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My heart aches at the thought of Roxy. I hope she feels the same way about me. But I won’t regret my decision to stay if she doesn’t. I meant every word of that speech. I love my club, and I love playing close to my family. But on the off-chance Roxy still wants me, maybe I could have it all. My dream—my new dream—is so close I can almost touch it. Deep down, I want to believe she loves me as much as I love her.
Questions are launched at me, and I answer on autopilot. Ashley and Taylor briefed me well, but all I can think about right now is finding Roxy and sharing the news with her.
At last, it’s over. I extract myself from behind the table and retreat backstage.
“I’m proud of you,” Ashley says, gripping my shoulders with a warm smile. “I hope you get everything you wish for.”
“Thanks, Ashley.” My heart is leaping in my chest.
“Now, go get your girl, mate!” Taylor adds, slapping my back. I don’t have to be told twice.
I hurry out of the building, avoiding everyone who tries to stop me to congratulate me. All I want is to find Roxy. Now. I mentally curse myself. Why didn’t I think this through? I could have told her earlier, and she could have been by my side right now. But no. I had to listen to Piper—who reads way too many romance novels—and go for the grand gesture thing. But Roxy isn’t a football fan. She probably didn’t even watch the press conference. It’s not like it’s broadcasted on national television or anything. It’s probably just on a handful of football magazine websites.
My blood is pumping in my forehead, threatening to burst my veins. I glance at my watch. It’s almost seven p.m. Chances are, she’s at her flat. Which is on the other side of town.
Minutes later, I’m drumming my fingers on the wheel of my car as I merge into London’s after-work traffic, chiding myself for not thinking this through. I take a deep breath and resist the urge to break traffic laws or blast my horn. Even if it takes me hours to get there, I’ll make it.
Either way, my life is going to change tonight.
Roxy
The tube car rattles and comes to a halt in a dark tunnel.
“Sorry, ladies and gents,” the operator’s voice blares through the speakers. “We’re being stopped ahead of the station to wait for the removal of an object on the tracks. We should be moving again shortly.”
I groan. This has to be a joke! I whip my head to look around, but no one seems to care about the delay, aside from a few people sighing quietly. Okay, I get it. Being stuck in the tube is not exactly an extraordinary occurrence, but why did it have to be today? I rest my elbows on my knees and bury my head in my hands. Why now? I’m trying to get my happy ending here, guys! Have some sympathy. Once again, the Universe is clearly not in my favour.
Then, it hits me, and I almost laugh out loud. What am I thinking? I’m the luckiest woman in the world. Wade Hunter just professed his love to me in front of a half dozen cameras. At least, I think he did. “The love of my life,” he said. That has to be me, right?
My chest constricts at the thought that he might have meant somebody else, but the feeling doesn’t linger. Deep down, I know. Because it’s exactly how I feel about him.
The train rattles again, departing with a screech. When it finally stops at the platform, I’m the first one out of the car. I run like a maniac through the busy station. At least all that time I spent at the gym wasn’t for nothing.
I reach his building sweaty and out of breath, but I don’t care. I’m pretty sure he’ll still want me. I ring his doorbell twice, refraining from jumping up and down as I wait for him to answer. Only he doesn’t. I try again. Nothing.
Damn it. He’s probably still at the press conference. Taking my phone out of my handbag, I perform a quick search. The conference ended almost an hour ago. Fine, I’ll just wait for him to come home. I lean against the white building, but my phone buzzes in my hand. Wade’s name flashes across the screen, making my heart swell.
“Wade!” I practically shout into my phone, which earns me a sour look from an old lady who’s dragging a shopping trolley.
“Roxy,” he says, sounding out of breath. “I’m at your place. Where are you? Did you see it?”
“I’m at your place,” I blurt through a laugh, shaking my head. “Yes, I saw.”
“What?” His laughter weaves with mine, his hearty laugh a bellowing rumble. “Okay, don’t move. I’ll be right there.”
When I hang up, the butterflies in my stomach are in full flight, and I savor every second of this feeling.
Time seems to slow down, and every passing minute is excruciating. My heart leaps in my chest every time a car turns onto the street. Since I’m in Central London, this happens quite often.
Finally, the familiar black sports car rolls around the corner. Wade double-parks along the sidewalk and hops out of the car.
As soon as his feet touch the pavement, I jump into his arms. His crisp, clean scent envelops me in a comforting blanket. He holds me tight and captures me in a kiss before I fall back onto my feet. I steady myself on his shoulders to avoid melting into a puddle on the ground.
“Are you sure it’s the right move? This is your career we’re talking about,” I say against his lips. “I know it’s important to you.”
He kisses me again, and I lose sense of where we are as I become enthralled in the softness of his lips. When we break apart, he lifts my chin. A glint shines in his metallic eyes. “You're more important.”
“Don't say that!” I pull back, hitting him on the torso. “What if it was a bad move?”
