Page 38 of Not a Perfect Save

“Noah Winters.” He holds out his hand.

My eyes widen. I know the name. He’s the billionaire owner of the team. Connor’s boss’s boss or something like that. Only then do I notice the voices in the room have stalled. People are straining to tune into our conversation.

We shake hands. “Um, it was my pleasure?” I’m too distracted to be fully coherent, and my cheeks heat at his perusal. “I hope to see you around here again, Ms. Dixon.” He grants both Rebecca and me a smile. “Good to see you again, Ms. Gerone.”

We watch, transfixed, as he mingles with a few other people before sauntering back out. There’s a noticeable shift in the energy in the owner’s box as he leaves. He probably has a superior vantage spot elsewhere, free from sycophants.

I get through the second half alternating between peeking through my fingers at the action on the field and distracting myself by planning dress patterns in my head. I even entertain other horrible thoughts and try to guess the color of the dress Hannah’s gotten me for the welcome party. Yellow, Yecru, Yaupe, and yuck are all in the running.

Three hours and twelve eons later, the game ends with a win for the Titans and I suck in my first full breath. Rebecca and I bundle into our coats and make our way down to wait by the locker rooms.

We’re celebratingthe win by going to Pinks, the players’ usual post-game spot. Logan, Jake, and Connor are already waiting, all freshly showered and clad in suits. Connor wore one during the press conference, but I’m only now able to appreciate the full effect. Mr. All-American Ken Doll, complete with a matching wardrobe—suit, football uniform, and my favorite, nothing at all.

“So, what did you think?” he asks, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

Rebecca answers for me. “She watched half the game with her hands over her eyes, she covered them whenever you got hit.”

Connor huffs out a laugh and drops his head to nuzzle the side of my neck. “So little faith.” His voice drops further, “And here I thought you were the brave one.”

My heart bursts. I haven’t been the brave one at all when it comes to him. It’s been false courage the entire time.

Heat touches my cheeks at all the inquisitive eyes of his friends on us. I already knew Connor was intensely private, so the fact that he’s so affectionate with me in public has to mean something, right?

I paste on an indifferent smile, still trying to make sense of the feelings rioting inside me. “Decent showing, Boy Scout. A little more effort and you might make a career out of it.”

The guys burst out laughing. Even Connor can’t hide his smirk. “You think?” His eyes gleam with barely concealed mirth.

“Damn, only you would end up with the coolest lady in a crisis,” Jake tells Connor before turning to me. “Do you need help escaping this loon? Blink once.”

I bark out a laugh and curl more tightly against Connor’s side. I let go of my fear and settle into the solid shelter of his arms. They fit me perfectly.

No, I don’t want to escape. Right now, this is exactly where I want to be.

Chapter Twenty-Four

ELLA

Everyone seemsto be taking their happy meds, and for once, I’m actually ahead. I’ve spent the day sketching new ideas, cutting patterns, and updating my website. I even have a new commission—a darling vintage Chanel that needs to be re-structured. My mind’s already walking the fashion district, imagining the right materials. Best of all, Hannah’s alterations are almost done. My mannequin is in her perfectly fitted outfit and ready to party, the arms positioned in the classic Saturday Night Fever pose—but with a middle finger extended instead.

I jump into Connor’s arms the moment he’s through the door, giving him only a second to catch me, which he does without staggering. I thread my fingers through his damp hair and tug him close to plant a big smack on his lips.

“Who are you and what have you done with Ella?” he asks. He gives me a kiss in return.

I lean back and stick my tongue out at him as he laughs, then sets me down.

“What do you want to order?” Connor already has the delivery app open on his phone.

“What about we go out instead?” My voice is bright and perky.

I follow Connor's eyes as he takes in the rain-spattered window.

Right.“It’s fine. A little rain never hurt anyone. Good for the constitution—that’s what my Nana always said.” The Nana I’ve never met because she died before I was born.

“Okay. If that’s what you want.” Connor slides a meaningful glance at the bedroom door then back at me.

Maybe we can put off going out just a little bit. Work off some of that excess energy now and build up an appetite for dessert…

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