* * *
Nadia: Whatever. I like your face just fine.
* * *
Crosby: Just fine? You’re killing me, Nadia.
* * *
Nadia: Please. You drive women to sock-stealing. You’re like Helen of Troy but for sock-nappers.
* * *
Crosby: This is why I need you around more—you don’t let me get away with anything.
* * *
Nadia: Well, we’ll both be at Eric’s wedding.
* * *
Crosby: You’re going to save a dance for me, right?
* * *
Nadia: Of course. I think it’s obligatory for the best man and bridesmaid to dance.
* * *
Crosby: If it’s not a rule, I’m making it one. Crosby Cash’s Book of Wedding Party Etiquette.
* * *
Nadia: But I’ll see you in New York before that for the awards ceremony.
* * *
Crosby: That’ll have to do . . . for now. But seriously, you need to come to San Francisco, and not just for the wedding.
* * *
Nadia: Be careful what you wish for, Crosby. You never know what could happen.
I’m thinking about those words as my flight touches down at LaGuardia a day ahead of the event. I’m considering them as my car pulls up at the awards venue and I slide out of the back seat, shimmying my slinky crimson dress into place. I’m simmering with excitement as I make my way toward the venue, watching for Crosby among the honorees and press on the red carpet.
I spot him, and our eyes connect. He gives me that devil-may-care smile, and my heart hammers harder. He watches me weave through the crowd, and my skin sizzles hotter.
More than ever, I wonder if he feels anything like these occasional pangs of attraction, or if this is entirely a one-way street. I wonder idly what he would do if I walked up to him, slid my hand around the back of his neck, and pulled him down for a kiss that would set social media on fire.
Just to satisfy my curiosity.
That’s all.
Because one-way street, two-way street, it doesn’t matter.
Dad would have told me that negotiating a deal requires knowing what you want and what you’re willing to give up to get it.
I know what I want in regard to Crosby. I want him in my life. I want him in Eric’s life. I want this companionship with him, this friendship. And to hold on to it always, I’m willing to give up ever knowing if there could be more than that between us.
The other thing I want is to enjoy his company more often, and since that aligns with the other things I’ve been missing, I have news for him. It’s a miracle the story hasn’t broken in the press, and I’m delighted I get to tell him first.
“Guess what?” I say when I reach him, giddy with excitement. “I convinced the NFL.”
His grin widens, and his eyes narrow, teasing and bemused at the same time. “Convinced them to what? Let you play?”
“Funny, but no. I got the go ahead to . . . wait for it . . .” I take a dramatic pause to enjoy the reveal. “Relocate the team.”
His shock does not disappoint. “Holy shit,” he says when he picks up his jaw. “Are you serious?”
“As serious as a shark.”
He shakes his head as if shaking off a daze. “So where’s it going to be? Miami? DC? Buffalo?”
“San Francisco.” I grin until my face hurts. “I’m bringing the team back home, Crosby.”
He smiles wide enough to bridge the Hudson. It dazzles brighter than the event spotlights and electrifies me from head to toe. “That’s incredible, Nadia. You look happy. Are you happy?”
“Elated.” I press my hand over the butterflies in my stomach. “I mean, it’s a risk, but I think it’s right for the team. And for me. That’s where my heart is.”
“Yeah, I hear people leave those in San Francisco all the time.”
I smack his arm. “Smarty-pants.”
But I’m glad for the joke, the teasing glint in his eye. I’m sure he knows that by heart, I mean my family. But I could do with the reminder.
After the event, we go to Gin Joint, our favorite bar in New York City, where we grab a drink to celebrate—not any awards, but the move.
Crosby raises his glass in a toast. “To being in the same city again.”
“To hanging out until we get sick of each other,” I say.
“Then we’ll be hanging out forever, because I’ll never get sick of you,” says Crosby.
“Whew, that’s a relief,” I say, as I sip my drink to hide a smile. “I’m the same. I just didn’t want to presume.”
“Wild Girl, I am here on earth to be presumed upon by beautiful women.” He winks over the rim of his cocktail. “You have a fast pass to the front of the line.”
“What a charming thought.” I roll my eyes, but they come back to find his locked on me.
