The Mrs. Degree (Accidentally in Love 2)

Man, I looked up to that dude.

Never met him—but I admired him.

The shit he did for his kid sister?

Commendable as fuck.

I barely knew what to say to the guy when he’d stood. The speech I’d rehearsed on my way over flew right out the window the moment Penelope herself had pulled open the front door.

She’d barely spoken to me.

Hi—We’ve never been formally introduced, but I’m Jack Jennings. I am an old friend of Penelope’s, and I’ve been having one hell of a time tracking her down. It’s been years since I’ve seen her, and well, I’m in town for two nights for a game against the Mountaineers and thought it would be awesome if she and I could talk.

Then I was going to hand him a card with a note inside. Simple. Easy.

Ironically, I wouldn’t have had to pass it along to him personally if she had taken it.

I’d known there was a chance she wouldn’t be excited to see me, but I didn’t think she would look so dumbfounded.

SHE IS THE ONE WHO DUMPED YOU.

She dumped me and wanted no contact, which I’ve given her for the past several years because that’s what Penelope requested, and now she probably thinks I’m stalking her. Who just randomly shows up on a person’s fucking doorstep like a love-sick fool who’s been pining for her for all these years?

I’m an idiot.

I’m not a love-sick fool either.

It’s just…these goddamn dreams won’t let me live in peace.

They’re so real. So vivid.

Keeping me awake at night and haunting me during the day.

I have to get them gone.

Still, I should have acquired her phone number and contacted her like a normal person.

Um, aren’t you forgetting something? The last time you called that number, Penelope declined your call seven years ago, blocked you from calling again, then disappeared into oblivion.

Seven years ago, on the night of the NFL Draft, Penelope Halbrook had been my first call after the commissioner announced my name as friends and family flooded my inbox. She was the first person I called seven years ago as if she was my one last lifeline before entering a life sentence of hard work, dedication, and commitment.

Seven years ago, I called her and only her.

Not my mother, not my father—Penelope.

She did not take my call.

She never called me back.

I’ve been through Chicago a few times since my career began for games but never had the urge to contact her quite like this.

It’s been seven years, and I’ve gotten Penelope Halbrook out of my system for the most part. I’ve dated other women and even fell in love with someone else for a little while.

But recently, I’ve been having these dreams…

Wild dreams about her.

Us.

Dreams so wild they felt real.

Just maybe if I tracked her down to get in touch, the dreams would stop, eh? They’re every night, and it’s becoming a distraction. I wake up thinking about Penn and think about her before closing my eyes. This is not normal.

She isn’t in my life anymore, so why would the universe play with my head like this? I haven’t seen her or heard her voice in years. Haven’t even tried to creep on her online.

I gave that up years ago. I’m not the same love-sick fool I’d been when she last saw me. I am a grown man who made his dreams come true with hard work and determination. When it became clear she wanted nothing to do with the life I wanted to build, I had to let that part of my life go.

The same way she let me go.

As if I meant nothing.

But lately? Damn, if I’m not having nightmares. Dreams where I wake up soaked in sweat, seeing her but not being able to touch her. Sinking into the water and watching her face disappear above as she watches me drown. Me reaching out my hand to her and watching her fall. The last time I touched her skin, kissed her lips, and felt her hand in mine.

The dreams will not stop.

In fact, the bastards have gotten worse. More intense.

“Dude, God is trying to tell you something,” my agent and best friend, Duke, told me after I confessed to having these dreams.

“What could he possibly be trying to say by having me toss and turn every single night?”

“Didn’t she ghost you?”

“Yes. Thanks for bringing it up.”

He laughed. “Do you think it’s possible that you need closure for the dreams to stop?”

Closure.

Duke may be right, but I wasn’t about to make an ass of myself with Penelope, who wanted to stay hidden.

Except…

I’ve been having the damnedest time focusing while on the playing field. I haven’t been able to concentrate during practice, either. Games? Eh—I’ve been able to tune the thoughts of Penelope out long enough to get through them, but damn, if I catch sight of a young woman in the stands who even remotely resembles how I picture Penelope Halbrook in my mind?