Forgot? I look like a hobo compared to him. He’s wearing designer jeans and a black tee that hugs his biceps. My outfit screams I lost everything in a fire and am burned all the way down one arm.

  “Did you order yet?” Levi whips out his card. “May I have an Americano with whatever she’s having?”

  The barista stares at us, and I feel even more foolish. “I didn’t actually order anything. I don’t have my wallet anymore. Or maybe I do, but I don’t know where it is. And Raeann’s at work.” I open my purse and show him how empty it is. “I just grabbed it. I didn’t think.”

  He drops his arm around me. “I am buying this brave woman whatever she wants,” he announces, his southern accent dripping honey all over the already generous sentiment.

  “I’m not⁠—”

  “Order something, Tabitha.”

  The way he says it perks me right up. “Can I get that caramel latte?”

  “And she wants a muffin, too,” Levi says.

  “I’m okay,” I insist.

  “Order a muffin, or I’ll order the worst one on the menu.”

  “Chocolate chip?” I ask the barista.

  She nods, and Levi says, “Make that two. Oh, and I’ll take a couple of those cookies and one of those brownies. Maybe a few more of those muffins.”

  “Anything else?” the barista asks, a sly smile on her face.

  He shakes his head and taps his card. The machine beeps, and Levi keeps his arm around me while we maneuver toward a table. “No one told me you were up and around. I’ve been begging Micah for info, but he’s always so cagey, the big lug.”

  Part of that could be my fault. They knew I had a crush on him before, and they think… Well, I’m not sure what they think now. That my mindset isn’t right to handle normal conversation with someone the likes of Levi? Which is honestly stupid because it’s obvious he doesn’t see me like that. During the few times we met, I was giving off major interested vibes, and he never took the bait.

  To Levi Soucy, I’m just his teammate’s girlfriend’s friend. Except now, I’m his teammate’s girlfriend’s damaged friend. Someone to pity.

  Ugh, maybe I shouldn’t have gone outside.

  Levi keeps looking at me expectantly so I change the topic to something safer. “I hear you’re on a TV show.”

  His face sours, and I immediately regret bringing it up. Maybe that isn’t such a safe topic after all.

  “Sorry.”

  He shrugs as he leads me to one side of the booth, and I sit. “No, it’s okay. It’s a shitshow, that’s all.”

  “You don’t want a bunch of women clamoring for your attention?” I ask, and I admit, it comes out with some poorly timed attitude.

  “It turns out it’s not as much fun as you would think.”

  I chuckle to myself. “I didn’t actually think it would be fun. It sounds horrible.”

  He puts his card away, the corners of his mouth turning up. “I should have sought out your advice before I signed a contract.”

  Before he can sit, one of the other baristas calls for Levi, and he goes to the counter to pick up our loot. He’s bought more things than I ever have at a coffee shop. There are four bags, plus the coffees.

  Levi lays our meal out like it’s a feast. He places my coffee in front of me, the mug steaming, then napkins for each of us, then sets one of the chocolate chip muffins next to it and the cookies in the middle of the table between us.

  “I’m so glad to see you out,” he says. “I’ve been thinking about you since… Well, since…”

  “Since you were there when I was pulled out of a burning building?”

  “Yeah,” he says, casting his gaze to the table. Just as I remembered. His eyes are striking, blue with hints of gray.

  Though I’d love to believe Levi and I have some sort of crazy connection where he knew by some divine intervention that I was in trouble and showed up to rescue me out of nowhere, Micah explained that he had Levi and Reid stay behind to find out any news of me. Probably expecting details of my torched body being found.

  A shiver runs up my spine.

  “Are you cold?” Levi asks.

  I blink, seeing him again, right there in front of me, with a big chunk missing out of his muffin. “I’m fine. Thanks for ordering. I can pay you back.”

  He tilts his head, that Levi charm oozing off him. Before, I would’ve preened under it. Now, it stops me in place, almost like running headfirst into a wall. “No need. I’ve been wanting to see you, but like I said, Micah’s been keeping you under lock and key.”

  “It’s not Micah. It’s Raeann. She’s like a helicopter parent, and you know he’ll do whatever she wants.” But even as I say it, it feels like a lie. If I’m honest with myself, there’s a huge part of me that’s totally fine with Raeann mothering me. It means I don’t have to face anything at all.

  “He’s a total goner for her, that’s for sure.”

  Levi looks wistful for a second, but my eyes must be blurry because that’s not his MO. He’s a heartbreaker. The kind of guy who will be upfront about what he wants, but the girl holds out hope for something else anyway—then gets her heart broken when he follows through on his word.

  Who can blame him? He’s a pro football player. He’s out there sowing his wild oats. He’s gorgeous, women love him, and there’s the simple fact that he can.

  Sounds kind of nice, actually. A good distraction.

  “How’s the season going?”

  “You don’t know? I figured that’s all Micah talks about.” Levi peers around the café and then leans in close. I find myself doing the same. “I have this theory that all of Micah’s dirty talk is football related. Like, ‘Yeah, baby, take that dick just like my stiff arm.’”

  I bust out laughing. A real, genuine laugh that has my burns protesting as they rub against my body with big shoulder shakes, but I don’t care.

  Levi’s smile turns into a spotlight. “Have you heard them?”

  I almost choke. “You think I’m listening?”

  “I think my curiosity would get the best of me.”

  “You’re not right, playboy.” I shake my head.

  “Playboy?”

  “Yes, look at you, all suave and handsome with your hair perfectly styled and muscles popping out everywhere. That jawline. If Hugh Hefner had been a woman, you’d definitely be one of her bunnies.”

  He tilts his head. “Or would she call them rabbits?”

  “Jackals?”

  “Are they the same thing?”

  “No. Hares?”

  He smirks to himself. “Why are we talking about this?”

  I take in his heated face. “Aww, I made you blush.”

  “Well, it’s not every day a beautiful woman tells you you’re also attractive to her.”

  I nearly spit out my coffee and laugh. “I might believe that if you were anyone else, but I’m pretty damn sure Levi Soucy gets told he’s good looking all the time…” I lean forward. “And you fucking love it.”

  His tongue drags across his lower lip. At first, I think it’s an attempt at flirting, but there are no other factors to indicate that. He’s staring at me, but he’s not really looking at me. “I actually think I’m ready to settle down.”

  “The dating show?” I nearly shout.

  His face sours again. Damn. When will I ever learn my lesson? This was the most intriguing conversation I’ve had in weeks, and I’m ruining it by asking stupid questions. In all honesty, I just really think the dating show is funny.

  “The show is a joke,” Levi says, sitting back in the booth. He creates so much distance between us, I hadn’t realized how close we’d been. The empty air is more like a chasm now. “One of the ladies followed me into a bathroom and complained I wasn’t putting on a good enough show for the audience. Can you imagine?”

  “I knew it,” I announce. “Those things are scripted.”

  “If it is, I didn’t get the memo. I was doing what I normally do.”

  “Well, they probably want to piggyback off your success. So many of the contestants on those shows end up in entertainment somehow.”

  “Live and learn, I guess.”

  “So you haven’t found a match?”

  He scoffs. “Not likely.” He rubs his face, gaze turned down. Again, reacting differently than I would have guessed for a playboy like him. He looks genuinely upset by the events of his show.

  “Have you told anyone else that you’re unhappy?”

  “And admit I made a mistake? Don’t think so. It doesn’t matter anyway. My only option is to finish. He has me by the balls. That’s a direct quote, by the way.”

  Aww. That’s not right. I⁠—

  “I guess I’m going to need your number,” he smirks. “Clearly I have to use you as a sounding board for big decisions…like signing my life away.”

  And there it is. The playboy is back. “You didn’t just make all that up as a ploy to get my number, did you?”

  He laughs. “You know what, I wish I had. It was actually a good line, but I’m afraid I’m being one-hundred percent genuine.”

  “Well, sorry to break it to you, but I don’t have a number right now. I don’t even know if I have my old number. I haven’t seen my phone since…you know. People have been calling the home phone.”

  “Who has a home phone anymore?”

  I roll my eyes. “We do.”

  “Well, that’s not convenient for me.”

  I chuckle. “Sure, we’ll go with how it impacts your life.”

  He grins. “Well, we’ll have to see what we can do about that.”

  4

  Levi

  Istand at the coffee shop front window and watch Tab maneuver the sidewalks of Nashville. I’m poised to follow, only a step away from the front door if she leaves my sight. My heart pumps the same thought through my body on an endless reel: I need to know where she lives.

  If Micah won’t give me the information, I’ll find out myself.

  It’s been a month since the fire, but the connection was still there, electric and unyielding. The phrase drawn to her would be an understatement. Ever since that night, a persistent need to know her, help her, be with her has rolled against me like the never-ending surge of ocean waves.

  On the crosswalk, she dodges people like she’s trying not to be noticed, moving this way and that, avoiding any contact whatsoever. As if attention would cost her something.

  That alone would usually make her invisible to me. Women I know dress like their only objective is to be seen. Who wear their confidence loud and tight and lowcut.

  Tabitha Riley wears the exact opposite—and somehow I’m all the more attentive.

  I track the way her shoulder dips when her steps slow. The way she pauses, just barely, before entering the building across the street, almost like she had to brace herself.

  Even though I know the building, I move closer to the glass to read the name on the canopy: Wingate Building.

  Interesting. Micah failed to mention he put the girls up so close to headquarters. It’s like she’s been sitting under my nose all this time. I could punch him in the nuts for this.

  I watch the front doors long after she’s disappeared through them. The universe had to have set this up. After all this time, all the texts sent, all the questions asked, and she just happens to be in the café I walk into? Fucking kismet.

  Goddamn, there’s something about Tabitha Riley.

  Still here after all she went through, spitting fire. She wears her attitude like a cloak draped over her body. Not a shield, but an accessory.

  She’s beautiful.

  Gone was the vulnerability from the night of the fire. Cleaned of ashes and smoke, she practically glowed, a halo of light surrounding her. Underneath, though, I sensed something different. A bitterness. An uncertainty that wasn’t there before, proven by the little movements here and there. Pulling her sleeves down. Making sure her hair was over her shoulder. The way she tried to disappear into the crowd.

  I know almost nothing about her injuries other than what Micah has said. She was burned on one side of her body where the fire got too close. Too near such a precious form. I can only imagine⁠—.

  I squeeze my eyes shut, anger dousing my body. My brain tries to conjure up images of what she would’ve went through, but at the same time, I wipe them away. Why Tab?

  My hands clench at my sides. Micah should’ve told me—us—what was going on with her. Raeann is part of the family now, and Tab is her family. Instead, he’s hidden her away. On bed rest like it’s the 1800s. Just judging by the time I spent with her, the last thing she needs is to be secluded. She needs to be out there, living boldly. I mean…she survived. Fuck. She deserves a celebration. Hiding is not the answer.

  “Excuse me?” I don’t look right away, and the man has to repeat himself, then add, “Can I get through?”

  It’s then that I realize I’m standing at the front door, staring between the curved decals that represent steam from a coffee cup.

  I step out of the way, and the guy does a double take. “Yo. Levi Soucy. Great game the other day. That catch in the third right on the sidelines… Amazing.”

  “Thanks, man,” I say, shaking his hand on autopilot. I’m always cordial when talking to fans while at the same time attempting to keep the interaction to a minimum. I learned early on that if you gave people an inch, they’d take the whole damn day.

  Not Tab, though. Before the fire, all of my interactions with her were normal. As if I was just some guy. Maybe it’s because she was used to having Micah around, but it was refreshing to not have to wade through looks of stardom.

  I give the guy a smile, looking away so he knows the conversation is over, but I spot the emblem on his shirt. The plan of all plans solidifies in my mind. If this was a football play, we’d be going straight to the championship. “You work for that cell company?”

  “Sales,” he confirms. “If you ever need anything, I’ll hook you up. We’re down the street.”

  I pat his shoulder, beaming. “Dude, you could not have come at a better time. You have no idea. Are you heading back there now?”

  “Yeah, I just stepped out for coffee.” He holds up his to-go cup.

  “I’ll walk with you.”

  The street is busy. Pedestrians, cars, but I’ve never minded the hustle and bustle. Some of the older guys on the team prefer to live outside the city limits, with their big houses and families, but I love living in the center of it. Being able to pop down to the store like this and grab what I need.

  “Alright, what’re you looking for?” the guy asks when he opens the door to the shop. There are a couple more workers behind the desk and a few customers browsing phones. The store is on the small side with pedestals showcasing the newest phones and other tech accessories cropping up across the showroom floor like strategically placed defense players on the field.

  Each pedestal is showcased from a spotlight above. I stop near one, watching the vibrant colors on the screen as the phone goes through a demo, but the images morph into Tab on her bed, texting me with a huge smile on her face.

  “I want the works,” I tell him, turning to face him again. “See, I’m trying to impress this girl, so I want the absolute best phone you have in this place, plus all the accessories that go with it…and I want the line added to my plan.”

  It’s a last-minute decision, but it just feels right. I’m not going to give her a gift and then make her pay for it, but better than that, adding her to my plan is a step in the direction I want to take with her. On the same phone plan signals togetherness, a relationship, even family.

  I’m so fucking giddy.

  “You want to keep her number?”

  I open my mouth to say yes, but that has some potential problems. One, I don’t have her original phone number to give to this guy, and two, if she has her old number back, she’ll be available to everyone. Literally everyone. All her friends, family, social media.

  I want her all to myself.

  Mine.

  The thought surprises me, but instead of feeling bad about it, I smirk. “New number.”

  “You got it.”

  This is going to be so good. From this point forward, I’ll have direct communication with her. No Micah to interfere. Just her and me, getting to know each other. Secret texts, inside jokes, she’ll be so far in my orbit before she even realizes she’s there.

  Within half an hour, I’m walking out of the shop with a bag full of tech. As if the universe planned it just for us, I spot a flower shop next door. I’m being pulled by divine forces. There is no other explanation because everything is working out perfectly.

  Inside, I’m bombarded by the aroma of florals. Each scent layered on top of one another makes for an intoxicating mix. The new phone is one thing, but it’s sort of sterile by itself. The flowers will make it extra. Romantic, sweet, the kind of gesture Tab deserves.

  The fifty-something-year-old woman at the counter greets me with a warm smile. “How can I help you?”

  Peering around, I spot flowers in every color of the rainbow. The only flower I can recognize instantly are roses. But that’s so basic. Everyone gives their significant other roses. I want mine to stand out.

  I lean against the counter, giving the woman my best smile. “I have a problem. I’m really into this girl, and I want to show her how special I think she is.”

  Her eyes shine. “Well, I can help with that.”

  I lift the bag of tech and place it on the flat surface in front of me. “I just bought these for her, which she needs, but alone they just seem like maybe they’re not the right message I want to send.”

  The woman’s eyebrow raises as she picks through the bag. “She must be a very special girl.”

  “You have no idea.”

  “Well, I know just what to do.” She gives me a red-lipped smile before turning and maneuvering to a table in the back a little ways away. “We’ll do a gift basket. I can situate the phone and the other gadgets amongst more romantic things. Flowers, maybe some chocolate covered strawberries?”

  I grin. Tab’s not going to know what hit her. “Yes, all of that.”

  “Do you know her favorite flower?”