Page 127 of Only Between Us

My silentI love you, too.

And he knows it, from the way Brooks fingers his jersey around the shape of the anchor, eyes soft but standing several inches taller.

“I’ll take good care of it” is all he says.

“I know you will.”

Another whistle sounds. Brooks leans in for a quick, hard kiss. “Good luck up there.”

“Good luck down there.”

Turning on my heel, I climb the steps to the first row of WAGs all chatting among themselves. Scan them again as though I expect a sign to appear above one of their heads that says,I’m the kind of woman who cheats on a guy like Brooks Attwood.

“You must be Cece!” The woman sitting at the end of the first row clears the seat next to hers to make room for me, flinging her designer purse to the ground like yesterday’s trash.

Are you her?

“I’m Monica—Cam Guerdy’s wife.”

My guard drops at the introduction, and I manage a smile. “It’s Siena, actually. Nice to meet you.”

“Siena.” Monica crosses her legs, bouncing a foot dressed in the most gorgeous strappy pink heel. “We were all just saying how excited we are to have Brooks around again! Most of us have been here since before he retired.”

“He was always so fun at team events,” the woman next to her pipes up.

“Thebestwith our kids,” a redhead behind me says. “Seriously, we’d all just put them in a room with Brooks and let him entertain them for the night. It was awesome.”

My smile is wide and genuine now, because I can picture it exactly. I watched him at the Huskies Tots and Touchdowns camp all those weeks ago. He loved them. They loved him.

He’s going to make the best dad.

“Ask any one of us, and we’ll tell you we hope he gets signed.”Monica pauses abruptly, smile slipping a fraction as though she’s just been caught saying something she shouldn’t.

“Really, Monica? You’re admitting that out loud?”

Monica widens her eyes at me before turning in her seat. I follow her gaze to the brunette woman three seats over, and I don’t need to ask.

I know it’s her.

She’s absolutely beautiful, with her luscious chestnut hair and deep brown eyes. Thick, perfect lashes. Immaculate makeup, so flawless I’d beg her for a tutorial if I didn’t automatically despise her.

Below us, the scrimmage has kicked off. I spot Brooks in his number nineteen jersey successfully luring a couple defenders, leaving his teammate open for a pass. Up here, though, it appears another type of battle is being waged.

Naomi turns a blank look my way before focusing on Monica. “You do realize Dougy’s trying out for the same spot on the team, right? You all know him, too. They left the same season.”

I take a deep breath.

I will be the bigger person.

“Of course.” I’ve only just met her, but I can tell Monica’s smile is less than genuine. “We all wish him the best of luck today.”

Damn.

Is that the WAG equivalent of a saltybless your heart? It wasn’t pointed at me, but I feel the gut punch as though it was. And I certainly see a couple of others fighting their smirks.

Safe to say that if there are teams in the Brooks versus Naomi battle, most of the women around me are decidedly Team Brooks. As they should be.

Me, though? Now that I’m here, now that I see her with my own eyes, feel the tension in the air… I want nothing to do with it.

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