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“Since yesterday?” She asks, purposefully oblivious.
“You know what I meant,” I say with a roll of my eyes.
She shrugs and studies the glass in her hands. "I moved to Dallas, went to school, and I started my marketing firm. There's not much else to tell."
"I noticed there's no ring… not that that matters, just--" I rub the back of my neck. God, was it always this hard to talk to her?
I can count the flecks of gold in her hazel eyes as she slowly lifts them to meet mine. "No ring," she agrees. "I don't have a lot of time to date. My company takes up most of my life… but you've certainly had your fair share of high-profile girlfriends...models, actresses…"
Is that where all this tension is coming from? Isshethe one who's jealous? I turn to fully face her, taking a small step closer. “Izzy, you know all those tabloids are full of shit, right? I mean—you work in marketing.”
She arches a brow. “I’m not sure if I should be offended by that…”
“Look, I’ll admit, I’m no saint, but it’s not half as bad as the media makes it sound. Besides, that’s why I’m here now. I left all my partying in New York. I’m here to focus on the game, and put down some roots… so to speak.” I take a sip of my drink while I wait for her to respond.
She takes a hefty sip of her own champagne, looking like she’s thinking hard about something. I instantly feel like I’ve said the wrong thing, yet again. Desperate to distract her, I point to the other side of the terrace where a few couples are dancing near the string quartet. Yes, there is an actual string quartet at this gala, like we’re on the freaking Titanic. Rich people, man. Even I don’t understand my own tax bracket.
I watch the couples swaying. Dancing on a terrace seems a bit cheesy, but with Isabella beside me, I can see the appeal. Besides, it would be criminal to waste that gorgeous dress. So, I hold out a hand. “Dance with me?”
She rolls her eyes. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to make up for prom.” She instantly looks like she regrets saying that.
She tries to turn away, but I tug on her hand and pull her along. “Come on, loosen up, Rossi. I don’t remember you being such a hard ass.”
She narrows her eyes. “Has it ever occurred to you, that I just don’t like you?”
No, that really hadn’t occurred to me. Everyone likes me… including her, once upon a time. “What did I do?” I ask as we walk. “You liked me just fine back in high school. In fact…” I lean into her space, close enough that I can smell the perfume she put on when she got ready for the night. I stop walking. “I remember lots of things you used to like.” I reach up and ghost a finger along her cheek and down the gentle curve of her neck. I’m not sure what has come over me. This definitely doesn’t align with her earlier bid to be professional… and I already crossed the line with that kiss, but being within ten feet of her makes my body react in a way it hasn’t to any other woman in years. She truly takes my breath away, which is something I thought people only said to be romantic.
Izzy sucks in a breath, those hazel eyes falling closed as I trail my finger over her bare shoulder to the spot where her dress drapes over her upper arm. “We can’t,” she says, barely a whisper. Her eyes open again and find mine.
“Just a dance, Iz. That’s all I’m asking for.”
While she stares at me, her eyes cloud with the same heat I can feel in my own. She gives an almost imperceptible nod and allows me to lead her toward the other dancing couples. I pull her against me and slowly start to move with her to the soft strings.
She doesn’t rest her head on my shoulder, doesn’t break eye contact. In fact, she just watches me like she’s trying to solve an equation in trigonometry. There is something different about her, but I just can’t put my finger on it. She’s got this wariness about her, like she’s been through the unimaginable. I wish I could ask her about it, but I know she wouldn’t tell me if I did.
Having her in my arms feels nice, though. How many times had I longed to dance with her? At high school dances? Homecoming, prom… but I was too afraid to ask her out back then. She was Evan’s baby sister. Evan was this genius, great family, money… and I knew I’d never be good enough for their little girl. I was a kid from a broken home, with an alcoholic father. What did I have to offer? This was the real driving force that propelled me through those first couple years in the NFL and helped me achieve all the success, fame and fortune that came along with it. It was all to one day be good enough for someone as worthy as her. I never again wanted to feel like I wasn’t good enough, like I had nothing to offer.
I’ve always wondered what might’ve happened if I’d been braver… or if she’d stayed, instead of running away. There’s no use wondering what if. We both made mistakes, but maybe it just wasn’t our time back then. We’re here now, in the present, and that’s the only thing I want to focus on.
I lower my lips to her ear, breathing in the scent of her hair. “You’re even more gorgeous now than you were back then.”
Her fingers flex against my dinner jacket. She takes in a sharp breath that makes my own grip on her hips tighten. “You’re not looking so bad yourself.”
“I still think about that night,” I whisper against the shell of her ear, “and how badly I wanted to do it again.”
This, it appears, is the wrong thing to say. She presses her palms against my chest, pushing away from me. “I’m sorry. This was a mistake, I have to go.” She starts for the door, moving so fast, I have to push my way through the crowd just to keep her in my sight.
“Izzy, wait! What did I say?” I catch up with her near the valet stand in the front driveway. “What’s wrong? Why are you acting like we had some huge falling out? Aren’t you glad to see me again? I’m glad to see you.”
She pinches the bridge of her nose. “I just—I shouldn’t have agreed to dance with you. I don’t want to give you the wrong impression. I’m not looking for a relationship.”
“Are you seeing someone?” I ask, realizing it would crush me if she was.
“It wouldn’t matter either way. We would never work. We didn’t work in high school and we don’t now. We never will. Goodnight, Nathan.” The valet pulls her jeep up to the curb.
“You never even gave us a chance to work!” I shout, but she’s gone without another word and I stand there, watching her peel out of the parking lot in her white Jeep like she’s fleeing a crime scene.
I just can’t for the life of me understand what happened between us that was so bad. The one night we spent together was a fucking revelation. It completely ruined me for the women who came after. Izzy felt the same way, at least I thought she did, but then she just, vanished.
