The Pickup (Imperfect Love 1)

“Why are you wearing the other team’s colors?” Stephen scowls, and Corrine laughs.

“Oh, stop! I swear, every time I go to put on an outfit, if it doesn’t support New York, I never hear the end of it,” Corrine says, rolling her eyes. “You look lovely, Olivia.”

Olivia looks down. “Thank you. I don’t own anything in that ugly grass color, so this is going to have to do.” She shrugs and walks over to Reed to give him a kiss goodbye. She explains everything to her parents, and they listen even though I’m sure they’ve heard it all a million times.

We head downstairs to the valet, and they point us in the direction of the car service. I could rent a car, but it’s easier and safer to hire someone else to drive us around.

Twenty minutes later, the car service drops us off in downtown Denver. He opens the door, and Olivia gets out first. Before I can get out, I see the lights of the cameras flash. For a second I worry how she’s going to react, but she handles it like a pro. She locks her arm into my elbow and smiles softly up at me, allowing the media to snap pictures.

“I’m sorry about this. I made sure to get us a private booth,” I whisper into her ear. She nods, her smile never wavering. I imagine, because her mom was one of the biggest international models of her time, and her dad was a huge college football coach, Olivia’s experienced the paparazzi at some point during her life. Luckily, for the most part, they really only follow athletes during the weeks of the big games. Sure, in New York, you’ll get an occasional paparazzo snapping photos, but it’s not like it is when you’re an actor or singer living in Los Angeles.

We start walking toward the restaurant and several fans stop us so I can sign stuff for them. Olivia offers to take pictures using their phones. We easily ignore the comments and questions about Celeste and my called-off engagement, but when a question is asked about Reed, I almost answer.

“Nick, is it true your son is the result of a one-night stand?”

Olivia’s fingers dig into my arm to stop me. When I look down at her, she smiles then comes up on her tiptoes to give me a chaste kiss. “Ignore them,” she murmurs against my lips before pulling back.

When we finally reach the restaurant, we’re seated immediately. The waiter takes our drink order and then drops off some bread.

“Wow! Walking with you reminds me of being in high school and dating the star quarterback.” She giggles, and I glare at her.

“You dated the quarterback? Who? Does he play now?” Olivia throws her head back with laughter, but I’m not laughing.

“Oh my God! Stop!” She continues to laugh. “I don’t know what happened to him, but I can assure you, you’re way more popular and get so many more girls than him.” Her tone is playful and mocking, and it makes me crack a smile.

“Damn right I’m better, but the only woman I need to get is you. This is why you should be wearing our team colors. So everybody knows you belong to me.”

“Aww…maybe you should buy me a letterman’s jacket with your number on it…or better yet, I can get your number tattooed right above my ass.” She laughs some more.

I, on the other hand, imagine her naked in nothing but my jersey and have to block the visual out before I’m sporting a hard-on right here at the table. Good thing the table is blocking anybody’s view from seeing my crotch.

“Both those ideas sound great to me.”

We spend the rest of our time at dinner getting to know more about each other. It’s nice getting to know Olivia as a woman, as more than just Reed’s mom. She tells me about her mom and her childhood, about her time in Paris, some more about her career in the arts. You’d never guess she’s worth millions of dollars. She’s down to earth and sweet, and she lets everything roll off her back. She listens to everything I say, like she’s genuinely interested, asking questions and adding in her own thoughts. And with every word she speaks, and every smile she grants me, I find myself falling harder for her.

We get back to the hotel room and thank her parents for watching Reed. Olivia tells me she needs to run downstairs and grab something, so while she’s gone, I jump in the shower to rinse off.

When I get out, I wrap a towel around my waist and head into the room to grab some clothes. Before I can make it out of the doorway, I’m stopped in my place. Because standing in front of me is Olivia in nothing but my jersey. I recognize them from downstairs in the hotel giftshop. They’re selling them for the Super Bowl. The jersey is too big on her, exposing her bare shoulder. Her creamy legs are bare, and I wonder if she’s wearing panties underneath.