Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 90736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
I grin. “Is let the dog out code for let’s go back and have makeup sex?”
“Wink, wink.” She goes up on her tiptoes and kisses me on the mouth. “Dad—we’re leaving!”
We make short work of the goodbyes to Steve; I hug him, too, Harlow promising to call him later.
“Oh my God, that man is living his best life,” she mutters as we climb into the black sedan and pull away from her dad’s condo building. “He’s probably already on the phone calling all his friends.”
No doubt.
“We’ll have to get you down to Ohio so you can meet my parents too. My mom is going to love you.”
“We’ll get there.” She pats me on the thigh, a constant reminder that I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. Leave it to Harlow to put me in my place.
God, I can’t wait to bring her to a game and put her in the stands—then have victory sex afterward.
Just gotta find my team, first.
Harlow is going to be my biggest goddamn fan. I can feel it in my gut.
And I’m ready.
Hell yes, I’m ready.
Chapter 33
Harlow
“. . . and can you tell us a little bit more about the woman you were spotted with in Green Bay? What’s her name, and where did you meet her?”
I watch as my sparkly new boyfriend pulls the microphone closer to his face, leaning in nice and good so everyone in the pressroom can hear him. Andy is in the middle of a table, on the center of a stage, live during a press conference.
It’s blowing my mind to see him on television, and I can’t take my eyes off him.
“Y’all know I don’t like talking about my personal life, and this is a new relationship. I probably shouldn’t divulge too much. Don’t want to [bleep] it up.” The room laughs when he says fuck, the network censoring the word. “But I know she’s at home watching right now and gave me permission to feed you a few breadcrumbs.” Andy laughs. “Her name is Harlow, and yeah—she’s from the frozen tundra.”
“And where did you meet?”
He pretends to be abashed, shyly dipping his head for theatrics. “Well, that’s a funny story, actually.”
Oh Lord, is he going to tell them about the puking and diarrhea, or just the part where I warned him off eating raw chicken?
Andy has been the best teacher, educating me on all things related to sports media and how I don’t have to say shit to anyone approaching me if I don’t feel comfortable doing so.
Mrs. Burke—his mom—has been great too.
We flew to Ohio two weeks ago so I could finally meet his parents; to say they were thrilled he’s dating a midwestern girl would be an understatement.
“I was in New York, she was in New York—and we met in line at a food truck.” He says it simply, as if it were no big deal.
“Can you tell us if you were in New York to meet with team owners?” a reporter can be heard asking in the background.
Landon nods. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Can you tell us a little bit about the shirt you’re wearing, since you’re no longer on the market? It seems strange to be promoting a dating app when you’re not currently searching.”
“Oh this?” He grins. Stands up at the table, pulling back the lapels of his sport coat to reveal a tight white T-shirt stretched across his broad chest, with a big pink exploding heart in the center.
Hearts spill out the top.
“This is a shout-out to Harlow. She developed the Kissmet dating app, and it’s going to be the best [bleep] dating app the world has ever seen,” he boasts. “It launches in thirty days, follow Kissmet online for updates!”
I bury my face in my hands, excited and embarrassed, but mostly I’m proud. So proud of him—and myself—giddy at the fact that my boyfriend is pimping me to the entire nation.
I’m dying inside!
I could throw myself on the floor and kick and scream with glee.
“And did Harlow have any sway when it came to visiting Green Bay and its management?” a reporter calls out from the back of the pressroom.
Recorders and cell phones are poised in the air, ready to record his answer to infinity.
“That’s a good question.” Andy grins. “No comment.”
No comment?!
“Do you have your winter parka ready for those visits?” another reporter asks. “I hear it gets really cold there.”
The whole room chuckles at the lame joke.
Trent, Andy’s agent, is next to him and leans over, whispering something in his ear.
Andy nods. Leans forward.
“Yes, I have a parka.” He pauses when a large man walks out and joins him on the stage, behind a podium. “And a jersey.”
The man steps forward to a podium. He’s an older, lumbering giant of a man who looks like he could have played football in his younger days, his suit and tie doing nothing to make him look less . . . athletic.