You Promised Me Forever (Forever Yours #1)(3)

“Maybe.” I shake my glass again, like that’s going to make a fresh drink appear.

“Oh, stop—you always do this with guys. You’re too cautious.”

“More like safe,” I correct. “And there’s no such thing as too cautious.”

Another roar of the crowd sounds from the TV and I glance up to watch as they replay a terrific throw by my ex-boyfriend. I tell myself to look away. Look away now.

But I can’t.

“I find it hard to believe you went out with that guy.”

I turn to face Lena with a frown. “You think I’m lying?”

“No, not at all.” Lena’s eyes go wide. “But why didn’t you ever tell me before? We’ve known each other for a long time. You’d think this type of information would’ve come up a while ago.”

Lena and I have known each other for over a year, but it never feels easy to tell people about my connection to Jordan Tuttle. Her reaction is the reason why.

No one ever believes me that Jordan and I were together. Oh, they say they believe me, but you know they probably tell their other friends, significant other, whoever, that I’m probably making this up. I mean, seriously.

Who in their right mind would ever turn away Jordan Tuttle?

“It just never came up in conversation.” I shrug.

“Please. I’d shout it from the rooftops.” Lena stares at the television. “He’s sooooo hot. And look! Oh my God, they’re going to have an interview with him Friday night!”

I check the TV to see Jordan sitting in a chair, his dark hair tame, his gaze intense, his smile restrained. That’s his fake smile. I can spot it from a mile away.

“Inside Football premieres its new season this Friday night with an intimate look into the world of superstar quarterback Jordan Tuttle,” the announcer’s voice says.

Please. Jordan is a very private person. He wouldn’t give anyone an intimate look into his world.

“We visit his home in the Sonoma wine country.”

There’s footage of him in jeans and a flannel shirt, walking through a vineyard while chatting with a beautiful female reporter, who stares up at him like a star struck fan.

I roll my eyes.

“And he offers Inside Football a rare glimpse into both his past—and his love life.”

“Do you ever think about the one who got away?” the reporter asks, sounding so very, very serious.

He’s sitting in a chair in a house. His house? Still wearing the dark blue and red flannel shirt, his hair a little wilder in this interview clip. There’s scruff on his cheeks and he’s…God. Extra sexy.

Looking directly at the camera, he says in that familiar low, melting voice, “I think about her all the time.”

His words make me sit up straight, my entire body buzzing with electricity. Is he…

Is he?

Talking about?

Me?

No. He can’t be.

“Find out more on the season premiere of Inside Football,” the announcer continues, just as Jordan fades to black.

“Holy shit, just listening to him turns me on.” Lena shakes her head, her gaze meeting mine. “There’s no way he’s talking about you, right?”

I say nothing. I’m trying to communicate everything with my eyes and one raised eyebrow.

Lena blinks once, twice, three times like rapid fire. “Wait a minute. You do think he’s talking about you?”

“Maybe.” I shrug, going for indifferent. I don’t want to look like a total snob, like I believe the entire world revolves around me, but come the hell on.

The one who got away? He thinks about her all the time?

He must be talking about me.

I nibble on my lower lip, wishing like crazy I had another margarita to drown my sudden doubts in. Maybe he’s talking about me.

But then again, maybe not.





It’s Friday and I’m at work, and it’s almost five. Appointments are light today, and I’m bored because no one is around, since most of the therapists who work here are already gone for the weekend. The only person left on shift is me and Cade, with Lena covering the front desk.

She’s an assistant physical therapist like me, but we trade off every Friday afternoon to cover the appointment desk and phones, since our receptionist only works a half day. Her kid has some mommy and me gymnastics class, and considering we work at Atlas Wellness Center, which specializes in sports medicine, management goes bananas for that sort of thing and will automatically give employees time off when they ask.

Seeing Rhonda take off at noon every Friday with a giant smile on her face makes me wish I had a child I could put in mommy and me gymnastics class too.

But that feeling quickly fades, because kids? No. I’m too young, too non-committed, too selfish. I’m not ready for a wedding or a marriage or babies. I don’t even have a boyfriend so, ya know, guess you need one of those first to make it happen.

Though really you don’t. I just want to take the more traditional route.

“Is it five o’clock yet?” I lean against the raised counter of the front desk, smiling down at Lena. She hates answering the phones. Customers make her angry even when they ask her innocent questions, and sometimes she has to watch her attitude.

“I wish.” Lena glares at the elaborate phone system on the desk in front of her. “If I get one more call from a grouchy coach asking if he could get a release letter for his favorite boy playing tonight…”