Double The Ache(19)

I grab my white work polo with the team’s logo on it. I decide to wear sneakers because I’m not sure what my day will consist of. I’m a physical therapist, so I don’t think they expect me to show up in slacks or a dress. I’m thinking casual but put together is best. I know I’m going to be on my feet a lot, but maybe not at first with it now being off season. I’m not sure what all I’ll be doing until they are back.

Heading out, I glance over at the guys’ door. I would hear them if they were back already because they would be yelling my name. I snort at the thought as I hit the elevator button and pull my phone out of my purse. Maybe I should send my men a text. Thinking of them as mine makes butterflies dance in my belly.

I was surprised they would slip out without waking me. I was in such a rush I hadn’t given it a ton of thought until now. After what we shared, what could be so important that they had to rush out? Maybe I didn’t mean as much to them as I thought.

I push that thought from my head. That isn’t possible. Not after the way they touched my body. The things they said and did to me. I may not have known Wes and Dean for long, but I know they would never hurt me. I can feel that to my core.

Unlocking my phone, I step onto the elevator. Something must have happened, and worry takes root. There is no other reason. I see I have a few missed calls from my dad and a few texts from my friend Mindi from back in New York. We lived in the same building and went to the same high school. She got married a few years ago and we still keep in contact mainly through text these days. We have gone in different directions in life.

She wasn’t like most of the other girls I’d gone to school with. There wasn’t a snotty bone in her whole body. I often escaped to her place when my mother was entertaining and I needed to get away. Her home was always a safe haven and her parents were sweet, too.

I’m disappointed when I don’t see anything from Dean or Wes, but then I remember I don’t have their numbers and they don’t have mine. Crap. I guess I missed that during the sex and them stalking me. I snort at my recap of our relationship so far.

Relationship.

The one word bounces around in my head. We are in a relationship, right? They said they've been waiting for the one and believe I’m it. This feels like more than boyfriend and girlfriend territory. Well, at least to me, but what do I know? This is my first relationship.

I go to call my dad back, thinking maybe he has Dean’s or Wes’s number. Another text from Mindi lights up across my screen.

Mindi: You gave your cherry to two men?!

What. The. Fuck.

How could she know that? It wasn’t even hours ago that this happened. No one should know. My heart starts to pound. Oh god. If she knows, that means that video of the guy filming at the restaurant last night must have been leaked or something. There is no other way. Another text fills the screen.

Mindi: Answer me, brat face!

I click her messages. I see link after link of articles with my name, along with Wes’s and Dean’s. I click one as the elevator doors slide open. The article starts to load as I walk out of the building. I freeze when I hear my name being shouted from every direction. I look up to see paparazzi everywhere. People shove microphones in my face and shout questions. I freeze, unsure of what to do.

“Is it true you’re dating both Dean Farmer and Wes Green?”

“Were you cheating on Wes and Dean with that man last night?”

“Are they known to get violent?”

“Have they ever hit you?”

“What does your father say about this?”

“Were you part of the deal when they signed an extended contract this morning?”

That question hits me like a smack to the face.

“How long do you think the NFL will suspend them?”

My stomach knots. I push my way through all the people. I need to get to the stadium as fast as I can. Finding a taxi, I hop in and tell the driver to take me to the stadium. My hands shake as I try to call my dad. Tears leak down my face. This is all my fault.

“Daddy,” I cry when he answers the phone.

“Melly! I’ve been trying to get a hold of you. Don’t leave your building. I got a call that—”

“It’s too late,” I sniff.

My picture is probably going to be everywhere, and I cringe when I think about my mother seeing it. I’m shocked she isn’t blowing up my phone already. She’s going to be livid. She likes everything shiny and clean and I’m guessing her daughter dating two men is nowhere close to shiny and clean to her.

“Where are you?” he rushes to ask.

“I’m in a taxi on my way to the stadium. Are you there?”

“Yes. I’m here. Give me the taxi’s number.”

I give him the four-digit number and I hear him talking to someone else about waving my taxi in through the gates so we don't have to make any stops.

“Where are Wes and Dean?” My voice wobbles when I ask the question. I need to see them.

“They’re here. I’m going to get them right now. They were about to leave to head your way.” Relief fills me. “I’ll tell them to wait.”

“Thank you.” I sniff again.

“Everything is going to be okay.” My dad tries to reassure me, but all the questions the reporters were asking bombard my brain.