Knot so Lucky (The holidates series Book 2)

Knot so Lucky: Chapter 31



crew

I’ve shaken more hands today than I can remember shaking all year. Not that I’m complaining because the Niners organization has welcomed me with open arms.

It’s everything I ever wanted. Except why does that sound sarcastic in my head?

TJ walks by and pats my shoulder as Nate nods his head at me. We’ve been separated for most of the week with different press obligations. So, I’m happy to finally see them.

“You good, man?” TJ greets, slapping my hand and giving me a dude hug.

The commotion from the press still settling into their seats draws my attention before I look back with an answer.

“Yeah, you know.” I run my hands through my hair. “I just hate these things. Especially since the news slow-leaked about the divorce. So it’s a matter of time before someone asks. Even when they’re not supposed to.”

Nate looks at TJ and then back to me. Goddammit, I hate it when they do this. I’d forgotten that this was the perk of not seeing them this week. Because that look was all too familiar.

“Don’t start,” I warn.

Nate puts his hand on the back of my chair, locking eyes with me.

“Start what? Reminding you of the fact that this will be aired all over the Bay? And maybe a certain area hottie might see it? All right. Sure. Mum’s the word.”

TJ pretends to be shocked, as if he’s sticking up for me.

“Come on, Nate. You act like he fell for the girl. Like maybe when pushed during a friendly game of spin the bottle, he kicked his best friends out of the house. If he did that, then he’d be real dickish, a total pain in the ass. And hooked on the girl. But he’s not that…right?”

They both stare at me the same way they’ve been doing for the last two weeks.

I let out a harsh breath and wrinkle my forehead.

“If you two don’t get your asses in your fucking seats and shut the hell up, I’m going to make sure that I tear up my contract so I can go back to the Raiders just for some peace.”

They laugh, looking up as things seem to be starting before tapping me on the back as they walk to their seats and sit.

Fuck. They’re the biggest pains in my ass because I don’t even want to talk about it.

I can’t. It feels like Eleanor’s consuming my mind more now than she was when we were together. And I need that chick out of my head.

I don’t need a distraction like this. Not right now. This is exactly why it doesn’t matter if I fell for the girl or if the girl fell for me. She was never a part of the plan. She knew that shit too. Eleanor got it.

Feedback from the microphone makes me jump. That’ll be a fucking meme. Great. A woman stands floor level, reaching up and adjusting it.

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry about that. First day on the job. These little buggers can be tricky. Can you do me a favor? Just hold this wire right here.”

What? I nod, not knowing what else to do, and hold the wire as she disappears below the table.

Where the fuck did she go? A few chuckles come from the pit, and I join before she pops back up. Whoa.

“Sorry again. I dropped the plug. Gosh, this is so embarrassing. I’m not even supposed to talk to you, but I’m a nervous rambler.”

Jesus Christ.

She inserts a plug into some port before she sniffs, looking up at me with surprise on her face. I must be looking back at her confused as fuck because she apologizes for the third time.

“Sorry. It’s just that I thought I smelled this shave cream that my old esthetician used to make. My sister took me to a salon once, and this angel fixed my skin right up. She’s actually opening a new salon. You should tell your wife about it. Didn’t you get married? Like last month?”

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

I know the look on my face is bewildered because come the fuck on. How am I being outed by the universe right now? Fuck you. I’ll keep that shave lotion if I want to.

My face shoots to my left because I can hear TJ laughing. He’s eavesdropping on my conversation. So, I discreetly shoot him the middle finger before turning back to the lady, lifting my hand to my cheek to hide what I’m saying.

“Yeah, I bet my wife would love the name of a good salon…what’s it called?”

Why are you asking, you fucking masochist.

“Wild Card. Cool name, huh? I think it opens next month… Okay, I’m all good.” She gives me a nod. “Have a great press conference.”

My hand drops as I nod, swallowing tight, before I put on a smile and look the exact opposite of how I feel—like I just got sacked by the tiniest defensive end I’ve ever met.

eleanor

“You’re officially no fun.”

My face lifts to my best friend, who’s sitting on my couch, shock and awe marring it. That’s a lie—I know I’m not fun right now, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be fun ever again.

“How dare you? I am so much fun. But I’m also an adult, and I have a ton of work to do before the opening of the salon. We started a whole-ass business, Millie.”

“First off, don’t act like you’ve been doing all the work. We split this list down the middle…fifty-fifty.”

I hold up a hand, stopping her from talking.

“Second off,” I snark. “I don’t want to hear the rest of this.”

Her hands find her hips as she stares at me like I’m being unreasonable. But what’s unreasonable is her undying need to find any reason to point out that I’m miserable.

I get it.

“Too bad,” she gripes, following me through my apartment into my kitchen, repeating the same tired list she’s lectured me about from the minute I came home.

“You’re never going to get over him until you admit what you did.”

I spin around, my jaw dropped, eyes wide.

“Millie. It was the right thing to do. You act like he was in love with me. We were fucking and playing house. That’s it! It’s like Sami said. And frankly, if he wanted to make a move, he has my fucking number.”

I lift my phone, swiping it open. “Oh look, no new messages.”

I swipe a cup off the counter and dunk it into the sudsy water in the sink.

“But did you tell him how you felt? No, you wrote a note like a Shakespearean Ted Bundy, strangling his heart just so he wouldn’t follow. You’re so scared. When did you become so scared of falling for someone?”

“Millie.” My voice is too loud. So I take a breath, dumping what’s in my hand into the sink.

Fuck you, broken dishwasher.

My eyes meet hers, and I speak calmly this time. “Crew and I are the ultimate right-person, wrong-time scenario. I’ve said this. I’m not afraid. I’m realistic. Did you see his press conference? He’s about to accomplish everything he’s always wanted. And I’m about to do the same. That takes focus. And relationships steal from you. I like him—yes. I still like him. But it’s over.”

Her palms smack on the counter as she lets out a growl.

“So then be the right person at the right time.”

My hands shoot into the air, carrying suds and water with them.

“I don’t control the time, Millie. I’m not the timekeeper of life.”

She rolls her eyes, digging her heels in.

“You absolutely control the time. It’s your decision. But you know what? Fine, if you want to feel like that, feel like that. But then stop moping around and come out with me tonight.”

The answer leaves me before I can catch it.

“Fine.”

God, I don’t mean it. I just want to shut her up.

“Good. Fine.”

Four hours later, I arrive at the pinned location Millie sent me. But as I open the door to the Irish tavern, I’m assaulted by a sea of red and gold.

“Jesus Christ, is she serious? This has to end. I’m going to kill her.”

I navigate through the crowd with more of a bouncer-style quality than I need, finding Millie almost immediately. But before I can say something I might regret, the panic on her face tells me she knew nothing about this.

“Oh god, you’re here. You didn’t get any of my texts, did you? I didn’t know. Everything was fine an hour ago, when you were supposed to be here…and then Niner Nation swarmed this place.”

I shake my head. “I didn’t get them, but it’s okay. Let’s go somewhere else though. Preferably somewhere not showing the preseason opener.”

She nods, calling the bartender to pay her tab as my eyes drift up and my heart stops.

On the television above the bar is a fleeting picture of us kissing outside the chapel before the camera switches to Crew.

He’s in full uniform, smiling and joking with TJ. The camera pans to his number—22. And the whole fucking bar erupts in cheers.

I’m starting to think that I must have fucked the universe’s boyfriend. Because payback is really feeling like a bitch.


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