What Comes With It

Chapter 6

There's only a little over an hour or so before we touch down in New Jersey. If Ivy is gonna make good on her word, which she will, that means I don't have long to get ahead of this.

This is barely 10 hours old. And now I have to make it a thing. My stomach sinks as I dig my phone out from my bag. But opening our text chain does the opposite to my heart. Maybe it's worth it. And if it isn't, it will have been nipped in the bud. I take a deep breath and text away.

Hi, so...this is very awkward.

I wait for a response. Nothing.

Your people will probably be receiving an NDA shortly, if they haven't already.

Can you sign it please?

I've been burned before and my team just needs to make sure that anyone I talk to can't use my personal messages and phone calls against me.

I'm so sor-

A text whooshes up, interrupting me.

          U don't need to explain. I don't mind at all.

          I really liked talking to you last night and I don't want to stop.

Relief immediately washes over me. My cheeks hurt I'm smiling so hard.

         But I'll need u to sign one too if that's ok.

That's right. He's famous too. Like, one-of-the-best-NFL- players-in-history famous. He doesn't need my fame or my money. And he certainly isn't scared of the spotlight.

This could really work, I let myself think for a moment. The giddiness quickly gives way to exhaustion, and before I know it, I'm asleep.

***

Not much later, we've landed and are zooming down the turnpike toward New York and my Tribeca townhouse. The car's clock tells me it's not quite 11 a.m., which means I'll still get half a day to totally veg out. I have a lot of time to make up for.

I'm greeted by my cats, who loudly voice their displeasure at my absence. They are extremely well taken care of, but cats are still cats, even if they're Serena Kingsley's cats. They follow me to my bedroom. They know the routine.

The bed is freshly made and turned down already, the automatic shades have been drawn, and I can smell the chef making up my favorite rest day treats. I have no doubt the fridge has been recently stocked for my late-night scavenging.

I change into a sweatsuit, wash my face, and jump into bed. The cats immediately swarm me. It's bliss. I switch on my loaded DVR to an SVU episode and burrow into the sheets. These are my rest day requirements.

I don't catch a single second of SVU. Instead, I spend much of the day texting with Ben.

The cats (and staff) must think I am losing it, with all the giggling coming from my room. And then:

              Ok for real I gotta get to the gym, but can I FaceTime you later?  

              I've signed everything.

My blood turns to ice. This is really real.

I really want to. I have like no voice though.

Tomorrow?

            It's a date.