Page 60 of Leave It On The Field (Grand Slam 3)
ChapterNineteen
SOPHIE
November 1, 2022
“I’m sure your dad wants to kill me.”
The morning news is full of stories about me sneaking into Seb’s office. Most of them at least suggest the possibility of us having sex before games. The TMZ Sports story pretty much just says it outright.
“I haven’t seen him this morning,” I say, looking back at my phone that’s propped up against my suitcase. Seb’s stretched out on the couch in his L.A. hotel room. “I’ve been hiding in our bedroom until we leave for the airport.”
“That’s probably a good idea.” He scrunches up his face and turns his head like he’s preparing to take a punch. “Have you seen your mom? I’m sure she’s pissed.”
“Oh, she definitely is. She woke me up at six to show me the stories.”
He exhales slowly. “Is she mad at me? You? The situation in general?”
“Believe me, she has plenty of anger to go around.” I grab my suitcase and phone and head toward the door.
“Did you tell her we didn’t have sex?” He pauses to yawn. It goes on forever. “I mean, we barely kissed.”
“It’s none of her business what we did or didn’t do. It’s nobody’s business except ours.”
“But she was just starting to like me—”
“Seb,” I say, looking at the phone as a text comes in. It’s Raine saying they’re five minutes out. “She’s always liked you.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Really? She told you not to marry me.”
“She did not. She just outlined what she thought being married to a famous man would be like. And honestly, she wasn’t far off.”
“So, what?” His face tenses up. “You’re saying she was right? You shouldn’t have married me?”
“I’m saying she was right about the fame part.” I kiss his face through the phone. “You know I had no choice but to marry you when I’m this stupid crazy in love with you.”
He smiles. “Back at you. I’ll apologize to your parents when I see them tonight. I thought about calling them, but it’s probably best to do it in person. Shouldn’t you be headed to the airport? I thought the plane was leaving at two.”
“It is. Butch and Raine are picking me up in a few minutes. Our parents left a couple of hours ago. I think they were having lunch first to talk about the incident.”
“Man,” he says, gritting his teeth, “that just sounds horrible.”
The security alarm goes off. “Hold up. They’re here. This is Sophie.”
“Hi, Mrs. Miller. It’s Steve. Butch Harrison is at the gate for you.”
“Yep, let him through.”
Seb yawns again—louder and even longer this time.
“Seb, you need to get some sleep.”
“I can’t sleep. I’m too pissed.”
I head down the stairs, pulling my suitcase behind me. It clunks on each step. I’m way too exhausted to lift it. “Let it go. The story will die out. They always do.”
“I don’t want to let it go. People are saying awful things about you. Have you seen the stuff on Twitter?”
“No, and I don’t want to. I’m sure it’s no different than what’s been said all season.” There’s a knock at the front door. “I have to go. I’ll text you when we get to L.A.”
