You Promised Me Forever (Forever Yours #1)(58)

So lonely.

He made up for my loneliness by kissing me fiercely the moment he slipped into our shared bed when he finally made it back to the hotel. I could feel the urgency in his touch, his lips. By the time we came up for air, I was pretty much naked, Jordan pushing inside of me after putting the condom on, making me cry out in pleasure.

“Don’t ever think I’ll abandon you,” he told me, his eyes bright, his tone serious. “That was Harvey’s idea. Not mine.”

“You two dated before,” Harvey suddenly says, startling me.

I turn to look at him, noting the shrewd expression on his face. “Yes,” I say, keeping my tone nonchalant. “We did.”

“You’re the girl from high school. The one who got away.” When I frown, he continues, “What Tuttle said in the Inside Football interview.”

“Oh. Right.” I don’t know how much Jordan has told Harvey, so I really don’t want to delve too deep into this conversation.

“How’d you two reconnect?” His tone is casual, but I’m not stupid. He’s digging for information.

“Social media.” I don’t bother telling Harvey that episode of Inside Football spurred me into action.

“A modern love story then,” Harvey says, a slight smile curling his thin lips. “Sorry. I’m always looking for an angle.”

“I’m sure,” I murmur, glancing around the room. I don’t really know anyone here. And I’d rather be talking to anyone else, even a complete stranger, if I’m being honest. This guy makes me uncomfortable. Like he’s watching me, waiting for me to make a mistake.

He’s judging me too. Seeing if I’ll measure up.

“You don’t like me very much, do you.” It’s not a question Harvey’s asking. More like a statement.

I turn to face him once more, my gaze meeting his direct. “More like I don’t think you like me.”

“Honestly?” I never like it when people use the word honestly. To me, it means they lie—maybe more than they tell the truth. “I don’t know how I feel about you yet.” Harvey crosses his arms, contemplating me. “Lots of questions run through my mind. Are you using Tuttle? Trying to get a piece of his fame?”

My lips pop open but I can’t find any words to say. His accusation takes me aback.

“Any other woman would’ve stomped her feet like a toddler and thrown a major hissy fit last night after I told you two that you couldn’t be seen together.” He tilts his head. “But you didn’t.”

I shrug. Why make our lives more miserable by acting like a baby?

“You earned a few points for that,” Harvey continues.

“Gee, thanks,” I say sarcastically.

“Listen.” He takes a step closer to me, his voice lowering. Like he’s going to tell me a big secret. “This life isn’t easy. It’s not for the faint of heart. Most of the women who come after these guys are in it for the money. Or the fame. That’s it. They don’t give a shit about the man himself. They want his money. They’ll do whatever it takes, even make up lies about being pregnant with their baby. They care more about what the man can give them in their quest for celebrity.”

My bravado wilts a little when he says the word pregnant.

“I’m not out to become a celebrity,” I start to say, but he silences me with a look.

“The ones who stick with their girlfriends from high school? Those long-term relationships tend to work better than any other. These guys know that the girl who stuck by their side since he was a teenager actually fell in love with them, not the celebrity version of themselves.”

Then I should be trusted, right? Isn’t that what he’s telling me?

“But you’re an unusual case. The high school sweetheart who sweeps back into his life out of nowhere, just when his popularity and worth are about to skyrocket? Not so sure about that one.” Harvey starts to walk away, patting me on the shoulder as he passes. “We’ll keep in touch.”

I watch his retreating back, see how he stops and talks to a woman who looks about my age, maybe a little older. She gives him a hug, and his gaze meets mine when they’re mid-embrace.

Harvey mouths, A good one, and points at the back of her platinum blonde head.

Turning away, I face the field once more, contemplating everything Harvey just said. He doesn’t trust me. He thinks my motives are shady when they’re anything but.

Like it matters, what that guy thinks about me. He’s the team publicist. I won’t let him dictate my life.

I blink my vision into focus, excitement filling me when I see the team already out on the field. Specifically Jordan. We’re so high up, he’s like a tiny speck of white and red, the number eight on his back telling me exactly where he’s at.

Taking out my phone, I snap a pic of them down on the field, then open up Instagram, putting together a quick post.

Enjoying my favorite pastime live and in person. Back with the old crew. #eightisgreat #jordantuttle #cannonwhittaker #ninernation #london

I add my location—Wembley Stadium—and post the photo of the team on the field.

Hopefully Harvey won’t care if I made that post. Not that I should let him dictate what I do. But still. Now he’s got me thinking about my every move. Worrying over my behavior, how I might look. How I should act.