Page 56 of Meet Your Match
My eyes were a bit squinted from the flash, which just made me look sated, the smile on my lips subtle and soft. My normally curly hair was styled in soft waves and blowing in the wind, fresh from the blowout I’d had done earlier in the afternoon. Strands of it stuck to my lips, my hands clutching Vince’s arm tightly, fingertips curled into the fabric of his jacket. And even though I knew that I’d just been tired, I looked like I’d just been freshly fucked.
And there was Vince behind me, wrapping me up like he owned me, his eyes low and sexy and commanding all of the camera’s attention.
His lips were pressed against my hair.
My chest tightened.Howhad I not noticed that?
But I didn’t focus on it long before I was gaping at the text overlaid on the screen.
night out celebrating with my girl
I clicked out of it, blinking, only to be hit with it in my feed.
The photo had already been picked up by ESPN, and they’d reposted it.
Sonofabitch.
CHAPTER 18
ALL THE RIGHT WEBS
Maven
Ipulled my hood over my head in the back of the plane the next morning, ignoring Vince, along with the rest of the team, as my phone continued to blow up. Reya and Camilla wanted me to call as soon as I landed. So did Livia.
When we touched down in Tampa, I bolted, getting my own ride downtown so I could make my calls in peace. But before I had the chance to call my best friend, my phone buzzed in my hands with my parents’ faces lighting up the screen.
It was a photo from Christmas two years ago, all of us in pajamas and huddled together for a selfie by the tree. Dad had taken it, his long arm stretched out and his smile wide. Mom was curled into his side, and I was there in front of them, a blend of the two humans who made me.
I always felt that I favored my mom — the same gold eyes, same slight frame, same warm smile. But my dad was evident in all my features, too. Our eyes were the same shape, we shared the freckles smattering our cheeks, andI knew I got my attitude solely from him. Dad’s skin was a pale white, though it turned red with emotion, alcohol, or even ten minutes in the sun. Mom’s skin was a deep brown, like the soil of Mother Earth. And I was a blend of the two.
Normally, I would have been answering their call with a smile, excited to hear how they were and to tell them about my life, too.
But today, I answered with anxiety bubbling in my gut.
“Hello,” I said just as I slid into the back of a cab. I quickly told the driver which building to take me to before my dad’s voice rumbled through the phone.
“Are you dating this hockey player?”
I chuckled, letting my head fall back against the seat as I stared out the window. “Well, good morning to you, too, Daddy. Yes, I’m doing well, thank you for asking. What was it like in Pittsburgh and Baltimore? Well, the weather was—”
“I don’t care about the weather,” he said, and even though his voice was deep in its severity, I still smiled. My father loved to act like a protective Rottweiler when it came to me, but in reality, he was just a teddy bear. “I care about this young man with a reputation who seems to have become very comfortable with my daughter.”
“What your father is trying to say,” my mom interjected, her voice sweet like maple syrup. I could picture her gently placing a hand on my father’s arm, could see the deep inhale that touch would force him to take. “Is that we wanted to check in on you and make sure you’re doing okay.”
“And that you’re keeping your head on straight and remembering that this is a job,” Dad added.
Mom sucked her teeth, and I tried not to bristle with defense as I slid in my earbuds so I could talk hands-free. “I’m not dating him, Daddy. It was a publicity stunt. Just giving the people something to talk about.”
My throat tightened a bit at that, because it had been anunplannedstunt that I did not actively participate in. I was trying not to blow a gasket. My bosses were clearly fine with that photo and the implications behind it, but it didn’t stop me from feeling like a fool.
An unprofessional, simpering fool.
That’show everyone else would see me. I was no longer the woman behind the camera, the one on assignment with my job at the forefront of my mind. I was no longer a content creator, a reporter, a force to be reckoned with, taking the sports world by storm.
Now, I was a joke.
The fact that my parents were calling me was proof of that.
