Page 70 of Her Football Star Ex

I would normally try to play down just how much I was still attracted to her, but there was just something about seeing her chatting with another man tonight that had me rethinking my whole strategy.

Since she seemed to be accepting compliments right now, I just went for it. “Yes, Emerson. You definitely look okay.” And then because I was throwing all caution to the wind, I took my eyes off the road for a quick moment to take her in. “Better than okay.”

“Better than okay?” She raised an eyebrow, and the smile on her lips told me she liked hearing that.

I nodded. “You know I think you’re gorgeous. Even if we aren’t married anymore, that’s never going to change.”

She gave me a soft, quiet look, where she seemed to study me. And I suddenly felt self-conscious under her scrutiny.

What did she think when she looked at me?

Did she still find me attractive?

Or had what I’d done to her ruined all my previous appeal?

I held my breath as I waited for her to say what she was thinking.

And after what seemed like a really long moment, she said, “You look really good too, Vincent.”

My heart started beating again.

So at least I hadn’t lost everything.

I rubbed my hand along my scruffy face that hadn’t been shaved for a few days. “Even with this?”

“That’s always been my favorite look on you,” she said, her voice softer than it had been a moment ago.

Okay, now my heart was beating fast.

And when I glanced her way, I imagined I did see some attraction in her eyes in the moonlight.

Man, she was beautiful. Just looking at her made my insides constrict.

I cleared my throat. “I was kind of worried that after what happened at my house last month that you might think I looked like a big, scary Sasquatch today.”

“No.” She shook her head slowly. “I don’t think you’re scary at all. I was just caught off guard by everything.”

I swallowed. “I’m sorry there was a reason for it to happen in the first place.”

She nodded. “I know.”

We were quiet for a while as we drove down the highway, passing snow-covered spruce trees. I thought about turning on the radio to give us something to listen to but decided not to. It was nice being able to sit comfortably in silence with someone else, lost in thoughts.

“Remember what we were talking about the last time we drove down this road together?” she asked, her voice somewhat melancholy.

Was she talking about when I’d said I hoped she’d be able to forgive me some day? Because I didn’t want to bring that up if that wasn’t it.

But I also didn’t want her to think that I didn’t remember our conversations. We’d obviously had some communication issues in the past and I didn’t want her to think I hadn’t been paying attention then.

I said, “Are you talking about when I said I hoped you’d be able to forgive me someday?”

She nodded, and when I glanced her direction, it looked like she was holding in some emotions. So I braced myself for whatever she was about to say.

She released a shaky breath, as if nervous, and then she looked at me again. “I think I realized today that I have forgiven you.”

My heart froze and I blinked my eyes a few times, not sure I’d heard her right. And when I turned to her with my mouth open, I knew I must look shocked.

Because I was.

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