Sexy Six (The Bennett Brothers 2)

“Consider it done. And plan any interviews online or phone.”

“This has to stay completely confidential. One-hundred percent, no one can know their star quarterback is jet-setting across the globe, especially before the biggest games.”

“We’ll help any way we can. Circulate his name around the art community. Take a few candid shots then leak them so people think he’s still in town,” Logan offers.

“And I’ll even take Shannon Rails to lunch, feeding her snippets about Nick’s preparations for the games,” Bizzy suggests. “I can’t stand her, but she’ll be able to spread the word he’s in his zone.”

“I’ll be here, too, coming and going, so no one catches on he’s not in his condo.” Mathis remembers the local paparazzi staking out my place last year.

My head starts to clear, feeling the support around me. My phone dings with a text, and Shaw tosses it to me.

Grace is finally responding to my text from hours ago.

SP: I love you, too, Nick. Sorry I disappointed you.

I don’t respond in front of all these people. Instead, I start working on my game plan.

Two wins plus one week, and I’m going to her.

Chapter 32

Grace

Greece is breathtaking.

Beautiful, ancient, classic. Everything about Athens has been more than I can imagine. The days bring so much joy and adventure, traveling around the city to different places and experiencing the culture. I’ve met with so many artists, browsing through their work.

It’s the nights that kill me. I lay in my bed wondering what’s happening at home, both in Thomasville and Miami.

The holidays were the hardest, missing Christmas at home. I received several e-cards from Mom and Dad, Bizzy, Claire, and Maria with gifts cards, which made me laugh because I did similarly. All my shopping was online this year. The only personal gift was the picture in the gallery I wanted Nick to have. Logan delivered it and promised me it was hung exactly where I wanted it.

My biggest surprise came from Grandpa Roy in the form of a Netflix gift card and a note to start watching some of his shows. I did, emailing him nightly how ludicrous they were, then admitting I was hooked

I rang in New Years alone, then spent the next day streaming the Miami game, watching Nick and Miami win another game in a row. I sent him a text of congratulations, and he replied thanking me. That was the extent of our communication—a few texts throughout the weeks, none of them mentioning the state of our relationship.

I expected more anger when he found out where I was, but there was none. His message was sweet, kind, and encouraging.

Sweet Peach, your family told me about this chance of a lifetime. Now, it’s my turn to say kick ass. I’m sorry for the way I acted in the airport. When the shock wore off, the words I should have said finally surfaced. So I’ll say them now.

I love you, Grace.

What happens next may be a mystery, but never doubt how much I’ve loved you since the day I saw you again.

You have a whole bunch of people rooting for you, and we’re all proud.

That was three weeks ago, and so far, neither of us has called.

My life here is getting easier, but every day I regret my immature actions. Who knows how things could have ended if I’d only talked to Nick? There are too many what-ifs, and all of them are my fault.

The only thing I have to look forward to is next week when I start with Doni. I didn’t understand why she demanded that I come to Greece early before we started our training. But now it makes sense. She wanted me to get acclimated to my surroundings and prove I wasn’t going to run back to the states homesick.

My stomach growls, and I glance at my watch, deciding on an early dinner. Then I’ll be home in time to watch one of the stupid shows I’ve become addicted to and text Grandpa before I go to bed.

It’s only a seven hour time difference, but with no social life, I find myself in bed by ten most nights.

The little café I’ve grown to love is less than a block from my studio apartment, and when I walk in, the waitress waves for me to sit anywhere. If given a choice, I always choose a table in the corner with a view of the street that’s private enough I don’t feel stupid sitting alone. Today, I luck out and sit, setting my iPad on the table.

I order my usual and open my email, covering my laugh when at least a dozen are from Logan. My waitress gives me a wink when she brings my water, knowing my routine. Carefully, I answer each one, reminding him that next week, my availability will decrease.