Page 57 of Trust Me With Forever

His words hit me. “Oh, so you’re going to be yourself this time?” He nodded, and I asked, “Are you nervous?”

He shrugged. “Yes and no. Not because I miss that life—because it was fucking exhausting—but I don’t want the press to tear you apart.”

I reached over and took his hand again. “Don’t worry about me, Rafe. I’m made of stronger stuff.”

“I know you are. And yet, you shouldn’t have to suffer because of me.”

Maybe his words were a throwaway comment. Or maybe he was trying to play the nice husband, to practice for when we were in public.

And yet, at the sincerity blazing in his gaze, I swallowed the tightness in my throat.

If only I could truly believe he would be there for me, wanted the best for me, and wouldn’t leave me at the first sign of trouble.

Don’t ruin the trip. He went to a lot of trouble, and youareexcited to see Manchester and maybe do a little sightseeing.

So I pushed aside my doubt, at least for now, and said, “Thank you, Rafe. But I knew you were famous, especially here, when I agreed to our bargain. I’ll just be the charming American, not the annoying type, and it’ll be fine.”

“Oh no, you’re not going to buy a cowboy hat and suddenly develop a southern twang, are you? Not that I have anything against either one, but it’s not you. And the world deserves to see the real you.”

I nearly asked why he kept saying such nice things, but resisted and shook my head. “No, I plan to be me. Well, mostly me. I’m not sure if dancing in public will go over well for either of our images.”

He grinned. “I’d love to see it. Especially if you want to go to a match while we’re here.”

I squealed. “Really? We can see a Dragons’ game?”

“Yes, if you want. Although it’ll have to be in a private area as being in the stands could be dangerous. Some people will loveme, and others will still blame me for that one championship match we lost five years ago.”

“That wasn’t your fault! That French player tripped you and the ref was blind. I still can’t believe he missed it!”

Rafe smiled. “You really did follow my games, didn’t you?”

I should say no, but I nodded. “When I was younger, it was because of that childhood crush. However, it only took a few games before I saw how fast-paced and interesting soccer was, and soon became a fan. It was hard to watch some of the matches because of the time difference, though. The internet helps with replays, but I always wanted to watch you live. It got me into trouble a few times when I stayed up late, but once Aunt Lori learned about it, she would stay up to cheer you on with me.” I dramatically lowered my voice. “Although she’s always had a thing for the Dragons’ goalie in recent years instead of you. But don’t tell her I told you that.”

Rafe laughed. “Your secret is safe with me. And James has a lot of admirers, for sure. Probably because of that perfect smile of his.”

“Don’t sound so grumpy. I never noticed his smile.”

Damn.Had I really said that?

Before Rafe could reply, the flight attendant returned, and we were soon ushered off the plane and had to deal with customs.

Thankfully, it was one in the morning and very few people were arriving at the same time as us, and we went through quickly.

I kept staring at the Manchester stamp as we collected our luggage. Eventually Rafe whispered, “I wish we had time to visit some more countries, but I can only be away from the training facility for a few days right now. However, we can come back, if you want to, Abigail. Just say the word, and as soon as my schedule clears up a little, we’ll go wherever you want.”

Looking up, I saw the truth in Rafe’s gaze. “Thank you.”

He leaned down, and I thought he might kiss me. However, he cleared his throat and gestured. “This way. A car will take us to my home and we need to go to sleep soon so we can get used to the time difference. In the late morning, we’ll go shopping and then I’ll take you on a tour of Prestwich Stadium afterward, if you like.”

Prestwich was the home of the Manchester Dragons. “Can we? I’ve always wanted to walk on the pitch. Maybe even kick a soccer ball around. Oh, but your knee.”

“It’s fine. I can handle a few friendly kicks. Just don’t expect me to make a mad dash down the field and do some kind of dramatic goal score.”

Part of me was sad he couldn’t do that any longer. And not just because watching him play live would’ve been one of my fantasies come to life. Well, when you included him finishing the game, all sweaty and in need of a shower, and we headed to the locker room…

Stop it, Abby. Not going to happen.

Instead, I smiled at him. “Thanks, Rafe. I can’t wait! I just hope I can fall asleep.”

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