I’ve been on the phone the entire ride to the magazine party. All I want is to focus on Bree, but my agent needed to discuss an endorsement deal she’s negotiating for the offseason, and then that turned into listening to Tim blabber on about who all I need to kiss up to tonight after we get through the doors. It’s been one phone call after another.
Although Bree has known me long enough that seeing me on the phone for an extended period of time is not a shock to her anymore, I still hate it. It’s rude to spend an entire car ride with a phone glued to my ear. Most women can’t handle this part of my life, and it contributes to our early breakups. Some days I can tell my manager and agent to back off and give me some space, but on days like today where I’ve been moving from one scheduled meeting, practice, and physical therapy session to another, I have to catch up with the people who run my life in my free moments.
“So Paul will definitely be there tonight, and you’ll want to make sure you seek him out and have a public conversation with him,” Tim says, like maybe I don’t already know from years of experience that I need to be friendly with our team’s owner.
“Yep. Got it.”
“Also, Jacob Nelson might try to corner you. He contacted me about scheduling an interview with you, and I told him no. I’ve yet to see a positive article come from him, and I don’t want you anywhere near the guy. Smile and remind him that you leave all scheduling up to your manager.”
“Mhmm…sounds good.”
“Are you even listening to me?” Tim asks in an annoyed tone.
No. Nope. Not a bit. I’m staring at Bree’s long bare legs.
I don’t mean to be, but damn, she looks killer tonight. She looks killer every single night, but right now, she’s making herself stand out in this skintight sparkling dress, hair long and wild but also somehow perfectly styled. And her eyes…wow. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her wear eyeliner before, and it makes her already vibrant eyes practically grab me by the collar of my suit and demand that I empty my pockets and give her everything I’ve got. You can take it all, Bree. She has no idea my eyes are glued to her because her attention is completely locked on her phone. I don’t think I’ve seen her blink in two minutes.
“No, I’m not listening anymore, Tim. Can you just text me a list of people you want me to schmooze and who I need to avoid?”
He sighs, knowing he’s lost me. Honestly, even if Bree wasn’t stealing my attention, I still think I’d only be halfway listening to Tim. I’m tired. No, I’m exhausted. If I closed my eyes right now, I’d pass out. And even though Bree looks like a literal golden goddess, I still would rather be home on the couch with her in our sweatpants watching something funny on TV.
“Okay, last thing and I’ll let you go,” Tim says.
“You have fifteen seconds.”
“Nicole told me to tell you to kiss Bree on the red carpet tonight. Just something chaste and sweet for the news outlets to keep your relationship in the spotlight and trending.”
My eyes sweep to Bree and my pulse picks up. I am getting official permission to kiss Bree. Actually, I’m being told I have no choice but to kiss her. Our lips will meet in only a few short minutes, and my mind can’t wrap itself around the idea. Suddenly, I’m sweating. I feel out of practice. So much rides on this kiss. What if I screw it up? I’ve generally gotten positive reports in that area, but this is Bree. I have to give her my best so the word brother never surfaces in her mind in reference to me again.
“Noted. We’ll get it done.” And then I hang up before Tim can give me any more assignments.
Bree must notice the grit to my voice because her head rises from her phone for the first time, haunting eyes knocking into me. “What will we get done?”
I’m not ready to tell her yet so I sidestep. “Hey, I’m sorry I’ve been on the phone so much. It’s not always like this, but being in the middle of playoffs means my time is—”
She laughs and holds up a hand. “Nathan, please. It’s me—you don’t have to explain to me how busy you are in the playoffs. I’ve actually been thankful for the time to myself on this ride.”
“Yeah?” I smile and nod toward her phone. “What’ve you been doing?”
She bites her full bottom lip, and I wonder if it would be too much if I did that during our first kiss.
“Nothing.” Her cheeks go pink.
I laugh at the way she immediately tilts her phone so I can’t see the screen. “That pretty much means you’re absolutely up to something then. Come on, hand it over.”
“No!” Her long dark eyelashes practically touch her eyebrows with how wide she opens her eyes. “You’ll laugh at me.”
“Of course I will,” I say with a grin. “But that’s nothing new, so let me see it.”
She lets out a disgruntled sigh then hands her phone over. I’m now looking at a Google search page full of images of “celebrities on the red carpet”.
I don’t laugh because I can see she’s genuinely embarrassed. “Why are you looking at this?”
“Because! I need to get ideas for how to pose. You’re so used to all of this, but…I’m over here trying not to have a freak-out because in like two minutes I’m going to be ON A RED CARPET FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE!”
I feel bad now. I completely forgot to run her through what the red carpet is like. Of course she’s nervous. I remember feeling totally sure I would faceplant during my first photo op, and I wasn’t even wearing four-inch heels like she is. Probably not the best time to tell her we also have to publicly kiss for the first time on that same red carpet.
“You have nothing to worry about. I’ll be there the whole time, and I’ll make sure you don’t trip or fall. As for posing, you want everyone to have a chance at a good angle. Keep your shoulders back and chest proud, and then pretend you’re trying to set up facial recognition on your iPhone.”
She sputters a laugh and her shoulders relax. “What does that mean?”
“You know, when it makes you turn your face every which way so it can learn every detail of your face to unlock it. Do that with the cameras. Look left, right, tilt your chin up slightly in one direction, and then repeat on the other side.”
She nods, focusing on my instructions. “Okay, and what do I do with my hands?”
“You’ll be holding my hand with your left, and the other hand can go to your hip. Don’t worry about knowing when to walk and when to stop. I’ll guide you the whole way.”
She takes in a deep breath, and I don’t let my eyes fall to the part of her cleavage that’s showing under that sheer piece of sparkly fabric. But I want to.
“Thank you. Is it…is it bad that I’m looking forward to this a little?”
Something about those words eases the constriction in my chest. She’s excited? Bree has always made it a point to tell me how much she would hate to be involved in this part of my life. I lick my lips in lieu of pouncing on her statement. “I’m happy you are. Because I like you here with me.”
Her bright eyes shift to me, and suddenly, this SUV feels small. Like a gloriously teeny tiny box.
“We need to kiss,” I state with zero tact.
Her expression falls. “Excuse me?”
I clear my throat and mentally punch myself for being the farthest thing from smooth. “On the red carpet. That’s what Tim was telling me on the phone. Nicole thinks it would be good for our ‘couple image’ to kiss briefly while they’re taking pictures.”
Bree’s eyes are so wide I’m afraid they’re going to fall out of her head. She twists her hands in her lap. If she were standing, she’d be pacing. “I can’t kiss you out there! I’m worried about just smiling as it is! Kissing is going to…Nathan…oh my gosh. Our first kiss can’t be in front of paparazzi!”
My stomach flips at her words: first kiss. Like she knows for sure there will be more.
“Do you—do you want me to kiss you now?” I HATE how nervous I feel right now. Don’t let your voice quiver like a damn fool.
“No! Absolutely not!” She pauses, looks out the window for a few seconds, and then pivots her gaze back to me. “Well, maybe. Actually, yes.” Another pause with a definitive headshake. “Wait, no. It’s better to only kiss in public so we don’t feel like it’s real.”
“It will be real.”
She glares at me. “No. It. Won’t.”
“My very real lips will be on your very real lips, Bree. That’s the very definition of real. It will not be in our heads.”
She gets ready to put her hands over her face but pauses when she remembers she can’t mess up her makeup. She whimpers instead. “Ugh. Nathan.” Her eyes slide to me, and she looks scared. “It’s…a lot. All of this. Me and you.”
“I know.” I want to rest my hand on her thigh to comfort her, but I know that would make it worse. Instead, I feel like I should sit on my hands so they don’t get any ideas. I’m supposed to be inching Bree into this shift in our relationship, not tossing her over the front of the boat without a life jacket. “Look at me, Bree.”
She does, and her eyes are filled with so many emotions I can’t read.
“It’s just me. Me and you. Nathan and Bree Cheese. Kissing won’t change that.” It’ll make all those things better.
The heaviness in her expression lightens, and she smiles. “You’re right. It’s just a kiss. No big deal.”
Well, that’s not exactly what I meant.
I don’t get a chance to expound, and we don’t have time to practice our kiss even if we wanted to. The SUV slows to a stop, and Bree’s frantic, terrified eyes fly to me. Oh no. She looks like she’s going to puke. Now, I do reach over and squeeze her thigh. Her skin is warm and smooth beneath my fingertips. I don’t let my brain register how good she feels. I can’t right now or I’ll lose my mind.
She swallows, and then the door opens. There’s immediately an explosion of cheers from fans lurking beyond the rope and flashes of cameras wanting to catch the exact moment we step onto the red carpet.
I give Bree one quick nod. She nods back, and we’re really doing this. Together. It’s my dream come true, and I only hope this doesn’t end up being Bree’s nightmare.
Immediately this night is different from all the other events I’ve had to endure without her by my side. The whole energy is different with Bree gripping my hand and sticking to me like a June bug as we stride down the red carpet. I keep glancing back at her to make sure she’s not puking while walking, but after about ten steps, her smile changes from tight and terrified to softer and more confident.
I know that feeling. It’s the same as when you jump off a diving board for the first time. That first second after you jump is the worst, and then from there, it’s easy. There’s nothing to do but enjoy the free fall.
Bree’s hand squeezes mine, and I look back to see her crinkle her nose at me in her signature cute smile. It’s her Can you even believe it? look. My heart bursts. It’s wide open, completely hers for the taking. Always has been.
“Nathan! Over here!”
“Nathan!! Bree!”
The paparazzi are loud and the flashes are bright, but I barely register them as Bree and I come to a stop in front of the backdrop with Pro Sports Magazine’s logo printed all over it. Because it’s time to kiss Bree.
I let go of her hand to wrap mine around her hip and angle myself a little more toward her, making sure to keep the majority of our bodies facing the photographers. Suddenly, I hate that this has to be our first kiss. It’s the worst. It feels stiff. Calculated. So far from romantic we might as well be in a garbage dump with a rotten banana peel laying over my head. There’s no way this is going to make her knees weak, and I don’t want to settle for anything less.
I feel Bree take in a deep breath as she angles her smile up toward me. More photographers are shouting. One yells, “Give us a kiss!” Bree widens her eyes in a Go ahead look. And now that’s what they are all chanting. Nicole was right—everyone is dying for this. I’m dying for this. I just want it in the privacy of my own home where I can give Bree the attention she deserves. Where I can pin her against the wall. Where I can worship her mouth like I’ve been dreaming about for years.
This is my one shot, and I’m going to ruin it. Should I just take her lips in a harsh kiss? Should I let it roll low and slow? Should it be a peck? Damn. I can’t. Now my heart is pounding painfully, my hands are sweating, and we’ve been in this spot too long. The woman with a clipboard and a walkie-talkie is telling us we need to keep moving. We’re monopolizing the red carpet and she wants us to get lost so the next SUV that just pulled up can unload. But I can’t move. My hands are feeling pinchy and tingly, and my face is hot. The flashing lights are painful and the abrasive shouts are closing in around me. What’s happening? It’s the same sensation I felt in the tunnel before the last game. I think I’m going to pass out.
Bree’s smile slips for only a second. She must see something in my face that I don’t mean to be showing. Her delicate hand comes up to my jaw, and she smiles for real. It’s soft. A blanket. A Bree and Nathan smile.
“You still with me?” she asks quietly, making me focus on only her. I let myself drown in her, and my pulse calms a little.
I nod and swallow. She rises up on her tiptoes and places a soft, quick kiss on my lips. I squeeze her hip, wanting to keep her here, wanting to soak up every moment of her mouth pressed against mine, but all too quickly, she pulls away. She faces the photographers again and angles her face in two more directions like she’s been doing this her whole life. Apparently satisfied with the amount of photos taken, she crosses in front of me, takes my hand, and pulls me along behind her, smiling like a seductive queen back at me. Everyone should bow down to her as she passes. I follow along, her lost puppy. She squeezes my fingers a few times as we walk like I did for her on the way in. I’m still in a daze, not quite registering everything around us, but I’m sure that later when I’m alone, I’m going to kick myself for ruining our first kiss.
omg that was so cute