Chapter 15

15

LUCA

And I thought USC’s facilities were nice….

Admiral Arena is a brand new, state-of-the-art facility near La Jolla. It’s as if they built it with all their hopes and dreams for the team in mind, trying to manifest the NFL’s newest and greatest team. The San Diego Admirals have only been around for a few years, and they’re still trying to make a name for themselves.

Ourselves.

I’m an Admiral now. I’m still trying to grasp that fact.

I grab two subs from the table of food provided after a morning of grueling practice and weight training, and I put them on my towering plate. After lunch, it’ll be playbook study, then special teams drills, another practice session, film review, then dinner. Even after all that, I’m supposed to study the playbook, but I’m also trying to juggle schoolwork.

My professors have been accommodating given my situation, and I’m not too worried about my grades, but it’s a lot of plates to keep spinning, especially when my muscles are screaming from exhaustion. At least tomorrow we end after lunch.

After finishing camp the last two nights, I’ve checked out a couple of house rentals—we need to get that lease to Preston—but I haven’t decided on anything yet. It feels wrong to make a choice without Tori’s input when her name will be on the lease. A name she now officially shares with me.

I grab two waters and turn around to look at the array of tables. Loud laughter and knee-slapping come from the table in the far corner. It’s mostly a table of defensive backs. I only know one of them by name—Louie, a safety. Everyone knows him because he’s just that loud, and he’s the center of the good time they’re all having at his table, even though none of them knew each other two days ago.

I consider joining them, but my stomach clenches at the thought. I’ve never been great at meeting people, so I’ve just been keeping my head down and working. The social stuff will come when it comes. Louie’s the type of guy I stay away from anyway. Guys like him love the spotlight and talk a lot of crap, but when they get grief for their constant jabs, they act like everyone else is overly sensitive.

I take a chair at the only empty table and dive into my food. The jabbering of the rookies and undrafted free agents and tryouts all around me makes me miss Tori a little. If she were here, she’d probably have a crowd of people around her, and she’d be making them laugh. She’d be making me laugh too.

I pull out my phone and shoot her a text.

Luca

You still free to come check out a few places tomorrow after lunch?

Tori

You don’t need my approval to pick your own apartment, Luca.

Your name will be on the contract, and I wouldn’t mind your input, but I get it if you’re busy. I can just send something for you to sign digitally.

Don’t you dare rob me of my afternoon in San Diego! It’s the only thing keeping me sane at this slogfest. Pick you up at 1?

I smile. I can actually hear her voice in those texts. I’m glad she wants to come. I want her to too.

Maybe it’s knowing I have a break from the nonstop schedule of mini camp, but the sight of Tori leaning against her car when I walk out of the arena is the most welcome one I’ve seen in a while. She’s got on shorts, a T-shirt, and sunglasses. She tips her head to the side and smiles at the sight of me, though we’re still too far to talk.

Three guys are up ahead of me, and Louie elbows the guy next to him and leans in to say something. Louie’s one of the tryouts who didn’t get drafted, but he’s mighty cocky despite that fact.

“Well, hello there, beautiful,” he says smoothly, approaching Tori as he looks her up and down. “You offering rides?”

My muscles tense, and a wave of anger like I haven’t felt in a years flushes through my veins.

Tori lifts her sunglasses onto the top of her head as Louie stops right in front of her. Way too close. Maybe he thought the little head tip and smile was for him.

His friends hang back, like good wingmen giving their friend space to pick up a woman. My wife.

“Yeah,” Tori says, smiling. “I am giving rides.”

My gait—which picked up speed with Louie’s comments—slows along with my heartbeat. She’s actually giving him the time of day?

“What’s your name?” Tori asks, still smiling.

“Louie,” he says, somehow making it sound like a pickup line.

“Well, Louie ,” she says, pushing herself off the car, “allow me to recommend an Uber. Or one of those over there.” She jerks her head in the direction of a few electric scooters.

Louie’s head comes back a bit, like he’s trying to decide if she’s being coy. “And what if I don’t want one of those rusty old things? I thought you were giving rides.”

“Just one.” She takes a couple steps around him.

My heart grinds to a halt as she walks right up to me, wraps her arms around my neck, looks in my eyes, and says, “Hey, sexy.” She goes up on her toes and pulls my mouth to hers.

I freeze with shock initially, but at the feel of her lips covering mine, my heart roars to life. I let the duffel bag slip off my shoulder and wrap my arms around her waist.

She smells divine, feels amazing, and the taste of her…

I’ve been convincing myself that the moment in her bedroom when I wanted to kiss her so badly was just a fit of madness, but now? It seems like madness to spend any time doing anything but kissing her.

She slides her fingers up my neck and threads them through my loose hair, still wet from the shower. I grasp the fabric of her shirt at the small of her back like those threads are the one thing keeping me on this earth.

Am I crazy, or does kissing usually not feel like this? Maybe it’s just been that long for me.

She pulls away suddenly, and I’m dizzy as she looks up at me and smiles. “I missed you.”

I can’t form words. My brain is too busy trying to figure out if she means it or if this is part of the show for Louie.

Definitely part of the show. She was crystal clear about not wanting anything romantic. And neither do I. In my sane moments.

The sight of Louie staring at us brings me back to earth. “I see you’ve met my wife.”

“Yup.” Suddenly, he’s no longer the smooth player picking up a woman. He’s a gruff football player.

“Still need a ride?” Tori asks him with a smile, one hand splayed on my chest. She looks him up and down. “You look small enough to squeeze in the back.”

I cough to mask the laugh that comes out of me.

Louie stares at her, then me, and forces a smile. “Nah. I’m good.” And then he and his buddies, who are stifling their own laughs, head the other direction.

We watch them for a few seconds, then Tori drops her hand from my chest and turns to the car. “Is he on your team?”

“I hope not,” I say. “He didn’t get picked, but he’s hoping to get put on the off-season roster.”

“Dang skippy he didn’t get picked,” she says with an adorable half-smile and wink at me as she gets in the passenger seat. It’s her car, but she clearly expects me to drive. It feels very man-and-wife, which is technically accurate.

She rolls her window down and closes her eyes against the breeze as we get on our way. “I really needed this.”

I glance at her. She’s talking about a day in San Diego, away from work. Not time with me, or the way we just half-made out in front of Louie. “Work not going well?”

“Oh, it’s going fine. It’s just soul-suckingly boring. What’s the point of paying a fortune to live in sunny L.A. when I stare at windowless, eggshell-white walls all day? Not that I am paying a fortune.”

“Really? Your place is nice.”

“It’s my brother Troy’s.” She takes off her sunglasses and blows on them, then cleans them with her shirt. “He and Stevie own a few properties, and he’s generous enough to sacrifice market-rate rent money so I can live there. But it’s only temporary.” Her brow wrinkles. “Actually, I’m coming up on a year here soon. He’ll probably be bugging me to get out any minute now. Anyway, what’s our first stop?”

“A place in Carmel Valley,” I say. “It’s not too far.”

“A rental, right? Or have you looked into buying at all?”

“Not really. I don’t want to put down roots only to get cut.”

“You’re not getting cut.” She puts her arm out of the window and lets the wind rush between her fingers. “But I think renting is best anyway. Gives you a chance to get to know the area better. Plus, it’ll make things easier when we get divorced.”

My stomach drops.

Divorce has always been the plan. I guess it’s just weird to hear it talked about so flippantly.

The Carmel house is in a nice neighborhood. It’s huge and has a workout room, which is a must. It just feels a little big for one person.

After that, we head to an apartment in Solana, which has a gym, but only as part of the HOA. It’s a third-floor apartment with a partial view of the ocean. It’s a lot more compact than the house, and there’s no elevator, but the amenities and view are nice.

Finally, we stop at a place in Bird Rock, another home in a family-friendly neighborhood. Across the street, the houses have views over the clifftops. I can’t believe I can afford to rent these types of places. I’m trying to be wise with my money while also letting myself enjoy the fruits of my labors a bit.

“What do you think?” Tori asks as we leave the Bird Rock house.

“What do you think?” I parrot back.

“You’re the one who’ll be living there.”

I glance at her, hesitant to voice the thought in my head.

She looks at me curiously. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Lucas,” she says severely. She loves to call me that when she’s pretending to be mad at me, even though she knows it’s not my full name.

I shrug. “I’m just wondering what our plan is once the season starts.”

“What do you mean?”

I take a breath. Why is this so awkward? “During training, we have a good excuse for living apart—you’ve got your job, I’ll be gone all the time—but what about after?”

“Yeah, I was thinking about that the other day.” She cocks a brow at me as we get to the car. “Are you asking me to move in with you?” She fans her face. “This is all moving so fast.”

We get into the car, and I’m grateful for a few seconds to formulate my response. “We’ll just need some sort of plan, but we’ve got time.”

“Are you revoking your invitation?” she says as I start the car.

“Your name will be on whatever contract I sign. The place will be yours as much as mine. You can stay whenever you want for however long you want.”

She rolls down her window and looks pensively through it as we roll down the street. “I’d love to live in San Diego. How does it feel so different from L.A.?”

I look around as we drive through La Jolla. “It does, doesn’t it?”

She nods. “Maybe I should ask my boss if I can work remotely. Nah. He’d never go for that.”

I glance at her again. “Do you like your job?”

She just laughs.

“You know you don’t have to work,” I say. “You say you want to figure out what to do with your life, right?”

She looks at me with skeptical amusement. “Yeah, so?”

I shrug and focus on the road. I don’t want this conversation to sound more intense than I mean it to be. “I shouldn’t be the only one reaping the benefits of our situation. Why not use this as a time to explore your options? See if you really do want to live in San Diego, look for jobs you think you might enjoy, live a little. It’d be a lot easier to do all that if you weren’t tied up all day working a job you don’t even like.”

Her eyes are on me, contemplative but doubtful.

“Just know it’s an option,” I say.

“Thanks,” she replies, but the way she says it, it doesn’t seem like an option she’s really considering.

“I like different things about all three places,” I say, changing the subject from my failed offer.

“They’ve all got their charm, don’t they? Is there one that’s calling to you?”

“Not really. They’d all be fine, I think.”

“All solid options,” she agrees. “I’d be completely happy to sign a lease on any of them. Though, I feel like you might attract attention in the gym at the Solana place, looking like that”—she nods in the general direction of my body—“and being a famous football player.”

She pulls out her phone, already moving on.

I’m still stuck on the looking like that comment. Does she like the way I look? I definitely like the way she looks. It’s been getting more and more difficult to pretend my attraction to her isn’t growing.

“Dang,” she says. “Traffic sucks. I mean, of course it does, but I’d hoped to get ahead of it. Want to take me to dinner while it calms down?”

“Isn’t it like 4 o’clock?” I say with a hint of amusement.

“Yeah. Are you not hungry?”

“I live in a constant state of hunger.”

She grins. “Same. So, where do we want to eat? Unless you’ve got other stuff planned…”

I shake my head, which is the truth. I don’t have any specific plans for my afternoon and evening beyond familiarizing myself more with the playbook and studying for finals. But even if I did have something exciting planned, I’d have shaken my head.

In fact, I can’t really think of a way I’d rather spend my afternoon off than with Tori.

And I don’t know how to feel about that.