Page 62 of Big Balls
The three men enter the ballroom then, and I swear they arrive in slow motion. The world pauses to let them make their entrance.
Sebastian in a tuxedo, but white tie, because he’s extra like that. On the right is Donovan Tate, his hair up in a messy bun and a black leather suit, some sort of spiked collar around his neck instead of a regular bowtie. And then in the middle, the fastest hands in the league and the main source of heartache in my relatively short life—Ethan Alexander.
The buzz of conversation at the other tables picks up in volume when the men arrive, and I even see a few people taking pictures with their phones. Gross. I know how much it cost to get in here tonight, and there’s not a single person here who couldn’t afford to take the time and ask.
I’ve never heard Ethan tell a fan no about a photo or an autograph. But instead, these people are simply taking that from him, without his permission.
It doesn’t seem to bother him at all, though. Maybe the positive reception to his interview with Alicia Cuthbert has made it easier for him to deal with being in the public eye.
It’s none of my business anyway. He can do whatever he wants to with whoever he’s with tonight.
Yes, he’d RSVP’d with a plus one, and it had killed me to see it. Was this the right person that he found it easy to fall in love with? I couldn’t tell if I wanted to scream or throw up.
Instead, I fastened my most professional smile on and went to meet the guys. Tate gave me a hug, then passed me to Sebastian, who kissed the back of my hand and stared into my eyes like he wanted to devour my soul.
I couldn’t tell if he was doing it to fuck with me or Ethan, but I guess either way it worked.
Ethan Alexander was staring at me like he’d seen a ghost. More specifically, like I was the Ghost of Girlfriend Past come back to haunt him for his misdeeds.
Except I’d never been his girlfriend, so that couldn’t be it either.
My smile tightened until I felt like my jaw might crack. “It’s good to see you, Mr. Alexander.”
He shook his head, then turned to the rest of the guys, giving them a glare that told me immediately he hadn’t known I was going to be here tonight.
“Zoe,” he says, then cracks his knuckles.
I sigh. “Later, okay? Not here at the event I helped organize.”
He pauses, then turns his entire body toward me. “What did you say?” His tone is light, but even I can hear the undercurrent of bodily harm in those four little words.
I force my shoulders to relax. “I got a job with The Autism Society of Greater New Orleans. I handle event planning and fundraising for them.”
Ethan’s eyes rake over Sebastian’s face. “Well, imagine that. Here you are, in New Orleans, working for a nonprofit that one of my best friends is on the freaking board for, and yet nobody thought it would be worth mentioning.”
His glare snagged Tate and Jackson in its wrath. “It’s almost as if the guys who are supposed to be my best friends were keeping it from me. On purpose. But how weird would that be, right?”
Okay, we are officially too close to having an actual fist fight in the ballroom. I reach out and put my hand on one of his fists, gently touching him to remind him about where we are and what we’re supposed to be doing.
“Why don’t you let me show you to your table? I don’t believe your date is here yet.” I’m extremely proud of myself for managing this second sentence without even a hint of sarcasm or pettiness.
Because really, I do want the man in front of me to find happiness and love in his life, even if that isn’t with me. Ethan Alexander deserves every possible good thing, including finding someone who fits exactly into his life and loves Katy as much as he does.
No matter how much I wish it had been me, the timing wasn’t right for us. And that’s going to have to be okay because it’s already happened, and no amount of wishing things were different is going to be enough to undo the what-ifs and could-have-beens between us.
I take Ethan by the hand and lead him to his reserved table near the front of the stage. The head of the charity is here, and I make sure to introduce him to Ethan.
And then I slip away while they’re talking, because even though I am a badass, I’m not badass enough to stand and watch while Ethan’s date arrives to sit next to him.
I make myself as busy as possible and as far away as possible from the front table. The army of WAGs doesn’t relent even for a minute, keeping a keen eye on the seating and the starting of the first few rounds.
Hors d’oeuvres are passed to the tables, coffee and cocktails are handed around, and a pleasant buzz of excitement sings in the room.
I check in with my family, and they are having a blast. I made them sit with a few of the players and they are all talking football, because of course they are. I’m fairly certain they have completely forgotten about how they’re supposed to be playing poker right now because they’re arguing about a call that was made in the last game that was super controversial.
I kiss my dad on the head and head toward the back room to see if there’s some way I can avoid facing Ethan any more tonight.
The extra little conference room we’ve been using as a staging area-slash-office has little stacks of table swag everywhere, and it’s a mess. I sit down and run my hands through a box of Mardi Gras beads that are in the colors of the foundation’s logo.
