Page 26 of Closing the Distance

I offer him a smile and then glance at Lexi to see how she’s handling this. Past girlfriends used to either preen like peacocks that they were with me or get pissy about having to share me with fans—even if that fan was a kid. But it shouldn’t surprise me that Lexi’s not paying me any attention. She’s smiling down at the kid like she thinks it’s cute the way he’s in awe of me standing right behind him.

Focusing back on the kid, I squat down so I’m more on his level. I’ve never liked towering over the kids when they come to meet and greets. “How’s it goin’?”

His face lights up and he stumbles over his words. “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I’m really meeting you. My brother’s gonna be so jealous.”

“What’s your name?”

“Preston. Can you sign my hat?”

“Sure thing.” I look up at the counter and ask the employee if she’s got a pen or Sharpie. She hands me one of each, and I use the Sharpie to sign my name and jersey number on his hat.

He stares at it in awe and then Lexi’s voice speaks from beside me. “Do you want a picture together?”

I glance up at her, and she’s looking at the kid’s mom. “I can take one if you want to be in it too.”

I’m not sure what the mom does or says because I can’t stop staring at Lexi. She’s effortless and unfazed. And there’s no way I’m going to survive if this woman leaves me. I don’t care if she ends up being a gold digger—although the evidence that she could be is completely nonexistent. In this moment, I let go of any remaining doubts as I soak her in and relish finally having a real partner who doesn’t see my public-facing job as a burden or a stepping stone for something better.

Lexi grabs the mom’s phone, and I stand up between the two of them for the picture, all of us smiling, and I know my smile in this picture will be bigger than any other fan photo I’ve ever taken because I’m smiling at the woman taking it.

FIFTEEN

Ty slides his fingers between mine, entwining our free hands while we eat ice cream cones with our others. He’s been throwing me soft smiles ever since we met that cute kid and his mom. It’s the first time I’ve seen Ty interact with a fan in public, and I have to admit it was pretty cute to watch him.

We walk down the boardwalk a bit before he pulls us out onto the sand, and we move closer to the gentle waves lapping at the shore. The sun hangs low in the sky, but we’ve still got another hour or so before it’ll get dark.

He pulls me to a stop and wraps his arm around me, pulling me in so my chest is against his as he finishes off his ice cream cone. I don’t know how he’s done with it already.

He stares down at me and then his gaze drops to my mouth. “What?” I ask, self-conscious that I have chocolate ice cream on my face.

My worst fears are confirmed when he goes, “You’ve got a little something right here.” The last word is whispered against my lips before he closes the distance and slides his firm lips against mine. My body melts against his as I stay aware enough to keep my ice cream cone from tipping over.

He pulls back and hums. “Mmm, chocolate.”

I bury my face against his chest as giggles escape. Freaking giggles. Only this man has ever been able to get me to giggle like some innocent schoolgirl. It’s a novel thing to feel as light and carefree as this man makes me.

He rubs his thumb softly against my cheek, staring into my eyes, and my heart starts racing the longer he looks at me without saying a word. What does he see that has him looking at me like he’s staring at the moon and stars in my eyes?

And how can I keep him looking at me like this always? No one has ever looked at me like this, and I know well enough that it won’t last, so I choose to soak it up as long as I can.

“I want to know everything about you,” he says, his voice low.

He wouldn’t say that if he knew everything. If he knew how I grew up, the realities of an unhappy and endlessly lonely childhood. Not even Blaire knows everything.

He takes my hand again, and we keep walking along the beach. “I’m serious, you know. I want to really know you, Lexi. Are you close with your folks?”

I hate that one of the first get-to-know-you questions is inevitably about family. I suppose I should be grateful that he’s waited this long to ask. “My parents died when I was young.”

His face falls. “Oh Lex, I’m so sorry.”

I shrug. “I was so young; I don’t really remember them much anymore.” That’s the biggest tragedy of losing them when I was too little to have a lasting memory. The bits and pieces I do remember get harder to recall the older I get, and I worry about the day when I won’t remember them at all. It’ll be like losing them all over again.

“So did your grandparents raise you then?”

His voice is soft like he understands the delicate nature of our conversation, but it doesn’t make it any easier. I really don’t want to talk about this, especially not when I was having such a good time.

“No. I was in foster care until I turned eighteen. What got you into football?”

He glances at me and thankfully doesn’t push anymore about my family. “I started playing youth football when I was eight. I was super active—all of us boys were—so my parents got us into sports pretty early. I played everything, but I fell in love with football and was more of a natural with it, so that’s what I stuck with.”

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