Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
“Nope. Not kidding.”
She closed her eyes for a beat and beamed at me. “Jeeeee-sus. A man. I guess I’m not surprised. I always thought you were bi, but—”
“You did?”
“Yeah, I mean…I wasn’t sure. It was a feeling more than anything, but I didn’t know how to ask. We weren’t always good at communicating,” she said, her smile fading slightly.
“No, we weren’t.”
“You’re gone for him, aren’t you? I can tell. You’re blushing.”
“I’m not fucking blushing,” I griped, almost giddy with relief. Cool. Someone knew.
“You are, and I’m happy for you. What are you going to do? Will you come out?”
“Now? No. New team, new city, new season. I can’t.”
“But you want to,” she stated.
“Yeah, I do. Eventually.”
Alli grinned. “And then…move to Vermont and make maple syrup with your new beau? What does he do? What does he look like? Do you have a photo or—”
“No, no, no. He doesn’t make fucking syrup. He’s a logger…and a businessman.”
“A logger?” She widened her eyes. “Like a lumberjack?”
“Yeah.”
Alli fanned herself with her napkin. “I have to meet him and—”
“We’re not together, Al. It was a summer thing.”
She deflated like a sad birthday balloon at the end of a party. “I understand not coming out right away, but why can’t you be together?”
“Too complicated.”
Alli set a comforting hand on mine. “I don’t think that’s a good reason. You and I were simple. We liked the same things, came from the same backgrounds, our friends even got along. But we didn’t work. I think I bored you.”
“No, you didn’t,” I protested.
She pursed her lips and shrugged. “I’m not offended. And we know we’re better off apart. Liam, on the other hand, could not be any more complicated if he tried. I live in a fishbowl now. Those assholes over there have been staring and probably snapping pics of us for an hour. I’ll have to tell Liam about it so his team can counter any negative press with something sappy to let his fans know he still loves me, so they don’t think I’m in love with my ex. It’s insane.”
“Sounds like it.”
“But I love Liam. I don’t know if it’s a forever thing or for now, but I’m happy and he’s happy and…that works for me.” She let go of my hand. “I know it’s different for you, but you deserve to be happy too.”
“Thanks. Let’s just…”
“Drop it? Okay. I will. Just know that I’m one thousand percent behind you.” Alli smiled and barreled on in a rush. “I have news I’ve been dying to share.”
“You’re pregnant.”
“Fuck, no! I want a rock on my finger before that happens, honey. No, this is short-term fun. Liam is filming a movie in Boston through September and I’m staying with him. We’ll be at all your games. Both of us. I can already tell that the PR geniuses will say I can’t go on my own or the world will think you and I are getting back together…exhibit A, this lunch. I’ll get hate mail and death threats and—”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. I thought I fucking escaped you in LA,” I groused.
Alli scoffed. “It doesn’t matter where we live, Si. They’ll follow.”
She wasn’t kidding.
Fans were rabid about my ex and her Hollywood hunk. Throw a pro football player in the mix and somehow, the world went nuts.
My ex-wife had gone from nights spent watching Parks and Rec reruns and eating Chinese takeout with me to attending the Met Gala in a gown that cost a small fortune. Paparazzi haunted their hotels and every dining establishment they graced.
They took long-range photos of Alli in parking garages, coffee shops, and nail salons. They commented on her clothes, her hair, her shoes, her mannerisms. Frowning at an annoying text from a telemarketer might indicate trouble in paradise in the eye of a camera and give celeb news junkies something to spin over for a few days until the happy couple made a joint appearance.
Needless to say, our innocent lunch in August went viral. And Alli had called it. PR insisted that a united front would quiet salacious gossip. In September, Hollywood’s hottest duo were regulars at every fucking Boston game.
The owner, GM, and coaches loved the media attention. Boston’s fans didn’t mind it either, though they would have preferred a less rocky start to the season. I wasn’t sure how my new teammates felt, but my old ones had big opinions. At least Vally did.
WTAF! Why didn’t they just come to our fucking games? We need you, asshole. I can’t believe you’re in fucking Boston. Also, check out Gigi’s new jersey. Cute, huh? Miss you, man.
Life was strange. I’d moved to the other side of the country to rewrite my ending and cash in on some press. It was bigger than ever, and unlike last year, I had a say in the narrative, so…that was a positive.