Page 63 of The Replay

"Are they saying anything interesting this time?" Nat asks her way.

"You probably know this." Ames smiles at me. "Being involved with pro athletes means some interest in their partners, gossip, et cetera. That means there's a bit of interest in us."

I smirk. "Yeah, I know how it is. I've seen it with my brothers. Sometimes my parents. Rarely the rest of us."

My stint with the royals gave me a taste of it. Not the same world but similar fascination. I didn't care for it one bit.

I shrug. "I'm sure the four of you have had your share of media coverage."

"None compared to Ames," Nat says. "Her and Saint's kiss was covered by several cameras during the friggin' championship win broadcast earlier this year."

Ames laughs. "What did you want me to do? I wasn't about to stop Saint."

"I'm the only one mostly free from coverage," Nat teases. "Advantages of being married to a special teams guy."

Pen scrunches up her nose. "But yeah, all of us have had a brush with unexpected… err… fame."

"And you're not exempt, I'm afraid." Evie gives me her phone with a video playing.

I take the phone. Everyone else seems interested, so I keep the device at such an angle we can all see. We stare at the screen, where a video plays of the five of us gazing down the window to the field. The text on screen reads, "New WAG????" with an arrow pointing at me.

Someone recorded us from the stands below the suite.

"Lovely," I say without enthusiasm and give the phone back to Evie. "At least they won't be able to connect me with anyone. No dates, no witnesses, no evidence."

"Let's hope so," Pen says. "Sometimes things come out that truly shock you."

"These internet sleuths…" Evie shakes her head sagely. "I'd be prepared if I were you."

I sigh. "I was trying to convince myself, I know."

Deep laughter comes from the hall. We all get up and turn toward the door. The men come in and go find their partners, who meet them in the middle. It's sweet, really, how natural it seems.

I make myself scarce and go get a drink, giving everyone room with their significant other. I turn my back to them. Dom comes last and, perhaps thinking the same way I do, he throws his bag on the floor and leans on the sidetable, close to me.

"Hey. Had fun?" he asks.

"Unfortunately, yes."

"Unfortunately?"

He gazes at me with a mix of confusion and humor tilting his mouth. Not that I want to stare at his mouth. It's the kind of thing that just happens when you're communicating with someone. You study their gestures. And with everyone being so affectionate behind me? Yeah, well. Whatever.

I take a big gulp of water. "I'm not sure how happy you're going to be to hear how great a time I had."

"Why?"

"Because now I want more time with them. Evie said she'd invite me to her wedding."

"Hhmm." He rolls his shoulders. "I'll learn to live with it. You're not… awful."

I laugh. "Thank you so much for the kind words."

"I can write them down, then you can get them tattooed on you in my script. 'Not awful.' What an endorsement. My signature goes for good money in some circles."

"Oh, please." I snort. "I don't do tattoos. A shirt with 'Barely Tolerable' on it, though… at least that comes from a classic. Jane Austen had a way with words."

"You like tattoos, come on."