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“Also not sure, but probably not,” I said softly. “It’s my home.”

My job, my friends, my life were all in London. But would I feel the same way if Noah no longer lived there? Seven years seemed far away, but time had a way of passing in the blink of an eye.

“Makes sense.” Noah’s face was unreadable.

Our conversation soon shifted to Scarlett and Asher’s upcoming wedding. We hadn’t had time to plan much yet because of the tournament, but I had a sense he was as eager to talk about something else as I was. Neither of us wanted to examine the implications of our questions too closely, but the silver lining was that we didn’t have to. Not yet.

After lunch, Simon took us to a lookout with a fantastic view of the park. He insisted on taking couple photos of us, and we obliged, wrapping our arms around each other and smiling in front of the endless savanna.

“Noah, step a little closer…Perfect. Right there!” Simon snapped away, obviously delighted. If he wasn’t a guide, he’d make a killing as a photographer. “Carina, tilt your face up an inch or so more. I want to make sure the light hits the right spots.”

I did as he asked. Noah’s arm tightened around my waist, and I could tell he was holding back a laugh at Simon’s increasingly specific instructions. The late afternoon sun cast a golden haze over the landscape, softening his features and making the scene look like something out of a dream. When a breeze blew a strand of hair in my eyes, he brushed it aside, his knuckles grazing my cheek. It was a simple gesture, but it made my heart ache in the best way.

I wasn’t sure what the future held for us, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. The present was perfect, and that was enough.

Our excursion ended after sunset. When he dropped us off at our lodge, Simon handed me his business card and told me to contact him if I had any additional questions about being a guide. I’d accepted it gratefully while Noah slipped him a huge tip. He deserved it. He’d been fantastic—friendly and knowledgeable yet accessible in the way he’d explained things. I hoped I could be as good as him one day.

I stretched my arms and legs, savoring the delicious ache of my muscles after a full day of activities. Noah was taking a shower, and I was lounging in our bed while I waited for my phone to charge. I’d drained its battery hours ago from taking so many videos and photos, and I’d forgotten to bring my portable charger on the drive.

Once I saw the screen flip from the charging icon to its normal wallpaper, I grabbed it from the nightstand and unlocked it to find…seventy new messages?

“Something crazy must’ve happened at the England match today,” I called out. The shower had turned off, and I heard Noah moving around the bathroom. “My group chat’s blowing up.” I opened the texts to see what the fuss was about.

“Yeah?” Noah stepped out, a towel slung around his waist. “Did they win?”

Now that the US was out of the World Cup, we were both rooting for England to bring it home. But the tournament was the last thing on my mind at the moment.

“Carina?” he prompted when I didn’t answer. “What happened?”

I stared at my phone, my mind refusing to process what I was seeing. My limbs had gone numb, and concrete blocks piled up in my stomach as the words swam before my eyes.

No. Nononononono. This couldn’t be happening.

“Carina, baby, talk to me.” Noah’s concern morphed into noticeable alarm when I remained silent. He walked over, and I shoved my phone at him, unable to speak.

I watched his face tighten, then darken in real time as he absorbed the headlines blazing across the screen. Scarlett and Brooklyn had sent me the links hours ago along with a dozen frantic texts, none of which I’d answered yet.

Football icon Noah Wilson spotted canoodling with mystery woman in South Africa!

Out of the tournament and into scandal: Did Wilson’s love life cost the US the World Cup?

Blackcastle keeper’s secret romance exposed: Mystery woman identified as his daughter’s NANNY!

It was an endless onslaught from both the British tabloids and the slightly more reserved American media. In the US, Noah was a sports star whose love life was a point of interest but not the story of the week. There were far greater scandals in Hollywood, and most Americans didn’t care much about football.

In the UK, however, this was tabloid gold. Him dating his nanny wasn’t a huge deal in the grand scheme of things, but the media had a way of blowing things out of proportion. He’d guarded his privacy fiercely and had been squeaky-clean for years. Now that they’d found something to sink their teeth into, they weren’t going to let go, and they were twisting every detail to make our relationship seem more scandalous than it was.

“The girls said the news broke a few hours ago when a video of us at Boulders Beach went viral.” My voice sounded thin and strained. “It must’ve been one of the tourists. I don’t know why they waited so long to post it. We weren’t kissing or anything, but people started digging, the media caught wind of it, and…” I swallowed the panic burning in my throat.

Noah was terrifyingly still. The playful warmth from earlier had turned into pure ice. I shivered, my skin prickling with goose bumps. It was so quiet I could hear the call of a hyena in the distance.

I couldn’t figure out what to do with my hands. I wanted to touch him, to comfort him, but he looked so brittle I was afraid he might shatter beneath my touch. I didn’t even care that my identity had been leaked to the press. I cared about how this would affect Noah and, most importantly, Evie. Had she seen the news? If not, what would she think once she did? Would she hate me for bringing chaos to her dad’s life? Would she hate us for keeping our romance a secret from her? She was in Michigan for the summer, but would she get harassed by the press once she returned to London?

And Noah. I couldn’t imagine what was going through his head right now. If I was freaking out, he must be spiraling. All he’d ever wanted was a private, peaceful life, and that had suddenly been ripped from him.

We should’ve been more careful. Although our friends knew about our relationship, we trusted them to be discreet. The same couldn’t be said for strangers, but I’d foolishly thought we could sneak under the radar in South Africa. It was thousands of miles away from the UK, and the distance had given me a false sense of security.

We’d failed to account for the fans who’d also be here for the tournament. Noah’s disguises only went so far, and any one of them could’ve spotted us. They didn’t have to act out of malice. They could’ve taken the video because they were excited to spot a famous footballer in the wild and not thought twice about the consequences.