Page 141 of The Player

“Because you’re the one leaving.” She turned back around and settled against his chest. “I didn’t want to be the girl asking you to change your whole plan for her.”

“You’re not asking. I’m telling you.” He kissed her shoulder. “I don’t know where I’m gonna end up yet. Could be Seattle, could be Green Bay, could be some place where it snows nine months out of the year. I don’t give a shit where it is, either. You’re still my girl.”

“Then I’ll buy a bigger coat.”

He laughed, and she felt it all down her back.

“I’m serious,” she said. “Wherever it is, I’ll fly out when I can, on weekends and over breaks. And you’re off in the spring and part of the summer, right? So you come here.”

“I come here.”

“And we call. We’re good at calling.”

“We’re real good at calling.” His thumb moved over her knuckles. “It’s not gonna be easy.”

“I know.”

“Like, it’s gonna suck sometimes.”

“I know, Drew.” She squeezed his hand under the water. “But I tried picturing it the other way too, and I can’t do it. I can’t see myself sitting in this house in May knowing you’re gone and that’s it. Whatever the hard version is, it’s not as bad as that.”

He didn’t say anything. He held on to her a little tighter.

She leaned her head back against his shoulder and looked up at the candles on the counter. She knew what that life was. She’d stood in that hotel room in New York a month ago and found out all it took was some girl who wanted him bad enough and a key from the front desk.

She wasn’t thinking about New York. Not tonight. They’d both left it back there. But she wasn’t stupid, either. There would be other hotels. There would always be somebody.

“Hey.” He’d felt her go quiet. “Where’d you go?”

“Nowhere.”

“Nicole.”

“I’m here.” She turned her face into his neck. “I’m right here.”

He didn’t push. He just pulled her back against him and kissed her temple. “Whatever city it is,” he said, “and whatever hotel, I’m calling you every night. I don’t care what time it is. And when it’s over, I’m coming home to you. That’s it. That’s the whole thing.”

She believed him. She closed her eyes and let herself believe him, and it felt so good she almost couldn’t stand it.

After a while, he reached up and touched the little gold heart at her throat, turning it over with one wet finger.

“You still like it?” he asked.

“I never take it off.”

“Never?”

“Not once since Christmas morning.” She put her hand over his, so the heart was pressed between them. “And I’m never going to.”

He kept his hand where it was. “When I make it big, I’m buying you a real one. Diamonds and all that shit. Something that looks like it cost something.”

“This one is real.”

“You know what I mean. A better one.”

She tipped her head back so she could see his face, and he was so sure about it, so ready to go out and buy her the whole jewelry store, that she had to kiss him for it.

“But I like this one,” she said. “It’s perfect.”