“February 6th.”
Jackson stills. “Pretty sure that’s the Super Bowl this year.”
I gasp. “Get out!”
He chuckles. “Swear to God.”
I groan dramatically, covering my face.
Jackson grabs my wrist, tugging my hands down, smirking. "Guess we’ll have to win it early then."
“So. Miami.” I sigh, shaking my head. “I can’t believe this is my life.”
“Yeah. You’re football royalty now. You’ll have to meet the other WAGs.”
“WAGs?”
“Wives And Girlfriends of the team. And, you know, Cassie will be there, too. Welcome to the family, babe.”
My stomach twists.Family.
He says it so easily, like it’s already set in stone. Like I belong in this world of stadiums and cameras and high-profile relationships where my life isn’t just mine anymore.
And sure, I’ve survived the first wave of reporters. I’ve smiled at the right moments, let Jackson’s confidence ground me when I felt like I might unravel.
But this is just the beginning.
Miami means bigger crowds. More eyes. More pressure.
And the WAGs? That’s a whole other world. I’ve seen the pictures, the way they always seem polished, effortlessly poised.
That’s not me.
I’m a small-town teacher who got caught up in something bigger than she ever imagined. And as much as I want to believe I’m ready for it, my nerves won’t quite settle.
Jackson squeezes my hand, snapping me back to the moment. His touch is steady, like he can feel the wheels turning in my head.
“Hey.” His voice is softer now. “You good?”
I force a smile. “Yeah.”
And maybe I will be.
Eventually.
But as much as I love him—as much as I want this—I’m not sure I’ll ever feel totally over the hump. Because once I step into the spotlight, there’s no going back.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
IVY
I step off the plane on Saturday morning, rolling my stiff shoulders, and immediately regret my choice of clothing.
The Miami humidity slams into me like a wall.
Jesus.
I knew it would be warm, but this isanother level. The air is thick, and my leggings suddenly feel like the worst choice in human history.