Change of Hart (29 page)

“Hey . . . don’t make fun of the chips,” I joked, unbuttoning my shirt. I was about done with this monkey suit. “And don’t worry about me. Now that I can just sit on the couch, I will be just fine for a while longer. What are we watching, anyway?”

“Oh!” Sara said excitedly. Elaine and I exchanged a knowing glance. “There’s this new Nicholas Sparks movie out . . .”

“NO!” Elaine and I said in unison.

Sara crinkled her nose and her jaw dropped open in shock. Although, she shouldn’t have been too shocked. We had this conversation every time. “You guys are just mean! How come we never watch what I want to watch?”

“Because you always fall asleep during the movie,” Elaine replied without missing a beat.

“Seriously, how did you get into the movie business when you can’t even stay awake during one?” I asked her.

Sara stood up and stomped off toward the hallway, grumbling the whole time about why she was even friends with us, and other such injustices.

“You already got a movie, didn’t you,” I asked Elaine.

She snorted like it was a ridiculous question. “Of course I did. You think I’m gonna sit through some crappy movie while she sleeps?”

“What’d you get?”

“Did you see that new action flick yet? That one with those alien-looking things?”

“Nope. It was on my list.”

“Perfect,” she said, opening a box of popcorn. “I put your stuff in the first bedroom on the left. She’s been using it as an office, but there’s a queen-sized bed in there so you should be ok. You’ll have to sleep at an angle though, unless you don’t mind your feet dangling off.”

“Thanks, Elaine,” I said as I made my way to the bedroom to change. Thankfully, I had an extra pair of running shorts and a t-shirt with me since I hadn’t planned to stay an extra day. By the time I was changed and back out in the living room, the girls had already settled themselves on the couch and were munching on popcorn. I plopped down on the couch next to Sara and grabbed a handful while Elaine lifted the remote and pressed play.

This is what we did whenever we got together. We lounged around and ate a bunch of junk food. Years ago, some dumb reporter had mentioned the three of us having a “private party” and speculated about what kinds of things were really going on. We all got a good laugh about it so the phrase kind of stuck. Now, whenever one of us mentioned getting together to “party,” we knew it was time to break out the cookie dough and Sara’s footie pajamas.

No, it wasn’t terribly manly. But I didn’t see them very often so it was nice to just hang out and relax. Besides, Elaine and I had the same taste in movies and two against one meant we always had the majority vote.

Thirty minutes into the world of guns and explosions and I looked down to see Sara asleep, her head on Elaine’s lap, her feet on mine.

I looked over at Elaine who apparently had just noticed Sleeping Beauty as well.

“Every time,” I said with a smirk.

“Every time,” she repeated in agreement, taking another handful of popcorn and turning back to the movie.

I
had wanted to try to reach Addison again last night, but by the time the movie was over it was two o’clock in the morning. That’s one a.m. at home. On a work night. So I figured I’d call her when I woke up.

As I peeled my eyes open, I could see some light flurries outside the window. Gotta love the first day of December in NYC. I rolled over to glance at the clock.

10:00.

Time to get up and at ‘em if I was gonna make my flight. No telling how long it would take to get to La Guardia if the snow got any thicker.

I grabbed my phone, hoping I could catch Addison on her way to work. Instead, I found twelve missed calls and three text messages. I darted up in bed and started reading.

Mom: Jason, honey, I don’t know what’s going on. But I hope it’s not what it looks like. Call me when you can. I love you.

What? What’s she talking about?

Lindsay: Jay, I love you. But you are SUCH a fucking douchebag! I have NEVER been so disappointed in you. I’ll stop leaving you nasty messages when you call me back so I can say it directly to you!

Oh shit. What happened now?

Adam: Relax. I’m on it.

Once I read Adam’s text, I knew I was in deep shit. Something was going on and I needed to find out what. I threw the covers back and stood up, pulling up the internet on my phone as I headed out toward the kitchen. Before I even made it out the bedroom door, the first picture from my google search popped up.

It was of me and Sara. And her kissing me on the lips as I grabbed her.

The second was from the restaurant. We were both leaning over the table toward each other, smiling and holding hands.

And then, of course, a picture of me kissing her knuckles at the table.

Fuck.

I dialed Addison’s number, frantic to reach her, but it went straight to voicemail. No ring. Just voicemail.

“Sara! Elaine!” I yelled toward the kitchen as I made my way down the hall. They were both sitting at the breakfast bar working on their laptops. Sara was sipping on a cup of coffee. Elaine was typing away at a rapid pace.

“Good morning, Sunshine,” Sara cooed at me. I ignored her.

“Did you see this?” I asked, holding up my phone so she could see the photo collage someone had made of us with all the pictures from last night.

She squinted her eyes until she recognized what she was looking at.

“Oh yeah. The paps are still downstairs,” she shrugged.

“What?” I said, running toward the window. Sure enough, there were about a dozen photographers milled about. “FUCK!”

“Jason, this happens every time,” Elaine said in her no-nonsense manager voice. I have no idea how she and Adam could stay calm when things like this happened. “Adam and I already put out our usual generic statements. Why are you freaking out?”

I sighed, trying to calm myself down. After a few deep breaths, I looked up at Elaine.

“I forgot about meeting up with Sara until after the game yesterday,” I started, putting my hands on my hips. “I’ve been trying to reach Addison since yesterday but haven’t been able to. So she has no idea what’s going on or why I’m here. Except for what she’s probably seen all over the internet by now.”

Elaine’s eyebrows shot to the ceiling. “You didn’t tell your girlfriend you had a fake date with a famous actress?”

“I didn’t mean to,” I said, rubbing my hands down my face. “You know how I am with remembering this kind of thing, Elaine. But I know her. And I know she is freaking out right now, thinking I cheated on her.”

My phone beeped again. I ignored it as I walked over and dropped down on the couch. I wasn’t in the mood to get bitched out by Lindsay or my mom again.

“So just call her, Jay,” Sara said. “You can even put me on the phone. I’ll tell her there’s nothing going on.”

I rested my elbows on my knees, face in my palms. “I already tried, Sara. It went straight to voicemail. This is really, really bad.”

The blue flashing light of my phone caught my attention again so I decided to suck it up and look at the message.

It was Addison.

Addison: I get it, Jason. I really do. She’s beautiful and talented. You guys look great together. I’m not mad, just hurt. Just, do me a favor and stick to your promise. You promised that no matter what happened between us, you would always be Jaxon’s friend. Please, please don’t go back on that promise. He can’t lose you, too, just because I wasn’t what you needed. I’ll have Mick or Samantha take him to you whenever you want until I feel strong enough to see you again. And thank you, Jason, for making me feel special. I’ll never forget that.

I stood up from the couch abruptly, staring at the screen. This couldn’t be happening. I had just found them. I couldn’t lose them over a stupid misunderstanding created by a bunch of low-life picture-takers.

“What’s wrong?” Elaine demanded. I walked briskly to her and handed her my phone. She read the text while I paced, then handed the phone to Sara and went back to typing.

“Please, Sara, please come with me to straighten this out,” I begged as I paced. “You gotta talk to her. Please. You know how I feel about her. About them.”

She looked up at Elaine and took a deep breath.

“You need to go, Sara,” she encouraged. “You don’t have anything on the schedule today or tomorrow and I can clear Wednesday if I need to. But you need to do this for him.”

“Can I even get a flight?”

“We’re actually in luck,” Elaine said, looking down at her computer again. “My mad computer skills have already found you a first class flight that leaves half an hour earlier than your original flight, Jason. And since the paparazzi has been out there all morning waiting to get a ‘morning after’ shot, I can book two extra seats for security if you want them.”

I whipped my head back to Sara, silently begging her to agree.

She nodded once. “Ok. Book it. I still don’t get all this drama. But if it were me, I’d expect the same from you, Jason.”

I let out a deep sigh of relief. “Oh, thank you, Sara. Thank you.”

“Stop thanking her and go get packed,” Elaine said, still typing. “You need to leave here in about forty-five minutes if you’re gonna make it on time and I have to coordinate security and cars with Adam.”

Thirty minutes later, I was anxiously waiting in the living room for Sara to finish getting ready. I was trying desperately not to pace, but there was nothing else to do. I sent both my mom and Lindsay a text telling them not to believe what they see on the internet and that I’d explain everything later.

And by later, I meant after I sorted things out with my girlfriend. Because this relationship was not over. Not by a long shot.

When Sara was finally ready to go and she and Elaine had said all their goodbyes, we made our way to the elevator.

“You ready?” she asked as we waited to get on the first floor. We were flanked by security on each side.

“I keep calling her and she won’t answer,” I said, my throat tight. “I know what she’s thinking and there’s nothing I can do to set her straight right now. Of course I’m ready.”

“I was talking about the paparazzi,” she replied dryly.

As soon as the doors opened, we could see that the crowd had grown. I made the mistake of reading an article earlier speculating on why I had spent the night. Apparently someone I had hooked up with years ago came forward and gave an interview on what kind of night Sara probably had. I literally almost puked when I read that. And then I immediately started praying Addison had missed that one.

The part of this whole thing that made me the angriest is why it was being blown up into a big thing. Sara wasn’t even an A-lister. She did well, don’t get me wrong, but she wasn’t in the news every day like Angelina Jolie or Jennifer Lawrence. And I was just a football player.

The
only
reason these people were here is because of the sensationalism they could create. They had Addison painted as the poor defenseless widow, Sara as a home-wrecking whore and me as a heartless bastard that messes with the hearts of vulnerable women and their kids for sport. It pissed me off because by creating this scenario and passing it off as “truth,” I was about to lose the two things that had become the most precious to me.

“How long have you two being seeing each other?”

“Jason, have you spoken to Addison this morning to break the news?”

“How do you think Jaxon is gonna react to finding out you cheated on his mom?”

I almost punched someone after that last question. Fortunately, security was able to hustle us into the waiting SUV before I could react.

“Relax, Jason,” Sara said, patting my knee. “We’re gonna fix this.”

Once again, I tried calling Addison. Once again, it went to voicemail. So I tried texting. No response. This went on every ten minutes until we got settled on the plane and the flight attendant made me put my phone away. That’s when the fidgeting began.

A couple of hours into the flight, Sara had finally had enough.

“Jason,” she said sleepily without opening her eyes or moving the rest of her body. “You have to stop shaking your knee. I swear you are making the entire plane move.”

“Sorry,” I muttered and squirmed in my seat. Looked at my watch. Ran my hands over my head. Shook my knee.

“Ok,” Sara said abruptly, sitting up and putting her chair in the upright position. “You’re making me crazy.”

“I’m sorry. I just . . . can’t this plane go any faster? I’m going crazy here.”

“I can tell. And that makes me nervous, Jason.”

“How come? You have nothing to be nervous about.”

“I’m nervous about this relationship. Not that we won’t be able to sort this out. But what about the next time? And the time after that? And the one after that? Jay,” she said, putting her hand on my arm and turning to face me. “You’ve been dating for a couple of months and she already can’t handle the pressure of having a famous boyfriend?”

“That’s not what’s happening here,” I said, leaning my head back against the headrest and closing my eyes. I felt so defeated. And even the distraction of this conversation couldn’t take that away.