Page 2 of Between the Paragraphs

“Aren’t you going to throw in some chocolates and a stuffy too?” Miles asks with the same smirk he’s been wearing all day. Why in the world did I think it was a good idea to ask him along on this adventure when I know he’s not the biggest fan of Chelsea? Maybe because I don’t need someone next to me who’s too scared to call me out on my BS.

“Great idea,” I say, as if he’s being serious. I grab a small box of truffles next to the counter, and one of the large teddy bears off to the side, and throw them on the counter with the roses. Miles smirks, though I ignore him as best as I can. He can rib me all he wants, but at the end of the day this is what needs to happen.

I gather the items and we leave the shop and climb into my vehicle to make our way back to my house where Miles is parked. We pull up and I turn to him.

“Wish me luck,” I say. He claps me on the back then moves over to his vehicle as I make my way inside the house. I smile as I throw open the door. Silence greets me.

I move through the house to the kitchen where I see a piece of paper on the counter. My heart thuds, though I don’t know why. Something’s wrong. I can feel it. I lift the letter.

Mason,

We’ve run our course. I told you not to retire, but you didn’t listen. I need excitement, not a boring life. Don’t try to come after me. I’ve slept with multiple members of opposing teams so there’s no fixing this. I like being an athlete’s girlfriend so it’s time to find a new one.

Kisses,

Chelsea

I gaze at the letter where she’s left an actual pink lipstick kiss beneath her name, mocking me. I don’t know what in the hell I’m feeling. I stare at it; feeling my world shift. It feels like the ring I just bought is burning a hole through my jacket and straight into my skin.

I send a text to Miles and tell him to come back. I sit, feeling like I’m waiting a lifetime. Each tick of the clock is a punch to the gut. We might give each other a whole lot of crap, but we’re here for each other anytime the chips are down. Minutes pass, though it feels like a century, before he opens the front door and his heavy footsteps echo through the empty house, down the hall, and finally, into the kitchen.

He doesn’t say anything as I hand him the letter. He reads it. Our eyes finally meet.

“What do you need?” he asks as he hands the letter back. I crumple it up, a bit of anger starting to fill me.

“I don’t even know what to say.” I let out a long sigh. It’s not grief I feel. It’s shock, anger, and maybe a bit of . . . relief.

Miles finally smiles. “Screw her,” he says, making me chuckle. “Based on the letter it sounds like screwing others is about all she does.”

I shake my head. “You’re a terrible person,” I tell him. The corner of my mouth lifts. Miles has always been the one who has a way with words.

“Well, this terrible person wants to celebrate. Let’s get out of this tomb.”

“Celebrate?” I ask incredulously.

“Yes. She’s one woman in a sea of millions. She isn’t even a catch. You dodged a bullet, and a hell of a lot of alimony down the road. Now, we’re on a mission to find someone who deserves you.”

At least I’m smiling. I knew bringing Miles back was a good idea. “You’re right. Let’s celebrate,” I tell him. I’m Mason Bennett; retired NFL superstar. Nothing will hold me down.

I toss the roses and chocolates in the garbage. The ring I’ll sell. I’m not foolish enough to throw it away. I might have money, but I have it because I’m not an idiot. We walk from the house together. I’m sure she thinks I’ll try to chase her. She’s wrong. I was proposing because I thought I needed to. That obligation’s now behind me. It’s time to move forward.

We head to our favorite noisy sports bar and soon have beer in our hands. He lifts his bottle. “To new beginnings.”

“To new beginnings,” I echo, the last of the weight lifting from my shoulders. I might’ve gotten a Dear John letter from Chelsea, but it really is a gift. I’m free and the world’s my oyster. There’s nothing stopping me from finding my new dreams in life now.

Chapter One

Maria

Five Years Later

There’s something about the sights, sounds, and smells of a good bar. This might not be a typical reaction to a Friday night on the town, but I’ve always enjoyed people watching, and there’s no better place, in my humble opinion, than a good bar to get a wide spectrum of interactions. The more people drink, the more fun the watching is.

I’ve seen hook-ups, break-ups, fights, and people coming together you’d never imagine becoming friends . . . if only for a night as they support their favorite team. When I’ve had a stressful day at work, I head straight to the bar and sit back in a corner and start taking notes.

I’m currently at the bar in the Gaylord Resort for the year’s biggest book conference of the season. I attend about ten conferences a year, and they’re usually a lot of fun. I get to meet with my favorite authors and other industry people, all with either a coffee or drink in my hand. My job can be stressful, but it’s also amazing, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.

Authors, editors, literary agents, models, and fans all mingle as one, their conversations a mix of gossip, story themes, and discussions about the latest bestsellers and viral takeoffs. I’ve been in this industry since I graduated college eight years ago and am the youngest senior editor at Seattle Skyline Publishing. I’m very proud of this.

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