Chapter Six

Romilly glanced at her watch again. One minute later than the last time she’d checked. She had texted the address of the gallery to Kaiden and now she waited for him to show up. She debated whether she should act cool and go inside, or stay out here and wait, hoping he showed up.

What if he doesn’t come?

What if I never see him again?

Well, she reckoned, if that happened, she had two fun dates with him. Which was one date more than she usually had. She’d never been good at mingling.

“Hey there, Beautiful.”

His deep voice behind jolted her and she gave a little yelp. Kaiden grabbed her arm to prevent her from falling on her butt.

“Sorry,” he said with a smile. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No worries. I was in my own head. Ready to go in?”

He held out his elbow and she slipped her hand through it. Kaiden looked handsome in his tailored slacks and button-down, with his dark hair slicked back and freshly shaven jaw. They entered the brightly lit gallery, mingling with the rest of crowd. The walls and partitions held spotlights over each painting. Romilly glanced around, trying to see everything at once, and decided to move further in to avoid most of the people.

“The style is mainly Art Nouveau,” she murmured in a low tone. “You can tell by the organic forms and flowing lines. The intricate patterns are inspired by natural elements. The artist throws in a touch of realism every now and then, which I appreciate.”

“Is this your style?”

“No, I’m more of an Impressionist. I like using unblended colors to capture outdoor scenes.”

“Do you have pictures of yours so I can understand the difference?”

She pulled out her phone and brought up some of her artwork. “These are some of my latest ones. I like going to the botanical gardens to get inspiration.”

Kaiden took her phone and scrolled through her photos. “These are really good, Babe.”

His praise, as well as the term of endearment, sent a flood of warmth through her. “Thank you. I have a few artists that inspire me. Pissarro and of course Monet. I think I’d have been a stalker if I lived back then.”

He chuckled and handed her phone back. They continued looking at the paintings, with him asking questions and she answering. After about half an hour, an older man walked up to them with a hesitant question on his face.

“Hello, sorry to bother you, I was wondering if you were…”

His voice trailed off, as if afraid to continue the question. Romilly looked at Kaiden, wondering how he was going to play this. At the restaurant the other night, he had denied being himself, and she was there to back him up on whatever he said.

Then Kaiden held out his hand. “Kaiden Demay. Nice to meet you.”

A smile burst across the man’s face as he thrust out his hand. “Wow, I’m so stoked. Over nine thousand receiving yards. Over four hundred receiving first-downs. A five-time pro-bowler and four-time All-Pro. It’s amazing to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Kaiden said humbly.

“Would you mind if I got a picture?”

“Here, I’ll take it,” Romilly said.

The man smiled and held out his phone. She took it and snapped a few photos as the man posed with Kaiden.

“Thank you,” the man said. “Please tell me you’re joining the Archers.”

Kaiden put a finger to his lips. “Too early to talk football.”

“Oh, yes. Sorry. Fingers crossed. Well, thank you so much. My son is going to freak out. He was supposed to come with me but decided he didn’t want to see art tonight. This’ll teach him!”

He thanked them both again, and then disappeared into the crowd.

Kaiden looked down at her. “Thanks for handling that so well.”

“Does that happen often? Running into people who quote your stats?”

He nodded. “Happened a lot when I was back in California.”

“Are you famous or something?”

“Sometimes I get recognized, like tonight. It got bad after my first arrest.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Your first?”

“This past year I’ve done some stupid stuff,” he admitted, then looked around. “This conversation is best somewhere else.”

“Okay,” she said. “Let’s go.”

“Wait, we can do that some other time. I don’t want to upset your evening here.”

“Let’s go meet the artist and then we can leave. Does that work?”

He ran the backs of his fingers down one of her cheeks. “All right.”

They made their way to where the artist, Martin Hope, held court, talking about his work. He was a heavier man, full beard. Not someone who looked like they were a starving artist. And as soon as he saw Kaiden, he stopped mid-sentence and his jaw dropped.

“I think he recognizes you,” she whispered.

Martin barreled forward, awe in his gaze. “Oh my God! You’re … you … it’s you!”

Kaiden smiled. “It’s me. My friend wanted to mee t— ”

Martin thrust his hand out, taking hold of Kaiden’s even though he rolled right over what he said.

“I’m a fan,” he gushed. “You guys should’ve won the Super Bowl three years ago.”

“I’m not going to disagree with you on that,” Kaiden replied, which caused Martin to laugh.

Now they were starting to draw a crowd. Cell phones were out, taking pictures and recording videos. People thrust pieces of paper and pens at him. Romilly was pushed to the side and the gap she left was quickly filled by others.

This wasn’t at all like meeting the first man. This was mob mentality. No one was looking at the paintings anymore. Not even Martin Hope himself. Instead, it was like a switch had been flipped. Even though no one had recognized him earlier, save for the nice older man, but now she saw people Googling him on their phones. Romilly kept retreating and then she heard her name.

“Romilly!” Kaiden called out. “Please let me through.”

Surprisingly, people actually listened and moved out of his way so he could reach her. Cupping her face, he looked her over as if making sure she was okay. Then he took hold of her hand and waved at the spectators. A moment later, he led her out of the gallery and around the side of the building to lose anyone who thought to follow.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his body. He smelled like cedar and spice, enveloping her in warmth. Romilly closed her eyes and melted into the embrace as a surge of contentedness she’d never felt before filled her.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his chin resting on top of her head.

“For what?”

“Back there.”

She eased far enough away to look up at him. The streetlights were just enough to see the conflict on his face.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry about.”

“Being with me means being with that.” He leaned his head back against the brick wall. “When you didn’t know who I was, that was like heroin. I wanted more of that. You’re the first real person who doesn’t want me for money or fame. Shit, infamy, actually. But you need to determine if you can weather that because sometimes my life is a circus.”

He didn’t look at her, his body rigid, as if bracing himself for whatever she was going to say.

“Kaiden,” she said softly, reaching up to cup his face. He looked down and she saw stark acceptance in his gaze. “Those people don’t matter. Nothing does, except right here in this moment. You and me.”

Something flashed through his eyes. “My mom said something similar. Look, I know we just met, but I care about you enough to ask you to think this through.” He licked his lips. “I’m serious when I say the media will turn up everything in your past. Where you went to school. Who your best friends were. Your parents’ death. Your aunt. Every single lover you’ve had. There won’t be any secrets left.”

“I’m a pretty boring person.”

He leaned his forehead against hers. “No, Baby, you’re not. Come on, let me drive you home.”

Kaiden drove her to her apartment complex and walked her to her door. She wanted to invite him in, but didn’t want to give him the wrong idea. It was far too soon for any type of intimacy.

“Take as much time as you need,” he told her. “Think everything through. Check out my arrest video and social media. Our outings are splashed all over it. Please forgive me for dragging you through this if you decide you can’t handle it.”

“You think I’m going to change my mind?”

“It’s a good possibility, and it might be the best for you.”

“Do one thing for me.”

“What?”

“Kiss me.”

Before she had even finished saying the words, his hand slid under her hair to cup her nape. Then he pressed his lips to hers almost reverently, wrapping his arm around her tenderly. He coaxed her mouth to open, and he swept in. The sparks between them ignited into an inferno of fireworks. Even their kiss earlier wasn’t like this. With heat pooling between her legs. Her body buzzing with lust. He tasted amazing, felt even better, and the kiss ended way too soon.

When they broke for air, she stared into his eyes, knowing without a shadow of a doubt that given the chance, he’d obliterate her for any other man. She understood his hesitancy was as much for him as it was for her.

“Monday I start training,” he said in a low voice. “I’ll be gone all day, but you can text me your decision. Or not. If you want me to fuck off, then just forget about me.”

“I could never forget you.”

He leaned in and placed a kiss on her forehead. “God, I hope you fucking text me. Good night, Baby.”

“Good night.”

She stood outside her apartment long after he had left, touching her lips. Already knowing she’d brave any mob to be with him.