When Stars Collide (Chicago Stars #9)(60)

He opened the door of their suite with the new key card they’d gotten at the desk. As she stepped inside, her flamenco shawl fell to her elbows, and she caught her image in the mirror across the room. Tangled hair, dirty face and arms, gown filthy from where she’d fallen. The thin silver chain must have broken when she’d fallen because her necklace and its silver star charm were gone.

“Liv, I don’t mean to be insensitive, but did something happen to your breasts tonight? They’re still sexy as hell, don’t get me wrong. But they seem to look a little—I don’t know—different than they looked at the start of the evening.”

She jerked the shawl back over her shoulders, but not before a quick glance showed that, without support, her breasts were spilling from the V of the gown, and they’d also lost some of the perk. “No idea what you’re talking about.”

“Forget I said anything.”

“I will.”

He eyed her bedroom door. “Maybe after a quick shower . . . ?” But even he knew their window of opportunity had passed.

She pushed a strand of hair from her face with a grubby hand. “We’re dirty, exhausted, and we have to leave for the airport in three hours. So much for our night of passion.” And maybe that was for the best.

“Tomorrow,” he said. “Chicago.”

She fingered the fringe on her shawl, not quite looking at him. “What if this is a colossal sign from the universe that we’ve gone as far together as we should?”

“That’s defeatist thinking. Knock it off.”

“But you have to admit—”

“I admit nothing. If you want to be a champion, Olivia Shore, you have to stay in the game.”

And that’s what this was to him. A game.

*

In the morning, the police returned Olivia’s phone and purse, which they’d retrieved from the limo, the twenty dollars still folded neatly inside. Thad had spent what was left of the night canceling his credit cards, ordering a new phone, and reliving what had happened. He didn’t sleep until their flight back to Chicago, and when he awoke, he saw Olivia sound asleep herself, lips slightly parted, purple headphones cockeyed on her head. She looked young and defenseless, far different from the furious woman who’d gone after their kidnapper last night.

Henri had booked them into the Peninsula Chicago on Superior Street. Thad’s condo and Olivia’s rental apartment weren’t far away, but they’d agreed it would be inconvenient to shuffle back and forth for their engagements, so the hotel would be their home for their last three nights.

The three nights Olivia insisted were all they would have together.

For the first time in his life, Thad had lost control of a relationship. He had to turn that around.

Their suite at the Peninsula had a baby grand piano and a wraparound terrace that looked out over Lake Michigan. While Henri waited for his room to be ready, he camped out with his laptop, and Paisley took off for Sephora.

Liv gave Thad her Queen of Sheba look. “I want to walk.”

He wanted to do more than walk, but not with Henri temporarily working in their suite. “Fine with me.”

She changed from flats into sneakers and traded her trench for a fleece jacket he’d never seen—one more item she’d stuck away in those 799 suitcases she traveled with. On their way out the door, she stole the Chicago Stars ball cap he was wearing and stuck it on her own head. “It makes me feel young,” she said, as she pulled her ponytail through the hole in the back.

“You are young,” he pointed out. “Relatively.”

“I don’t feel that way.”

“Thirty-five is only old in football years.”

“You’re almost forty, so that makes you ancient.”

“I’m not almost forty. I’m thirty-six.”

“Going on thirty-seven.”

“Not yet.”

“Je m’excuse.”

They turned onto Michigan Avenue. The day was sunny, but cold and crisp, thanks to the spring chill coming off the lake. The chill hadn’t discouraged the pedestrians bustling along the wide sidewalks with their shopping bags from Nike, Bloomingdale’s, Chanel, and the Apple Store.

“What are you going to do with yourself when your football career is over?” she asked.

“Not sure.”

“Give me a hint.”

“I don’t know. I’ve been doing some work with a friend.” Work he wasn’t ready to talk to anybody about. “I’ve got an idea. The Omni’s close. Let’s check in for a couple of hours. Just you and me.”

“It’s too pretty to go inside.”

“It’s cold, and you’re nervous. Afraid you can’t keep up with me, aren’t you? Afraid you’ll be a dud.”

“I’m not afraid I’ll be a dud.” She stuffed her hands in her jacket pockets. “Okay, I might be a dud.”

He laughed. “You’re adorable when you’re insane.”

“Dude! It’s Thad Owens!” Three guys in hoodies and backward baseball caps strutted toward them. Early twenties. One wore jeans, two were in cargo shorts even though the temperature was in the forties.

“We’re big Stars fans.” The tallest bro, ablaze in neon-green sunglasses, stopped in front of them.