She glances at me and I send her a stern glare, hoping she can read into the look I’m giving her that I don’t want her to do this. I’m sure she doesn’t want to either.
“Okay. Let’s do it.”
I can’t f**king believe she just said that. “Give us a minute,” I tell the reporter, grabbing her arm and steering her away from him so he can’t overhear us. “Are you crazy?” I ask the moment we’re far enough away from him.
“What?” She extracts her arm from my grip, looking at me like I’m nuts. “I don’t see the big deal in talking to him.”
“He’s just trying to dig up information.” I slam my lips together. There’s a lot of information I don’t want anyone to ever find out about me and she knows this. She has her own secrets to hide. Letting a reporter in is like an open invitation for him to dig and dig and dig until he finds the real juicy dirt.
We’ve got a ton of it, too. Our past could fill up an entire book. Maybe two.
“I know. So instead of us hiding from the media all the time, we’re going to tell them only what we want them to hear.” She smiles, so brilliantly I feel like I’ve just been momentarily blinded. “Right?”
Ah. My girl is … so damn smart. “Yeah. You’re right.”
“I know.” Her smile turns smug. “We give them a little bit of info and they’re happy. If we look like we’re hiding, then they’ll think we are. And then they’ll never leave us alone. We don’t want that, do we?”
“Hell no.” I grab her again and pull her into me, my arms tight around her waist as I kiss her soundly. So soundly she blinks up at me, her expression dazed when I finally pull my lips away from hers. “You’re sneaky. You know that?”
“I know. That’s why you married me.”
Chapter Six
Drew
A year later and my wife really is as famous as me. She’s been featured in magazines, the paparazzi stalk her, and it’s … it’s f**king ridiculous. Only during football season, though, when she’s more visible and attending the games. We tend to go into hiding during the off-season, go back home to spend time with Owen and our friends, spend time with each other. We go on vacations, short getaways. I never get enough alone time with her, though.
Is it selfish of me to admit I’m glad Owen’s in college now? He graduated high school last summer and despite Fable wishing he would apply to Stanford, he didn’t. The kid finally got on track, but he doesn’t follow everything his sister wants him to do. He’s completely focused, doing well both at football and in his classes, and he earned a football scholarship and is attending the same university that I did.
When I told him he didn’t need a scholarship and that I could pay for his schooling, he protested.
I want to do this on my own. I want to earn this. Let me.
No way could I protest that. More like I’d been proud. I felt like Fable and I actually did something right—and that something was raise Owen.
He’s much more independent; he has his own car, which I gave him as a graduation gift, and he’s still working at The District. Doesn’t have a steady girlfriend, though, and I told him that was a good thing. He doesn’t need a girl tying him down yet. He needs to focus on himself. Stay young. Be free.
Something I really didn’t do during my high school or college years. I had too much to hide, too much to be ashamed of. It shaded my entire high school experience. I was popular despite how withdrawn I was, but people only cared that I was some sort of football star. And the only thing I could really focus on and enjoy was football. It helped me forget.
Sometimes, it still does.
With Owen’s newfound independence comes Fable’s ability to loosen the motherly strings she has tied around him. She’s moved into the house near Santa Clara during football season and comes to my games. Finally we’re together again, so we can have some much needed alone time. She’s even started traveling with the team a few times, to out-of-town games.
And always, always the media is trailing after us, wanting more photos, more interviews, more, more, more. She’s been on the cover of magazines, mostly the gossipy ones but occasionally others, including a fashion magazine. She was interviewed for a two-page spread in People and on TV. Barbara Walters actually chose the two of us as part of her ten most fascinating people last year.
Freaking unbelievable.
It’s because Fable’s so damn gorgeous yet mysterious. She says a bunch of stuff without ever really saying anything at all. I thought I was a private person, but she puts the P in private, she’s so close-lipped. I’ll give myself some credit, though, and put us on equal footing for being so—ha—fascinating, considering the Niners almost made it to the Super Bowl during my first year as their quarterback. Me, the rookie nobody had any real faith in, almost took the team all the way, but we lost in the final game before the Super Bowl. That sucked. More than anything, that f**king hurt.
I have another chance, though. In fact, I have lots of them, what with many seasons ahead of me considering my multiyear contract. We came out strong at the beginning of this season and we’re still going for it. We’re back and we mean business. The team is on my side now; last year’s season confirmed it.
Plus, f**k it, I’m a nice guy. I’m not an egotistical ass. First, Fable would never let me act like that. And second, I’m not stupid. I need my team. Football is a team sport, for Christ’s sake. I’d be an idiot to shit all over my teammates and then expect them to be devoted to me and play well.