Third and Long: A Sports Romance (21 page)

“Nice. Who’s your favorite pro player?” I ask.

One thing I admire about Tamber is that she is always open about the stuff she doesn’t care about, and she did not really care about football. I found that so refreshing. So many people try to become your best friend when they find out you play.

“Oh you know, I have so many,” she says. “It’s hard to pick just one.”

“I have that problem too,” I say. Yeah right.

“So you grew up in this house?” she asks, quickly changing the subject.

“Yup.”

“You must have had some fabulous parties here! I’m thinking Gatsby-style bashes right?”

“I’m really more of a bar and beers kind of guy,” I say.

“So I’ve heard. They love taking pictures of you. Of course you’ll have to stop that now that we are to be engaged.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well Logan, we have appearances to maintain. We can’t be seen partying with,” she says, her voice getting really low, “average people.”

Average people. My kind of people. The kind of people that aren’t afraid to get nasty and throw some shots back with me. I can see why my dad likes Katerina: live life my way or no way.

“You’re a real high fashion kind of girl aren’t you?” I ask.

“Exactly!” she says with a big condescending smile on her face. She’s happy that I’m following along. “There’s a lot about me you’ll get used to. I have a lot of quirks and I’m kind of known for being a little high maintenance, but you’ll get used to it.”

I struggle to think of one demand that Tamber ever made of me.

“Sounds great Kat,” I say.

“Oh please don’t call me Kat,” she says. “It’s Katerina. Soon to be Katerina Oliver.”

She smiles like a kook when she puts my last name there. I try my hardest not to groan.

“By the way Logan, I realize that getting declared for the draft is important to you and all,” she says.

In my head I’m trying to figure out how “getting declared for the draft” makes any kind of sense. She’s a real football fan. I can tell.

“But that’s just for play right? You’ll be taking over your father’s business?” she asks.

I can see the dollar signs in her eyes, and my parents thought Tamber was the gold digger. It’s a good thing Jeffrey comes around to refill my mimosa because otherwise I might say something that I’ll soon regret.

Then mom pokes her head outside and requests that Katerina come with her for a minute.

As soon as Katerina is out of sight, I send a message to Tamber. There’s so much more I want to tell her that would absolutely not be fair to her right now. I want to tell her that she’s the one I really want, and that Katerina means nothing. However, I have no idea how these next few days are going to play out.

My parents and Katerina’s parents have no doubt worked out a whole itinerary of events with the aim to help us get to know each other. It’s not like I have school and a game against Alabama to prepare for. No one in this house gives a fuck about football. I need to get out of here.

Before I head back to Rome, my dad is going to pull me aside and make me break things off with Tamber. That’s the kind of asshole power move that my dad is known for. And he will do it. There’s no way that he sent for Katerina without having that intention.

I want to text Tamber and tell her that I have to go along with the dog and pony show for a few days. That I’ll do my best to make a terrible impression on Katerina. That I’ll send her packing back to New York never wanting to see me again.

I want to tell Tamber that I love her, and that all she needs to do is hang tough for a couple of days while I work things out.

Instead I settle for the most cowardly thing I’ve ever done, a message that I wish I never sent.

Going to be busy for a few days. I’m sorry. I’ll call you as soon as I can.

I keep my phone in hand waiting for a response from her that never comes.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Tamber

The one that got away.

Not a job, not an internship, not a grade in class. A man. Logan Oliver III.

Tell me three weeks ago that I’d be fretting about losing a man, and I’d call you a liar.

We were playing. It was a game. Pretend we’re engaged. Then the game got real. We went from playing flag football to full contact. Emphasis on the contact.

The talk of Rome for two whole days has been the impending engagement of local hero and football stud Logan Oliver III to popular online fashion magnate and New York socialite Katerina Prescott.

Meanwhile no one in the media has ever heard of Tamber Long. They all have my blurry picture, but they don’t know who I am. They don’t know that I spent the weekend engaged to him. It is the strangest fucking thing in the world.

I spend most of Monday running mad. The track was busy with students trying to get in shape for the holidays. At one point I actually run past a group of girls talking about Logan and Katerina. I press on and turn up my music. Am I sad, angry, or numb?

Tuesday morning Gwen stops me in the kitchen. I’m in the middle of cooking some eggs and brewing a pot of coffee for us both. Life seems to have returned to normal. What ever that is.

“Hey Tam?” Gwen asks as I our two big ass cups of coffee.

“Please tell me this isn’t about Logan,” I say, adding some cream and sugar.

Gwen tugs on her collar dramatically.

“Alright what is it?” I ask.

She points to my ring finger. Left hand. I’m still wearing the engagement ring that Logan had given me moments before I met his parents.

“Oh fuck me,” I mutter, handing Gwen her coffee.

The rock is enormous. How could I possibly forget that I’m wearing it? Gwen understands when I grab my cup and retreat to my bedroom. I slam the door behind me.

For a few minutes I can’t help but stand there and admire the ring on my finger. It must be 5 carats which is insane, but then again money is no object to a guy with a limitless black credit card. Suddenly it occurs to me that Logan entrusted me with something that cost ten times my college tuition. Talk about bizarre.

Right now it’s hidden safely away in my night stand. I’ll give it back to Logan if I ever see him again. He sent me a noncommittal text message Monday morning that really pissed me off. Fake engagement or not, I deserve more than that.

I deserve more than a token text message that says “sorry I’m busy. Talk to you later.”

Mainly I need to get my mind off Logan Oliver, Katerina Prescott, and the whole stupid weekend I spent in fantasy land.

So on Wednesday, I arrange a meeting with The Party Girls at the school library in order to get the end of our project going once and for all. The etiquette app might be the only good thing to come out of last weekend. The Party Girls had better agree to it because I swear to god if I have to listen to another vapid suggestion, I’m going to scream.

As usual I get to our spot in the library well ahead of Nayvee, Bailey and Kimber. By the time they roll in, obviously hungover, I’ve got my laptop set up with some basic ideas going for the etiquette app. The Party Girls sit down at the table and immediately get on their cell phones, ignoring that I’m already working.

“So would you gals like to get started?” I ask.

“Oh my god,” Nayvee says, “did you hear the news?”

“About Logan Oliver?” Bailey asks.

“Logan? What’s up with his sexy ass? I’ve been in Cabo all weekend,” Kimber says.

“Logan’s getting engaged to Katerina Prescott!” Bailey says.

“Shut up!” Kimber says. “I love Katerina. She’s so funny.”

“I know. I am so fucking jealous of her,” Nayvee says.

“I would kill to be her. Marrying Logan? Oh my god!” Bailey says.

“Do you guys think it’s true what they say about him?” Nayvee asks.

“Uh yes!” Kimber says. “I know at least two girls who can confirm. The biggest.”

“Bullshit,” Bailey says. “How’s he running around in those tight little football pants with a monster like that?”

“That’s why he never gets sacked. Third leg and all,” Nayvee says.

I’m sitting there starring over the top of my laptop, and I want to scream. This is literally the most surreal thing that’s ever happened to me. The Party Girls debating Logan’s—uh—merits, while I’m sitting here like chopped liver.

Then it hits me. A way to get their attention. A blurry mess of a terrible picture unless you know what you’re looking for.

I hop on the Internet and pull up the
Dirty’s
website. That’s when my plan goes slightly awry. The first half of the page is now taken up with pictures of Logan and Katerina. Apparently his dad invited the local news out to their mansion for a photo shoot.

There’s pictures of Logan and Katerina riding Surefire and Daisy, another picture of them down in the entertainment room, and lastly a picture of them testing out Jeffrey’s latest batch of beer. All the places he took me. I find myself awkwardly feeling for the engagement ring that isn’t there. It’s back in my nightstand. Talk about awkward.

I try not to get choked up, yet at the same time this terrible sense of betrayal comes over me.

“Hey Tamber are you okay?” Bailey asks as my lip trembles.

I turn my laptop around and show them the blurry picture of Logan and me. I’m sure they saw it on the
Dirty,
but they never would have suspected that I’m the blurry girl.

“What is that?” Kimber asks. Then she focuses. Nayvee and Bailey focus too. Someone turns a light bulb on in their head.

“Wait is that you Tamber?” Nayvee asks.

I nod my head.

“This was like a week ago!” Bailey says. “Oh shit were you dating him?”

They study the picture for ages, verifying that it is, in fact, me. The irony is that I can’t even tell them the whole story. They’d never believe a thing about my weekend.

“We went on a date,” I say, shrugging my shoulders.

“So?” Nayvee asks excitedly. She puts her fingers together and slowly starts spreading them out, measuring my reaction.

I indicate she should keep going. Everyone giggles like an idiot when I finally tell Nayvee to stop once her fingers are approximating Logan’s size.

“Holy shit,” Kimber says.

Suddenly I’m the star of the fucking show. They can’t help but ask me a million questions about Logan. For once they also want to know about me. They want to know how a bookworm like me met Logan. I tell the track story and they love it.

Two hours go by and we’re still talking about Logan. We’re losing all track of time. When I notice how late it’s getting, I start to freak. After all this time, I’ve finally got these girls to pay attention to me, and we’ve barely managed to get anything done!

It takes a little coaxing to get them back on track. Finally they all take out their laptops, so I can share the document with them.

“Okay here’s our product. It’s an etiquette app, so…”

“So if you’re out on a date with a rich guy like Logan?” Kimber asks.

“Yeah, and…”

“And if he takes you out then you know what to wear?” Bailey asks.

“Right and…”

“And if he wants to fly you to France you know which fork to pick up first?” Nayvee asks.

That’s all it took. A little nudging and the ideas are finally flying right out of them. I actually can’t believe it. They blather on with idea after idea. If I knew that all it took was mentioning that I’d gone on a date with Logan, I’d have done that days ago. I’d have lied about it weeks ago!

In thirty minutes we have the entire product mapped out. The one saving grace of this semester is that Professor Asshole doesn’t need us to actually make the product. A design document is enough, however, the hard work from here on out is figuring out how to market it on social media. That’s where The Party Girls’ expertise lies. They spend their entire lives online.

We divvy up the work and agree to meet in one week. Despite their enthusiasm, I still volunteer for the most time consuming part. I’m going to need something to take my mind off Logan anyway. By the time Katerina actually leaves, I suspect he’ll have forgotten all about me. That’s why I didn’t respond to his text message. If his parents are insistent on marrying him off to her then there’s no reason to make things hard on ourselves.

Logan Oliver III. The one that got away?

He’s a special guy. He’s special, I had him, and I let him get away.

I don’t love Logan. I can’t. Not after all this.

No I don’t love Logan. There was a brief window where I could have loved him, but I don’t. I can’t.

He’s getting married to Katerina now. Meanwhile I’ve got a project to finish.

The Party Girls gather their things and take a selfie with me, the girl who dated Logan however briefly. They forward the selfie to me. It’s a cute picture, and I’ve got the weirdest smile on my face.

Then I realize that I was smiling because I couldn’t help but think about Logan’s touch and his tongue.