Page 136 of It Happened on a Sunday
I have no idea what to expect when I reach for the box, and my hands tremble just a little as I lift the lid and find the most beautiful pair of earrings I’ve ever seen.
Part of me was expecting spiders—something to go with the Black Widow moniker that controls so much of my life. But I should have known Sly would never do that, not when he’s always been able to see through the bullshit to the woman below.
“The song,” I whisper as I pick up one of the ornate chandelier earrings for a closer look. It’s made entirely of diamonds—white and canary yellow—and while the design is abstract, there’s just enough structure to hint at three birds in flight. “You remembered the song.”
“It’s the first thing you ever sang just for me. I’ll remember that moment until I die.”
Just like that, I’m back in the hotel room, holding Sly as he tells me about his sister. It’s the moment I realized he and I have more in common than I ever imagined.
“I love them,” I whisper, and my hands are shaking so badly I can’t unscrew the bearing back from the post. “Thank you.”
“Want me to do that for you?” he asks, nodding to where I’m still fumbling.
“Yes, please.”
His eyes—his beautiful, too-perceptive brown eyes—stay on mine as he slowly unscrews the earring backs and then steps forward to put them on me. As he does, I breathe him in, and it feels like home.
Hefeels like home—warm and worn and full of songs I didn’tknow I remembered.
For the first time since I met him, the feeling doesn’t scare me. It comforts me. So much so that I find myself singing Bob Marley again, and this time I truly believe it. Everything reallyisgoing to be all right.
Sly’s eyes well up as I finish, and he pulls me close, murmuring, “I’ve got you, Sloane. I’ll always have you.”
“I know you do,” I whisper back, because I believe him. I really, truly do.
I carry that belief with me into the Twisters’ party. I pose with him on the red carpet before walking into the venue, where everyone is either staring at us or jockeying to meet me.
“Told you we should have stayed home,” Sly mutters after an especially tedious conversation with the team owner and his wife.
“But then I would’ve had nowhere to wear these earrings,” I murmur back, gently shaking my head just so I can feel them brush my cheeks.
“You could have worn them in bed,” he replies, making me giggle.
The sound has Sly’s whole face lighting up, and he leans down to kiss me just as someone behind us says, “Well look who the cat dragged in.”
“Oh, don’t you start,” Sly says as he turns around.
“Don’t start what?” Marquis answers with a grin, rather catlike himself. Like Sly, he’s wearing a gorgeous black suit. But instead of a black shirt, his is a vivid turquoise that flatters his dark-brown skin and dancing brown eyes. “I’m just saying hello to the gorgeous couple I’m responsible for getting together.”
“You’re going to ride that high forever, aren’t you?” Sly groans, and Marquis nods emphatically.
“That’s it? Your official career high? You’re goin’ out onJumbotron Guy?” I ask, all mock innocence and wide smiles.
“I would have said Cupid,” Marquis answers with a charming grin. “But Jumbotron Guy works, too.”
“That’s because a jumbotron is the only thing in the stadium as big as your ego,” another guy tells him as he passes by with a woman I presume to be his wife—on account of the matching wedding bands—at his side, her long blond hair nearly the same color as her gold dress.
“Glass houses, Tyson,” Marquis calls after him. “Glass fucking houses.”
I start laughing because Marquis really is as ridiculous as Sly has described, but in the most adorable way imaginable. I can totally see him being Sly’s best friend.
Before I can say anything else, though, several other players—some with their partners, some without—surround us. Apparently, Marquis broke the ice and now everyone wants to meet me.
“Tell me everything,” says a woman with long black hair and a gorgeous red Versace gown. “I’ve been on team Sloaney since the jumbotron.”
“This is Maria,” her date tells me. “And she’s not exaggerating. She’s had me bugging Sly practically every day since your date in L.A.”
“That kiss outside the Willow?” Maria tells me, fanning herself.“Muuuuy caliente.”
