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  "Ouch," I screamed. He grabbed me as I wavered on one foot.

  "You sure you’re okay? You didn't hit your head, did you?" He cradled my cheek.

  I gazed into his eyes, touched by his concern.

  So sweet.

  My lies broke my heart. He leaned over and his lips touched mine.

  I sighed and kissed him back.

  He snaked his arms around my waist and lifted me. My body smashed against his. He held me close as he carried me back to my bed.

  He set me down.

  I didn't want to let him go.

  "I thought you were trying to get dressed." He looked down as his hand on my waist.

  "And I thought guys were always trying to get women to undress." I said.

  He bit my neck and tickled me, which forced me to let go.

  He headed toward the door.

  "Where are you going?" I asked with a pout.

  "I'm going to get you more ice." He palmed the door frame. "Put on some warm clothes."

  I watched him walk away. Nip jumped on the bed and sat with his nose on my thigh. I shook my head and scratched the top of his head. "That was close."

  I changed my clothes, stood up, and hopped to the bathroom. I ran a brush through my hair and leaned against the counter.

  Noah flirting with the nurse bothered me more than I cared to admit. Her shiny, happy disposition flirting back irritated me more. She had been so blatant about it, too.

  He had to deal with that kind of stuff all the time, but I wasn't the jealous type. I knew or thought I knew everything about this man. Everything I knew about him I had found on the Internet. I kind of forgot that everyone else had access to the Internet, too.

  I knew his favorite color and his favorite food. I knew his mother died his sophomore year in college. He and his father were close; he attended every game.

  Now, I knew his hopes and fears, and he knew nothing real about me.

  I needed to tell him the truth.

  I threw the brush down and hopped out of the bathroom.

  I made it to the top of the stairs and maneuvered around Nip without killing myself. He wouldn't leave my side. The stairs loomed like Mount Everest. I sat down and scooted down, one stair at a time.

  "You trying to escape again?" He deep sexy voice stopped me in my tracks.

  My throat hitched.

  Noah stood at the bottom of the stairs.

  "When was I trying to escape before?" I asked.

  "When you left the house to go to the store in a blizzard." He walked up a few steps and reached out his hand. "Even though the house has enough supplies to outlast the apocalypse."

  "Is that why you are here?" I grabbed his hands and stood up. "You want to cut yourself off from the world?"

  "Why are you here?" He turned on me.

  "I asked you first." I stared at my boot-clad foot.

  He groaned.

  I looked up.

  His face turned red. He turned his back on me and stomped into the kitchen.

  I hopped on one foot to follow him.

  "You should stay off that." He pointed.

  "Don't walk away from me when I can't walk." I huffed.

  He turned toward me fast.

  I grabbed the kitchen counter to prevent myself from falling back.

  "What are you asking me?" He asked.

  "I don't know." I didn't know. I came down here to tell him about me, but I ended up picking a fight with him instead. "I just think it’s strange for you to cut yourself off from everyone. You should be showing everyone you're not a bad guy."

  "People don't want to hear from me. They won't hear me. It doesn't matter what I say. It's out of my hands now." He dropped his head.

  "I don't believe that."

  "You don't know what you're talking about." He dropped the ice pack on the counter and headed for the door. "I can't deal with this right now."

  "Noah." I hopped after him. "Don't leave me."

  Thirteen

  Noah

  I stopped at the door.

  The desperation in her voice surprised me; it scared me. I surprised myself because I didn't do desperate woman. Not anymore, but Callie's desperation made me want to find out about her, made me want her more.

  My mind was broken, too.

  "What do you want from me, Callie?" I turned toward her.

  She bit her lip and looked around. She stalled to figure out the right thing to say. I hoped she would say something that would make me want to stay. I didn't want to leave. I wanted to be with her, to learn about her, find out what had her so jumpy and closed off.

  If I could figure her out, then maybe I would find out what held me back, too.

  "Please stay," she groaned as she hopped on one foot toward me. She grabbed the bottom of my shirt. Her green eyes filled with tears.

  "Entertain me," she said as she tugged on my shirt.

  God, how can I resist that?

  I sighed, leaned over, and wrapped my arms around her. She ran her hands up my arms and around my neck. I lifted her up, and she wrapped her legs around my waist. I kissed her neck as she held me tight. I walked over to the couch and laid her down. I stretched out over her, careful not to hurt her ankle.

  I worked my lips up her neck to her cheek and kissed her deeply on the mouth. She moaned, as my tongue tasted hers, our bodies melting into each other. I looked up to stare into her mesmerizing green eyes.

  She had them closed as she gnawed on her bottom lip.

  "Callie." Her eyes shot open.

  "Yeah."

  "You want me to stop?" I asked, shifted, and knelt on the floor.

  "No." She sat up and grunted.

  "Are you in pain?"

  "Yes, but," she pulled me closer, "if you keep kissing me like that, I was hoping the pain would go away."

  "As much as I want to keep kissing you and doing other stuff with you, I think you better take care of your foot." I patted her knee. "We have plenty of time for kissing."

  "And the other stuff?" She blushed at her own comment.

  I laughed. "And the other stuff.”

  She collapsed back on the couch. I stood up and retrieved the ice from the counter. I sat on the other end, took off the boot, and placed the ice on her ankle. I ran my hands up and down her calf.

  She reached for the remote and flipped on the game.

  We watched in silence.

  I hadn't watched a game since our season ended.

  I turned and found her watching me.

  "What?"

  "You want to watch something else?"

  "No, this is fine. Why?" I narrowed my eyes. I hated and loved she could read me.

  "I don't know. You have this weird expression on your face."

  "What expression?"

  "I don't know. Like you want to be out there."

  I grunted. "I do. Our season ended way too soon."

  "Why?"

  "We lost." I tapped her leg.

  "I know, but you played lights out in that game." She grinned.

  "Lights out, huh? How do you know?"

  Her eyes blinked.

  "Umm, I looked up the highlights of your last game."

  "Yeah, well, I can't win a game all by myself." I shook my head. "That game sucked. I don't think I ever felt as bad about a loss as I did that night."

  "I'm sorry." She reached out her hand, and I took it.

  "Yeah, well." I shrugged my shoulders. "It's just a game, right?"

  "I don't believe that." She sat up and squeezed my hand. "It's not just a game to you."

  "No, it's not."

  "What do you love about it?" she asked.

  "Many things. It's the guys in the locker room. It's the competition."

  She eyed me expectantly, waiting for me to continue and answer the questions.

  "When I was little—I must have been four or five—I would watch my dad sit on the couch and watch football all day on Sunday. I remember how much he loved it. He would be so happy when his team
won and so defeated when his team lost."

  "Who was his team?"

  "The Cowboys." I grinned remembering the jersey he wore every Sunday.

  "Oh, I like him already." Callie giggled.

  "When he watched, he went through a million emotions in the course of one afternoon. I never saw him have that kind of emotional reaction to anything but my mom, me, and football."

  "That's so sweet." Callie yawned.

  "You tired?" I asked.

  "No." She leaned back. "Tell me more about your dad."

  "Yeah. He wanted to play when he was young, but he was awful. No athletic ability whatsoever, but he knew everything about every team. He hated his job, but it was bearable because football."

  "What does he do?"

  "He was an accountant for a construction company."

  "He doesn't do it anymore?"

  "No. As soon as I signed my first contract, I made him quit. Told him I needed him to take care of my money."

  "That's nice."

  "Yeah, he's a good guy. He worked hard all his life so I could have everything, and now, I get to pay him back for all he did for me."

  I missed my dad. I knew he was worried about me after the last incident. The last thing I wanted to do was embarrass him or disrespect his name. He told me all the time I had to live my life, but I knew my antics disappointed him.

  Yet, he loved me no matter what.

  We sat and watched more of the game.

  "What about you? You get along with your parents?" I squeezed Callie's hand.

  Her face lit up.

  Why did I have it in my head she had issues with them?

  "My parents are cool. We are close. They are a little controlling of me but let my sister do whatever she wants." She shrugged. "I get it, though. I mean my sister went to college, majored in public relations, and works at a PR firm in Los Angeles. She married her boyfriend she met at freshman orientation. She will probably be pregnant any day now."

  "You didn't follow the script."

  "Not exactly." Callie dropped my hand and hugged herself. "I'm twenty-four years old, I dropped out of college to find myself, and I’m still looking. My parents don't hound me about being a screw up. Instead, they use not-so-subtle financial means to bribe me into figuring it out."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Well, take this brownstone, for example." she waved her hand. "They promised to give it to me if I get my degree."

  "Nice graduation gift." I whistled.

  "Yeah, but then I'm like what if I go to school and still don't know what I want to do? Then it would be a waste."

  "Well, what do you want to do?"

  "I don't know. That's the problem." She stared at me. "How did you know you wanted to be a football player? How did you know you would love it?"

  "I don't know. I guess I liked the game because my dad loved it. When I started playing, I would see him in the stands so proud of me. It was cool. Then I enjoyed the competition, the guys, how all of us were motivated by a common goal. I like to think a father and son are sitting at home on a Sunday together watching me play. Whether they like me or hate me, they can bond over something."

  "See, that's what I need—motivation, a higher purpose."

  "You told me you wanted to be a writer. You dropped out to have life experiences to write about. What happened to that?"

  "I love to write." Her eyes cut back to the television. "I don't think I'm any good at it. My imagination seems to be … limited."

  "Well, have you showed it to anyone?"

  She shook her head.

  I reached my hand out.

  She stared at my open hand.

  "Show it to me."

  Fourteen

  Callie

  Yeah, that's not going to happen.

  I motioned for Nip, and he jumped on the couch on my stomach. He turned around three times and finally settled facing Noah and giving me a view of his backside. My beloved dog chose Noah over me.

  I couldn't blame him.

  He had already fallen in love with Noah. I hated to admit it, but so had I. If I needed any more proof, my jealous episode in the hospital convinced me. I wanted Noah Patrick.

  How could I have him without telling him about what I've been doing for the past three years? How major a part of my life he had been in the past?

  We all sat and watched the rest of the game, the three of us. Our happy little family.

  I ended the getting to know each other session by reverting Noah's attention back to football. I asked him about the game, the rules, and the players.

  Even though I knew about football—I was a huge fan, after all—I enjoyed hearing it from my favorite player's perspective.

  How many fans get this opportunity?

  Ugh, so weird.

  "You broke your foot." My sister shrieked into the phone before I brought the phone to my ear. "Only you would go outside in a blizzard."

  "Who told you?"

  "Mom. After she freaked out about why you don't want her to come up and take care of you."

  "She can't get here anyway. The snow shut down the airports. Besides …" I didn't tell my parents, but I had to tell someone. "Noah's taking care of me."

  "Noah." She scoffed. "It's really sad that you have to rely on a blonde Chihuahua for companionship. Please, just get on a plane and come to LA for a couple of weeks until you can get around."

  "Not my dog, Noah." I blew back an exasperating breath. "His namesake has been taking care of me."

  "Did you hit your head or something?" Dani asked.

  "No."

  "You're not making sense."

  "Would you like me to spell it out for you?"

  "Yes, please, before I have you committed."

  I loved torturing my big sister.

  "Noah Patrick rented the other apartment in the brownstone, and he and I are … together."

  Silence greeted me on the other end. I waited it out. The longer she went without speaking, the more my heart raced and my skin grew hot. She waited for the punchline, which pissed me off. In her mind, she couldn't conceive the possibility that what I said could be true.

  "Dani?"

  "Oh, you're serious?"

  "Why is that so hard to believe?"

  She laughed. A giggle at first, but her chuckle increased to an all-out snort resulting in a hyena-type laugh fest.

  "Wait. Let me get this straight." She giggled again. "The man you have crushed on hard for the last four years. The man you named your dog after. We are talking NFL wide receiver Noah Patrick—girlfriend beater, legendary playboy—is stashed out in some random brownstone in Brooklyn, New York? You two are dating?"

  "Ugh." I screamed, but Dani continued to laugh. "He's not a playboy, and he didn't beat his girlfriend. She made it all up. Geez, read a paper why don't you."

  "He moved into the other apartment? Why?" Dani asked.

  "He just wanted a place to lay low for a while."

  "So he’s passing the time by messing around with you?"

  That hurt.

  "Why do you do that? Why can't you be happy for me? Why are you always putting me down when I do nothing but support you?"

  "I'm sorry, Cal, but you have to admit it’s a little far-fetched."

  "Why would I lie about something like this? How pathetic do you think I am?" I didn't want to know the answer.

  "I don't think you're pathetic." She exhaled. "Okay, so you're dating Noah Patrick."

  Are we dating?

  We hadn't gone out on any dates. We hadn't defined what we were doing. Hell, yesterday, I tried—unsuccessfully, I might add—to get away from him.

  "Can I talk to you about this without you getting weird on me?" I waited for my sister to respond.

  "Yes."

  "And without you laughing at me."

  "Now that I can't promise." Dani laughed.

  "Bye."

  "No wait. I'm sorry. Yes, of course." She exhaled.

  "Okay. So when he showed up, I o
verheard him saying how he was done with women who knew him and only wanted him for his fame and money. The girl who accused him of hitting her, she was all about that. So I've kind of pretended like I don't know him. I don't know anything about him or football."

  "How?" I knew what she was going to say. "Didn't the eighty-nine tattooed on your wrist give him a clue?"

  "I told him it was the year Mom and Dad got married."

  "What about Noah?"

  "What about Noah?"

  She sighed in frustration. "The dog, Noah. Doesn't he think it's weird that he and your dog have the same name?"

  "Well, I told him Noah's name was Noel."

  "Oh, my God. You changed your dog’s name?"

  "Can I continue?"

  "Yeah, go on." Her tone was less than supportive.

  "So he invited me over for dinner a few nights ago and we had an amazing time. He told me about the girl and that whole situation. It was so easy to talk to him. He is nothing like I expected him to be."

  "Did you sleep with him?"

  "No, Dani, I just met him. I'm not like you."

  That quieted her down. I felt bad as soon as I said it, but I didn't apologize.

  "We kissed and made out a little and then I felt bad because I didn't tell him about my crush—"

  "Obsession."

  "Whatever. So I was going to take Nip and go stay at Mom and Dad's, but I broke my foot on the front stoop."

  "Ouch."

  "He carried me to the hospital."

  "Awww."

  Even that had my hard-hearted sister swooning.

  "And he's been taking care of me ever since."

  "Where is he now?"

  "He went back to his place."

  "Well, do you like him?" she asked.

  "I do. But I've already messed up. I mean we started this thing with a lie, several lies, and stupid lies at that. I'm exactly the kind of girl he's trying to avoid. Once I tell him I've lied to him, he won't want anything to do with me."

  I left out the part about once he finds out about my fantasy blog about him, he will be creeped out first and then want nothing to do with me.

  "Maybe you're right, but you have to tell him."

  "Why? Why do I have to tell him?"

  "Well, don't tell him and enjoy him while you can."

  "Dani, I'm in love with him."