Willow’s expression softens, turning dreamy before she admits, “Well, that might be a slight exaggeration, as I’d already been saved by the time he arrived, but he did leave during the playoffs and fly to Turkey to come get me.”
“And then immediately carted you off to Vegas for a wedding,” Pepper adds, her own voice sounding dreamy from the romanticism of it all.
“Then off to a luxurious honeymoon in the Maldives,” Blue quips. “I hate you by the way.”
“I really did score big with Dominik, didn’t I?” Willow chirps with a dopey smile.
She gets an “amen,” a “preach,” and a high snap over a shoulder in agreement. I’m amazed and a little bit in awe of Willow. Somehow, I think these little tidbits I’m getting—brief peeks into these women’s love affairs—are really just the tip of the iceberg.
“While I believe all of our stories are fascinating,” Willow drawls, turning her attention squarely back to me. “I think Clarke needs to tell us how she managed to nab the league’s most notorious playboy?”
Really? Most notorious playboy?
“There’s a reason they call him Wylde,” Regan chortles.
“I’m glad my man handed that title over,” Blue mutters.
“He’s not all that wild,” Brook observes, then gives me a very pointed look. “That man is smitten with you. So how did you meet?”
I’m not sure about the smitten part, but we do have a good meet-cute, that’s for sure.
I take a sip of my champagne, then settle in to tell them the story of how Aaron walked into my store and suckered me into a bet that would assuredly land him with two wedding dates.
“Oh my God,” Nora exclaims. She’s been very quiet up until now. I know her man, Tacker, is Aaron’s best friend so I kind of thought she might have already known this story. But then again, I have no clue what Aaron has told his teammates. “That is like the best story ever. I thought Wylde might have layers to him… I just never knew they’d be so multi-dimensional.”
“He can quote literary classics?” Blue asks, her eyebrows knitted in confusion. “I thought it was like physically impossible for athletes to be so well-read.”
“Stereotype much?” Regan chides.
Blushing, Blue shrugs. “Hey… I’m blonde and I’m not well-read like that. I’m a walking stereotype. I just mean… we all know how much effort our men have to put into this career. It’s more than a full-time job. When would he have time to read?”
“Well, regardless,” Brooke intones, bringing the subject back around. “I think it’s adorable how you two met, and I’m glad things are working out. I think I speak for all the women in this group when I say it’s a pleasure watching someone like Wylde fall for the first—and hopefully last—time.”
Her sentiment has me feeling awfully unsure of myself. While it’s been a bit surreal how much my feelings for Aaron have changed in just a few weeks’ time, I still can’t seem to shake that impending feeling of doom that this could all come crashing down in a heartbeat.
Their pointed reminders of what a playboy he was are certainly not helping.
“Did we say something wrong?” Brooke asks, her hand coming to settle gently on my forearm.
Whatever is on my face, I try to smooth it out because I don’t want to cause the bride concern. I don’t want to cause any concern, as I’m the guest here.
“No,” I rush to reassure her with an overly bright—completely fake—smile. “I’m fine, really.”
“Because you don’t have to worry about that playboy stuff,” she continues. “Aaron is really into you, trust me on that.”
“I know he is,” I reply, but the dullness in my tone has her frowning. She shoots a pointed look across the room at the women sitting opposite, then brings her worried expression back. She knows there’s more to the story. I feel like there’s a proverbial bright light shining in my face, and they’re on the verge of wrangling a confession out of me.
“So there’s this thing that happened to me.” I actually blink in surprise at the ease with which those words come out of my mouth, especially since I had no intention of sharing my secret with these women. And yet… I keep talking. “A few years back, I was on this reality TV show called Celebrity Proposal.”
I lay it out. All of my pain, shame, and humiliation over what happened. I tell them about the meme and how it haunts me still. How stupid I felt giving up my virginity to a man I had so thoroughly misjudged and how that shadow hangs over me to this day, still influencing my decisions.
Knowing what I now know about Aaron, I can’t believe those past experiences almost kept me from exploring something with him.
Oh, the things I would have missed out on.