Page 73 of Houston, We Have a Problem
That makes it far more difficult to say what I say next. “I have to go to Albuquerque for work tomorrow.”
He frowns. “Albuquerque? Really? What kind of work?”
I probably should have given him a job that actually existed rather than telling him some vague nonsense that technically applies to journalism if you think really hard. I control a lot of data every time I do an interview. But I do my best to offer up some sort of explanation that isn’t the truth—that I’m going to be interviewing the putter designer. “We have some people in Albuquerque, and I have some training I need to do.” Technically it’s true. Connor wants me to test out a new camerawoman who has applied to work at Enhance and happens to be from Albuquerque.
Houston’s eyebrows dip as he considers what I said. “But that’s, like, three hours away. You’re going by yourself?”
“I do things by myself all the time.”
His expression saddens, and he grabs my hand like he worries about letting me go. “But you don’t have to.”
“Houston.” I brush my hand along his jaw. How is he real? “It’s just a business trip. I’ll only be gone tomorrow and Saturday.”
That doesn’t help the puppy-dog look he’s giving me. “You’re going to miss the Scorpions’ game? I was hoping you could come again this week.”
That was never going to happen. Not when he’s planning on Tamlin running her story on him coaching the team. No face masks could get me to be in the same place twice. Still, I really hate disappointing him like this when he isn’t shy about telling me how much he wants me there. But what can I do? Nothing except tell him the truth, and I haven’t found my story yet. Nor do Iactuallywant to lose my job, no matter how much I like him. If not for my contract…
He drops his head when he realizes my unavailability probably isn’t going to change no matter how much he begs. “So I have to wait until Sunday to see you again?”
How is a man who is paid millions to throw a ball at insane speeds this cute? “Let’s not go crazy,” I say, leaning up on my toes and putting myself within prime kissing distance again. “I’ll be back Saturday night. You can last two days, right?”
He moans and then claims my mouth yet again, leaving me feeling like the most valuable person in the world. Every place he touches lights on fire, yet his hands are impossibly gentle as he works hard to make me forget that we both need to go to bed. Who needs sleep? I need to explore this man’s mouth and never leave his side.
Houston is the one to find the will to walk away again, though I can see in his eyes that he really doesn’t want to. He walks the few steps to his own back door, never taking his eyes off me. “Goodnight, Darcy. Don’t forget me when you’re in Albuquerque.”
I grin. “You’re such a dork. Goodnight, Hou.”
As I head upstairs to get ready for bed, I can’t help but imagine a future where I don’t have to say goodnight to Houston Briggs because I’m not leaving his side. I don’t know if I could ever find a better man than him, so why would I ever look farther than next door?
This has been one of the best nights of my life, and nothing could dampen my mood.
Right as I climb into bed, I get a text from a number I don’t recognize.
Unknown Number: So, are you going to tell him, or am I?
Well, spam has certainly gotten creepier recently. But right before I’m about to set my phone on the nightstand and go to sleep, hopefully to dream about Houston, another text makes my stomach drop.
Unknown Number: Houston deserves better than someone who can so easily lie to him about who she is.
I swallow, all of the happiness from what happened on the porch dissipating with these words. I don’t know who figured out my secret, but whoever they are, they might ruin things before I’m ready. What if they tell Houston before I can find a way to explain why I’ve been lying to him without actually telling him the truth and breaking my contract?
I don’t know if it even matters. Houston and I were never meant to be endgame. But that doesn’t make the ache in mychest go away, nor does it do anything to dim the tingling sensation in my lips that lingers even now.
But the anonymous texter is right. Houston deserves better, and I have to let him go before I hurt us both. I’m just not sure I can.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Houston
November 1
“Briggs!”
I snap to attention, lifting my mitt just in time to avoid a ball hitting me in the ribs. It’s the third time in the last hour that I’ve zoned out, and the guys are starting to notice. Hopkins looks ready to hit me in the side of the head with a bat, and Badir is practically glaring at me from behind home plate.
I shake my head, but it only moderately clears thoughts of Darcy from my mind. I knew it was going to be hard to concentrate on practice today, but I didn’t think I would be this lost.
With the number of women I’ve kissed over the years, last night shouldn’t have been a big deal. But it was. I’ve never talked with someone like that in my life, and it felt like I was laying myself bare and asking Darcy to hold my heart for me because I have nothing left to protect it. No shields or walls that she hasn’t broken through. And the way she kissed me…
