I really thought it'd be a good day.

I had such a spectacularly good morning. Even though Mila's so far away, I feel like we're getting closer and closer every day, and the more I peel off her layers, the more I like what I see. I've never met a woman this multifaceted and full of surprises.

But then I went into that studio, and this goddamn skank of a woman couldn't stop ogling me and asking all those stupid questions. I was so close to losing it completely, but I promised Mila I'd keep this quiet between us, and I couldn't lose my cool just because this woman knew which buttons to press.

I'm glad I kept it together, just a little at least. But as soon as I got out of that room, quickly escorted by the network's security team, I ran into Hank. Of course. And he was unimpressed as hell.

"What the hell were you thinking, Ice? You know our strategy. Bachelor quarterback, available for those desperate women out there—because who knows? You might just give them a chance." He waves his hands around to get his point across, but I can only roll my eyes as I stride past him.

"Yeah, I didn't think anything. I don't care, Hank."

"What?"

"I won't give anyone a chance—did you not hear me out there?" I turn around and glare at him.

"Of course I did, but you can't just go around and ruin your reputation for some fucking fling!"

"She's not just a fling, Hank!" I'm close to punching him by now. I guess that's why I spin on my heels and walk away, not once looking back.

"Then who is she?" His voice echoes through the hallway.

"I said it to Annie and I'll say it to you, Hank. It's none of your fucking business!"

I rush out of the building and into the next cab, wanting to get the hell out of here. By the time I finally get into my hotel room, all I want to do is call Mila, hear her voice, tell her why I just did that...because fuck, I really didn't think. Annie was right—the media is going to freak out tomorrow, and even though I don't give a shit about it, I know Mila does.

"Where the fuck is it?" I groan as I search through my bag. But of course, I seem to have lost my mind. I can't find my damn phone anywhere, and in my situation, my phone is tightly bound to my sanity. "Shit, I must've left it at the studio."

I can't even call anyone to ask; I don't have my goddamn phone. Considering how the whole thing with Mila started, this is just ridiculous.

What do I do now?

My gaze flicks to my football gear in the bag near the door, and suddenly an idea crosses my mind. "Kilian." Yes, Kill should be here.

I run down the hallway until I reach his room, and I slam my fist against the door, impatience getting the better of me.

"Hayden?" A blonde with undeniable similarities to my best friend opens the door.

My eyes widen at the sight of Kill's big sister, her hand propped on her hip as she throws her thin arms around me.

"Wow, it's been a while! How are you doing?"

I quickly break out of her hug, the scent of her distinct perfume immediately making me scrunch my nose as I pull back. "I'm good, thanks, Kim."

Silence settles between us as I step inside the room and take a seat on the lounge chair, watching how she drapes herself on the couch opposite to me in typical Kim-fashion. She's always been a showgirl, and even though I've known her a long time, I still don't understand her way of life.

"So, where is he?" I ask while looking around the room, trying to diminish the awkward silence.

"Oh, he's just taking a shower. He should be out in a minute." She bats her eyelashes at me while leaning back on the couch, obviously unable to read the room. "So. I've heard you met someone?"

Her question catches me off guard, and I have to suppress a groan when I shake my head. "Please don't tell me that's out already."

"Well, you were on that show just a few hours ago. And Kill also told me about her."

I'm going to kill him. "He what?"

"Oh, don't worry. He didn't tell me any details, only that you met someone a few weeks ago. So...who is she?" She studies me with curiosity.

"She's..." I sigh. "Well, she's someone who wants to stay behind the curtain, so I'm not going to tell you much."

"Oh?" Her mouth stays in an O shape as she widens her eyes at me.

"Yeah. It's complicated."

"I'm sure it is."

Her reaction makes me think. I've known Kim as long as Kill has been in my life, which is a damn long time. And even though we don't see each other that often, I usually enjoyed hanging out with her, but she's...she's like a female version of Kill. A bit more ruthless, maybe.

She always strived for attention and fame, unlike me. And that's probably the biggest reason we didn't hang out anymore after a while. When she wanted to go to fancy red-carpet parties, always looking for the spotlight, I preferred to stay out of it.

"So...how are you?" she asks with a smile, her manicured fingers tapping on her knee.

"I've been great, actually."

"Because of the girl?" Her honeyed voice makes me narrow my eyes.

"Because of the woman in my life, yes," I correct her. If there's one thing I've learned in these past weeks, it's that Mila is no girl. At all. "What about you?" I somehow feel compelled to ask.

Her face lights up at my question, and she immediately tells me about all her plans, including the new makeup campaign she launches next week. It's fitting, really. She always took ages getting ready, and considering she did a lot of modeling jobs over the past years, it's obvious a makeup line is something she'd do.

"So yeah...modeling's been fun, but I think it's time I stand on my own feet, you know?" she admits. Kim has always been in Kill's shadow, but at some point she decided to turn the tables, using his fame to find a footing in the VIP world, and it seems like she's been successful too. "So, what are you doing tonight?" She abruptly changes the topic, and I swiftly glance at my watch.

"I, uh...I actually have a meeting in an hour. After that, there's this promotion I gotta run, which will probably take ages, and after that, I'm just looking forward to getting into bed." And finally speak to Mila...

"Dude, you gotta come to this party with us!" Kill walks out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist as he runs a hand through his wet hair.

"Nope, I really don't," I answer dryly.

"Oh, come on. You're not even asking what kind of party it is?"

"Nope."

"Come on, Hay." Kim calls me by the nickname she used all those years ago, and I can't deny that something irks me about it.

"Really, man. Don't leave my sis hanging now that she's here for once. I know you wanna have candy talk with your girl, but you can always do that later," Killian suddenly chimes in.

"Candy talk?" I raise an eyebrow at my best friend.

"Yeah, your voice always turns sugar sweet when you talk to her." He shrugs.

I can't help but laugh at that statement, knowing it's probably true. "Jesus."

"Yeah, Jesus. So. Come on, it doesn't have to be for long...just do it."

I think about it. I definitely need to talk to Mila before I go anywhere right now. I have no idea what she's thinking of all of this. "I need your phone first." I stretch my palm out to him.

"Why?"

"Just give it to me, asshole."

"Okay, geez." He raises his hands before he grabs the phone from the table and throws it over to me. As soon as I catch it, I fly through the contacts, hoping to find her there.

"What did you save her as?"

"Save who as?"

Gods, my best friend is dumb as hell. "You know who, idiot."

"Oh man, really? Now you're using my precious phone to candy talk to your girlfriend?"

I don't think I've ever been this dumbfounded by a single word. Girlfriend. People are putting labels on us before we've even had the chance to talk about it. "I forgot my phone at the studio." I'm growing impatient suddenly. "Just tell me."

"I didn't save it, man. I remember a certain quarterback told me he'd break my nose if I kept that number. You know I won't do you like that, man."

Fucking possessiveness, Hayden. "Shit, alright. Let me call the studio."

That phone call was a damn disaster too. It took them fifteen minutes to find my phone, only to see that the battery died, and the woman on the other end of the line was not happy to hear from me at all. They also told me they were just about to leave the premises, meaning I'd have to wait until the night guard comes by to pick it up.

"Fucking hell." I run a hand through my hair when I hand the phone back to Kilian, who by now changed into clothes.

"What is it?"

"They said I can only pick it up after seven today. You know, you'd think they'd be a little friendlier to someone who just skyrocketed their views for the day..."

"Well, you did kind of swear on live television. And you weren't particularly nice to Annie, either."

I groan at Kill's words, knowing he's right, in a way.

"Wait, you were at BGM, right?" Kim suddenly speaks up.

"Yeah."

"That's, like, right next to the Giolaggi. Now, guess where that party's gonna be tonight..." She grins and claps her hand in excitement, although I haven't really agreed to anything yet.

"Dude, you have no excuse now. The party starts at six. Just come there with us, and if you don't enjoy yourself, you can leave after an hour and get your phone, and everything will be fine." My best friend throws me that pleading puppy look.

God, I hate when he does that.

"I hate you," I mutter, but Kill grins widely as he throws his arm over my shoulder, excitement written all over his face.

And even though he seems happy as fuck, I get the feeling something is about to go terribly, terribly wrong.

***

Kim eyes me up and down as a greeting, a grin curling on her lips when she waves me inside. "Wow, you look dashing, Hay."

"Thanks, so do you." It's a half lie, but I don't want to be rude. Kim always seemed fake, and I can't help but compare her to the natural beauty Mila radiates every second of every day. I think nothing will ever get close to her appearance for me now.

Kill soon joins us, and we're on our way to this goddamn party after a few more minutes. "Fuck, I'm such an idiot." He groans as we all step out of the limousine he ordered.

"Well, that's not news to me. What is it?" I grin, not even caring when he punches my shoulder rougher than I expected.

But then Kim suddenly trips over her dress and holds on to my arm to steady herself, while I just grab her elbow so she doesn't fall down. "Shit, sorry." She straightens out her dress, and from the corner of my eye, I notice there are already a shit-ton of people around us, including those goddamn paparazzi. Shit, I need to get away from here...

"What is it, Kill?" I turn back around to face him.

"I forgot my fucking phone," he finally admits. Because yeah, that's the kind of day it's been.

"You're such an idiot." I shake my head with a laugh.

"Right back at ya, buddy...I'll be back soon, promise."

"You'd better hurry, asshole!" I call after him as he jumps back into the limousine.

Seconds later, Kim drags me into the venue and grabs two glasses of champagne, handing one of them over with a smile. I don't know why, but as I look at her at that moment, I suddenly wonder what the fuck I'm doing here.

I despise these events. I hate the fake smiles; I hate the goddamn sneaky fuckers around every corner, waiting for you to slip so they can sell their photos to the press... I hate it. I force distance between Kim and me, somehow feeling really fucking weird and out of place with her next to me. Mila should be there, not her.

"Did I do something?" she asks when I lean against the wall after mingling a little. Because that's what you do at these parties, you mingle... Fucking hell.

"What? Why?" I ask.

"I don't know, you've been quiet," she admits, and I get what she means.

I haven't been myself today. I couldn't talk to Mila, and I'm worried as hell; I know she has a big day tomorrow with her dad, and I want to talk to her about it. "I just want to get my goddamn phone, honestly," I confess.

Kim nods, something sad in her eyes when she replies, "You must like that girl."

"Yeah, I do," I answer without hesitation. She needs to know where my priorities lie. I'm definitely not going down that road again. We had that talk years ago when I started my career, and I made it abundantly clear I'm not getting involved with my best friend's sister. Not that I wanted to, anyway. Kim's never been of interest to me. She's...artificial somehow.

She doesn't respond, and then we stand in awkward silence for a while, both of us obviously not knowing what to do. I see people walking around and inspecting us, and I'm really starting to get anxious. I just want to be anywhere but here.

"There you are!" Kilian's voice from right behind us saves the day.

God, never in my life have I been so happy to see that idiot. "You made it!" I slap his shoulder, ready to get the hell out of this nightmare.

"Sorry, I bumped into Abe on my way here. He'll join us in a couple of minutes."

"Well, that's good. That means I can go now, right?"

"Oh, come on, man," he whines, but I shake my head in response.

"I'll make it up to you, promise."

He punches my shoulder, and I punch him right back, making both of us laugh as he rubs the spot my fist just met. "Fuck, man, why you always gotta show off like that?"

"You started it." I shrug.

"Yeah, yeah. Get out of here, candy boy."

I'm not waiting for him to say it twice; instead, I immediately rush out of there and into the studio right next door, absolutely losing my patience now.

It takes a while for the guy to find my phone, but after a couple of minutes, he hands it over, and I thank whoever invented those goddamn portable power banks. As soon as I get into the next cab, I plug my phone in and let it start, which of course takes longer than expected.

I'm getting so fucking impatient, I really want to punch that call button as soon as the screen turns on. But then the notifications roll in, and only now do I realize it's almost eight already. The goddamn notifications don't stop at all, either. That's what happens when you go from meeting to meeting without having your phone to update you. When they finally all load, the first thing I notice is that Mila called my voicemail without leaving a message. That's weird.

Then I see a ton of social media alerts, but I don't really give a damn about that, so I continue to scroll. By the time I get to the hotel and into the elevator, I see a message from Mila, which instantly elicits a grin on my lips. It's insane how her name has this effect on me.

But as quickly as that grin appears, it must plummet off my face the second I read the message.

Hope you had a great night. Right beneath it, she shared a link to an article. The front page shows Kim and me, looking way too cozy for my liking. But then I read the headline, and if my smile hadn't faded already, it sure as hell vanishes right now. "No. No, no... Shit, fuck, shit!"

The article sells the story of me falling in love with my teammate's sister, perfect romance, power couple and all. I want to vomit from just reading it.

"Fuck." I immediately hit the call button and try calling Mila, but her phone goes straight to voicemail. "Don't do this, Lucky. You're smarter than this."

I'm such a goddamn idiot. I should've texted her right away. I shouldn't have gone to this party. I could literally sense things were going to go wrong.

When I walk into my hotel room, I try to call her a few times, but of course, no luck. I can only imagine how she must feel right now. Shit.

I really have no fucking clue what to do. Do I go the calm way? The direct way? Do I give her space?

No. Fuck space.

Lucky, please pick up your phone. Let me talk to you, please. I shoot the text; I can't deny I'm a little disappointed she believes everything she reads, but honestly, I also get it. This thing we have is still fairly new, even though it might not feel like it, and something like this was bound to happen eventually. I send a new message. I'm serious, Mila. Pick up your phone, please. Throwing my phone on the lounge chair, I run a hand through my hair, frustrated as hell at the recent turn of events.

I'm struggling to find the right way to approach her. She's an extraordinary and complex woman, but there's one thing that's prominent, always has been. Mila wants me to be straightforward and open.

"Guess that's the route I'm taking, then." I pick up my phone and call her again, and I'm not surprised when her voicemail picks up.

"Lucky, listen. I'll give you until 10 AM tomorrow to call or text me, because I know you think you need space right now. But listen carefully. I want to explain myself, and if you don't get back to me by tomorrow morning, I swear I'll get on the next fucking plane, helicopter, jet pack, whatever's available, and I'll stand in front of your goddamn door. Because I will not let you run away from this now. It's your decision, but please...just...just let me explain. Properly."

A heavy sigh escapes my throat, and I realize how much those words are true. She can run, but she can't hide.

"I miss you, Mila. Please, give me a chance."