Blue mutters.
“He’s not all that wild,” Brook observes, then gives me a very pointed look. “That man is smitten with you. So how did you meet?”
I’m not sure about the smitten part, but we do have a good meet-cute, that’s for sure.
I take a sip of my champagne, then settle in to tell them the story of how Aaron walked into my store and suckered me into a bet that would assuredly land him with two wedding dates.
“Oh my God,” Nora exclaims. She’s been very quiet up until now. I know her man, Tacker, is Aaron’s best friend so I kind of thought she might have already known this story. But then again, I have no clue what Aaron has told his teammates. “That is like the best story ever. I thought Wylde might have layers to him… I just never knew they’d be so multi-dimensional.”
“He can quote literary classics?” Blue asks, her eyebrows knitted in confusion. “I thought it was like physically impossible for athletes to be so well-read.”
“Stereotype much?” Regan chides.
Blushing, Blue shrugs. “Hey… I’m blonde and I’m not well-read like that. I’m a walking stereotype. I just mean… we all know how much effort our men have to put into this career. It’s more than a full-time job. When would he have time to read?”
“Well, regardless,” Brooke intones, bringing the subject back around. “I think it’s adorable how you two met, and I’m glad things are working out. I think I speak for all the women in this group when I say it’s a pleasure watching someone like Wylde fall for the first—and hopefully last—time.”
Her sentiment has me feeling awfully unsure of myself. While it’s been a bit surreal how much my feelings for Aaron have changed in just a few weeks’ time, I still can’t seem to shake that impending feeling of doom that this could all come crashing down in a heartbeat.
Their pointed reminders of what a playboy he was are certainly not helping.
“Did we say something wrong?” Brooke asks, her hand coming to settle gently on my forearm.
Whatever is on my face, I try to smooth it out because I don’t want to cause the bride concern. I don’t want to cause any concern, as I’m the guest here.
“No,” I rush to reassure her with an overly bright—completely fake—smile. “I’m fine, really.”
“Because you don’t have to worry about that playboy stuff,” she continues. “Aaron is really into you, trust me on that.”
“I know he is,” I reply, but the dullness in my tone has her frowning. She shoots a pointed look across the room at the women sitting opposite, then brings her worried expression back. She knows there’s more to the story. I feel like there’s a proverbial bright light shining in my face, and they’re on the verge of wrangling a confession out of me.
“So there’s this thing that happened to me.” I actually blink in surprise at the ease with which those words come out of my mouth, especially since I had no intention of sharing my secret with these women. And yet… I keep talking. “A few years back, I was on this reality TV show called Celebrity Proposal.”
I lay it out. All of my pain, shame, and humiliation over what happened. I tell them about the meme and how it haunts me still. How stupid I felt giving up my virginity to a man I had so thoroughly misjudged and how that shadow hangs over me to this day, still influencing my decisions.
Knowing what I now know about Aaron, I can’t believe those past experiences almost kept me from exploring something with him.
Oh, the things I would have missed out on.
“I used to watch that show,” Nora says quietly, and all eyes turn to her. “I remember when that happened.”
I flush with embarrassment. It’s one thing to recount the story, another to know one of these women watched it play out on live TV.
“You have nothing to be ashamed of,” she continues, her voice firm. “You did nothing wrong. You merely followed your heart. Sadly, it misled you.”
“Did it ever,” I affirm.
“The point being,” Nora says, and I’m helpless to look away. She’s a therapist, so she must know something about which she speaks. “It’s an experience that has helped shape you into the person you are today. I’m going to guess that person is someone who is guarded and afraid to take risks. Nothing wrong with that, but just because that’s the person you are today doesn’t mean it’s the person you have to be tomorrow. You’ve already gone out on a limb by exploring things with Aaron. That means you’re willing to spread those wings a bit, which I think is wonderful. Personally, I think you have the right man to do it with.”