the clusters of camera crews and reporters and media staff. “I did see you swarmed with more paparazzi than Ariana Grande.”
I laugh heartily and give a shrug. “That’s all you, though. They knew about the video and said it made me a household name and all that boy-next-door stuff you were doing. Which I don’t even really understand what that means, but I’ll take it.”
She chews her bottom lip and giggles, giving me a smack on the arm, which could pass as nothing more than friendly and playful to anyone who saw. “I do have to tell you something, though. I—”
“McKenzie!” Coach shouts at me from the crowded sideline. “Locker room!”
He nods and points with a clipboard toward the tunnel that leads to the away-team locker rooms.
I turn quickly back to face Ellie. “Shit. I’m sorry. Can it wait?”
She opens her mouth and hesitates for a second, then quickly puffs out a breath with a relaxed smile. “Yes. Of course. Go celebrate with the team.”
“Can I see you tonight?” I keep my voice low.
She waves a hand. “Oh, come on. I’m sure you wanna go out in the city with the guys, right? You’re in New York, and you’re going to the Super Bowl! You don’t want to miss out on—”
“Ellie.” I put my hands on her slender shoulders, holding steady contact with the most wildly beautiful brown eyes I’ve ever seen. “I want to see you tonight. It’s not up for debate.”
Those eyes widen, and a soft smile pulls at her cheeks. I can see her melting a little, slowly giving in to whatever the hell is happening between us. “All right, Matt. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Let’s go, bro.” Leo walks by and smacks my shoulder pad, thankfully apparently oblivious to the fire between Ellie and me.
I turn to follow him to the locker room, looking over my shoulder at Ellie. “And you can tell me whatever you need to tell me, okay?”
She nods and smiles, waving as I walk away. But suddenly I get a flash of worry. What could she need to tell me? I was so jazzed about the game I didn’t even let her finish her sentence.
Shit.
Well, now I absolutely have to see her tonight.
Eighteen
Ellie
I narrow my eyes and smile a little as I read Matt’s text on my phone screen.
Matt McKenzie: Meet me at Rockefeller Center in half an hour. Let’s celebrate. :)
I lean my head against the icy-cold window of the car, watching Leonard, the private driver for our New York hotel where I’m staying, swerve and weave and honk at the congested piles of New York traffic.
I still can’t really believe Matt just led his team directly to their first Super Bowl, and he wants to spend tonight with me. Instead of getting totally hammered in the big-city bars with his teammates. Nope. Me. At Rockefeller Center.
A bit touristy, yes. Wouldn’t necessarily be my first choice for a late-night Manhattan outing, but I’m rolling with it. As the town car beeps and pushes through traffic, my stomach is fluttering with butterflies, as if I’m about to go on a first date or give a major presentation.
I shouldn’t be this excited to see him. I shouldn’t be having a thousand thoughts a minute about the way he looked on the field today. The way he carries off the sexiest combination of alpha dominance and sweet humility. And I most definitely shouldn’t be hoping tonight leads to another encounter like the one on the beach in Key Biscayne last week.
No. I need to focus my brain on the important piece of information that’s been gnawing at me all day, and I can’t keep it from Matt for another second.
I have to tell him that Noah, the manager of his team, knows he’s the guy who got me pregnant. And truthfully, I have absolutely no freaking clue how he’s going to react.
That butterfly feeling turns from fuzzy, crushy warmth to straight-up anxiety.
I take a long, deep breath and fix my hair, hugging my arms against my body and shuddering a little in the chilly New York winter.
Leonard pulls up to the side of the main Rockefeller Square, and I can see the white lights decorating the rows of trees. “All right, Ms. Vice. Rockefeller Center, as requested.”
“Thank you, Leonard.” I smile at him and slide my gloves on as I gather my purse and coat.
“You going ice skating tonight, Ms. Vice?”
I practically choke on a laugh. “Hah! You’re hilarious.” I step out of the car