You Promised Me Forever (Forever Yours #1)(57)

But this is with Jordan. The boy you loved. The man you probably still love. The man you want to be with forever…

“You okay?” He settles his big hand on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze. My skin warms from his touch and I waver.

Should I tell him? He needs to know. My chances of getting knocked up are high.

I’m also panicking. Worrying over potentially nothing. So…yeah.

For now, I need to keep this to myself. No use in getting him worked up too.

“I’m fine. Still a little out of it,” I assure him.

“Hungry?” he asks.

My stomach chooses that moment to growl. Loudly. My nervous laughter mingles with his deep chuckle.

“I take that as a yes.” He stands and goes over to the desk, grabbing the to-go box he brought in with him. “Can I turn on a lamp?”

“Go for it,” I tell him, and he does. The bright light makes me blink, holding a hand over my eyes like a vampire. “Oh God, that’s awful.”

“You’ll get used to it. You need to wake up anyway. You need to adjust to the time change.” He pops open the box and the room instantly fills with the delicious smells of the dinner he brought. “Come over here and eat.”

I crawl out of bed, tugging the shirt down as I do, though I don’t know why I’m worried. It’s so large, the hem almost comes to my knees. I pad over to the desk and look inside the box. There’s baked chicken and roasted potatoes, plus a side of green beans flecked with slivered almonds. A flaky roll sits next to the chicken and my mouth literally starts to water.

“Oh my God, I’m starving. This looks amazing.”

Jordan pulls the chair away from the desk for me and I plop my butt onto the seat, realizing quick that I’m not wearing any underwear.

Well. I have a feeling I should get used to this. We’re going to sightsee all over London, but I anticipate us spending a lot of time in bed together too. Using condoms every single time, I might add.

No more accidental protection-free sex for us. No way.

I just hope our one time without protection doesn’t result in something too big for us to handle.





“This place is packed,” I say in wonder, gazing out at the field, at the majority of the seats filled in Wembley Stadium. There are people everywhere. I knew the NFL had been hosting exhibition games in the U.K. to gain interest in the sport, but I had no idea it was becoming so successful.

“We’re one of the most popular teams in the NFL right now. Of course they’re going to come out in droves,” says Harvey Price, lead publicist for the 49ers. He’s wearing a black three-piece suit, accompanied by a bright red tie. He’s a fast talker, slick looking, and I’m not sure I can trust him, considering what he said to me when Jordan introduced us earlier: “Ah, so you’re the new mystery girl in Tuttle’s life.”

Harvey Price’s words and his skeptical tone left me unsettled. More in the way he said it, versus what he actually said.

“I just didn’t realize football has taken off so well over here,” I tell him. We’re in a borrowed suite at Wembley, and it’s filled with all sorts of people. Family members of the team. Employees. Friends. Guests. Someone whispered Prince William and Kate—excuse me, the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge—were possibly going to show up later.

Now that I’d like to see. Or Harry and Meghan.

Hmm, especially Harry and Meghan.

“They like to watch, but I don’t believe any of them want to actually play,” Harvey explains. “They’re fans of the superstar players, the most visible ones, including Tuttle. But I doubt the NFL will ever really take off here. They prefer their own football. Soccer. Whatever you want to call it.”

I smile at him, then return my gaze to the field. The game starts at two-thirty, and it’s already two-fifteen. Yesterday was my first full day in London, and I didn’t get to spend as much time with Jordan as I wanted. Not only did he have practice, but the team also made a public appearance, a sort of meet-and-greet early last night that I attended, but then left after about an hour when the crush of people in the room overwhelmed me.

Plus, I was tired. I’m still not fully adjusted to the time difference. Besides, Jordan barely knew I was there. He was talking to so many people—correction, so many people were talking to him. He’s popular. Everyone wants a piece of him.

Including me.

Those old, lingering insecurities threatened at one point, but I pushed them away. I was going to be fine, I told myself. Jordan wants me there. I know he does.

But Harvey Price had a special request. He asked before the event started that Jordan and I not stand together or take any photos with each other. “I don’t want this exhibition game to turn into the Jordan Tuttle New Romance Show,” he said matter-of-factly. “The British paparazzi love to chase anyone from the US, because they know sites like TMZ will pay big money for scandalous photos. We don’t want to give them anything to talk about. This weekend should be about the team.”

I didn’t protest. Neither did Jordan. He did pull me aside, full of apologies, but I told him I was fine. I understood.

Doesn’t mean I liked it.

I kept my distance during the time I was there, and it hurt. Every time Jordan caught my eye, he’d wink at me, or smile. I’d smile in return, but I felt lonely.