Chapter 2: Nova

“You’re coming,” I say, turning to check out the back of my dress in the hotel’s mirror. 

Allegra doesn’t reply and I cut my gaze to hers in the reflection. 

She smirks. “As if I’d let you go solo.”

Relief flows through me and I smile at A. “Thank you.”

“What was it like, seeing him again?” 

I face the mirror and pretend to fix my lip liner as I choose my words. “Everything,” I admit. “I miss him. I miss him so much. And yet”—I turn to look at Allegra—“I’m proud of him.” I grin. “He won! I mean, that was his biggest dream, and he did it his first season as a rookie!” 

“He had an incredible season,” she agrees. 

“Didn’t know you were keeping tabs.” I raise an eyebrow.

Derek snorts as he enters my hotel room. We’re staying in a three-bedroom suite—me, Derek and Allegra, and Allegra’s brother Levi who skipped the game to catch up with one of his sponsors from rehab. That’s why Derek, Allegra, and Levi are in town—to show support for a new clinic Levi’s sponsor is opening through a partnership with the Harrison Foundation. 

When Allegra called me about the Super Bowl tickets, I didn’t think. I just packed, booked a flight, and made it to Knoxville as quickly as I could. It wasn’t rational. In fact, if I think it over logically, it was stupid. 

This visit threatens to set back all the progress I’ve made over the past five months. Moving on from West has been debilitating. But necessary. Seeing him tonight has already affected me. Spending the next few hours talking to him? Laughing with him? Feeling his strength envelop me as he wraps an arm around my waist? I don’t stand a fucking chance. 

A masochist. That’s what I am.

Or just foolishly in love with a man I can’t have.

“What?” I ask the infamous rockstar. 

“Of course, we kept tabs. To be honest, it wasn’t hard. West is the best rookie—and one of the most talked about running backs—in the league.”

“Facts. And,” Allegra continues, pointing at me. “I know you aren’t over him.”

Derek’s mouth twitches but he doesn’t say anything. I stick my tongue out at him, and he shakes his head, bends to place a quick peck on Allegra’s lips, and leaves the room. “I’m ready when you are!” he calls over his shoulder. 

“You’re not,” Allegra repeats, looking at me, as if Derek didn’t waltz in here to check on girl talk. He pretends he’s not invested but he wants the spilled tea as much as any of us. 

I sigh. “Of course, I’m not. I don’t know if I’ll ever be over West, but I have to move on. I can’t keep wondering what he’s up to or what’s happening in his life. Not when he’s here, I’m in Paris, and my family needs me. Dad and my brothers entrusted me with a huge project. They’ve given me a lot of leeway to try new things, to find my footing within the family business. I don’t want to let them down.”

Allegra’s expression softens. “You won’t, Nova.” She stands and walks toward me. She spins me until we’re both facing the mirror. Then, she slings an arm around my waist and tips her head against mine. “You never let anyone down.”

“Except West,” I admit. I can still hear the heartache laced in his voice when we ended things for good. It was a phone call, a broken goodbye, a string of text messages that gathered more time in between replies. 

And then, it was over. 

“Enjoy tonight,” Allegra gives me a squeeze. “You look fierce.”

I manage a small smile as I drag my palms over my hips. I’m wearing a short, gold body con dress with thin straps. My hair is still pulled back, so I paired it with crimson-red drop earrings. 

“One last hurrah,” I murmur, repeating West’s words. 

Then, I slip into a leather jacket, slide into my pumps, and tuck a clutch under my arm. 

Tonight, I’m going to enjoy my time with West. Because in the morning, it will all be over. Done. For real this time. 

* * *

Allegra and Derek promise to meet us at the after-party. As such, I slide into the passenger seat of West’s ride solo, and I’m met with a slew of memories. 

Riding shotgun, with my feet stacked on his dashboard, singing out of tune to oldies music. 

Making out every time a simple good-night kiss turned into so much more. 

Laying in the bed of his truck and staring up at the stars, making wishes, sharing dreams. 

I click in my seat belt, pull in a breath, and savor it. 

“I figured you’d buy a new ride,” I joke, leaning back into the comfortable, well-worn leather of his F-150.

West smirks. “Nah. Too many memories with Tillie.”

I snort, shaking my head at his truck’s name. 

But Tillie’s been a part of our story since the beginning, and I love that he held onto his truck. Onto the memories we made in her. 

“You look stunning, Nov.” West’s eyes burn as he glances at me. One side of his mouth pulls into a smile. “Too pretty to be on my arm.”

“Shut up,” I joke, swatting at him. 

He slips his palm over the top of the steering wheel and pulls away from the Premier Hotel. 

“What’ve you been up to?” West asks after a few seconds of silence. 

I study his profile as he drives. His hair is cropped close to his head, but the top showcases his brown curls. I used to love twirling them around my finger and tugging to get his attention. West is freshly shaved, his jawline stronger than I remember. High cheekbones, a cleft in the center of his chin, and a dimple that appears in his right cheek when he smiles.

God, I’ve missed him. 

“Nov?” He glances at me. His eyes are so dark, they’re nearly black. 

I clear my throat. Flash a smile. “Working mostly. My first few months were spent taking care of Dad. He’s stable now and in good spirits. But he’s not able to work the way he used to. It was a lot for my brothers, so they’ve turned a good chunk of it—first, the tasting rooms, and now, several accounts too—over to me. I really want to finalize the tasting space in Paris. Gabriel and Jacques are used to doing everything from the vineyard, but I think having a presence in the city will make a big impact. Especially with the restaurants we’re trying to woo.” 

“Wow,” West says, nodding along. “You’ve been busy, babe.” The term of endearment slips from his mouth and neither of us corrects it. 

Babe. Yeah, it’s a generic word. 

But when West says it…butterflies dance in my belly, their wings turning my nerves into excitement. Expectation. 

“Yeah,” I agree. “Well, you’ve been unstoppable. How do you like Knoxville?” 

West tilts his head, considering my question. “I like it. I mean, the team’s incredible. Facilities are top-notch. Coaches are great. It just…you know, it takes me time to find my place is all.”

“Yeah.” West keeps to himself until he connects with someone. Until that point, he’s friendly and loyal but doesn’t give himself fully. It took months for me to wear him down, and even after we exchanged declarations of love, he never shared all the details of his painful childhood or how much his mother’s death affects him. “I remember,” I say lightly. 

He chuckles and reaches over, placing a hand on my thigh. He gives it a gentle squeeze and a shiver runs down my spine. 

It feels so natural. So…right. 

And yet, this is it. I need to stop living in the past and move…forward. Focus on Paris. On my family. The business. 

“Please,” West scoffs. “Took me no time where you were concerned.”

And I know that from his perspective—and how few people he’s counted on in his life—he’s telling the truth. West let me in deeper than anyone else and now, we’re both trying to heal from the heartache our breakup caused. 

Still, his words light me up from the inside out. The truth is, we fell for each other fast. Hard. And it was easy. Right. 

I shake my head. “I wish our circumstances were different.”

He gives me a look. Those eyes midnight black and solemn as hell. “Me too, baby. More than you know.”

A beat of silence passes and then, I reach for the volume, turning it up to lighten the mood. “All right, West. Tonight, we celebrate your success. You won! And I’m here to witness it. Tonight’s a good night.”

He nods slowly. When he looks at me again, there’s more warmth in his gaze. “Tonight’s a great night, Supernova.” 

I snort at the stupid nickname. It’s hardly original, but again, when West says it, it holds a different meaning. 

He pulls in front of a downtown club. Getting out of his truck, he tosses his keys to a valet. When the guy notes West, he scrambles forward. 

“West Crawford!” the valet exclaims, jutting out a hand. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

“Thanks, man! Keep my baby Tillie safe, yeah?” West asks. 

The kid’s eyes are round as teacup saucers. “Of course.”

West chuckles. Easy. Affable. So goddamn likable. I wonder if people realize how much more depth there is to him. He always said I was the only person who truly knows him. 

And eventually, someone else will too, right? Another woman. Ugh. The thought sours my stomach. 

Stop it. Tonight is a good night. A celebration. 

“Appreciate you.” West points at the valet as he rounds the front of the truck. 

Then, he’s pulling open the passenger door. Extending his hand, like a gentleman. Staring at me with so many emotions in his eyes, it makes my head spin. 

“You ready, Nov?” 

I nod and step down from his truck. Even in heels, the top of my head barely grazes his chin. “Ready.”

He laces our fingers together and leads me into an after-party that is both elegant and wild. Glitzy and raucous. 

A cheer rings out when West crosses the threshold.

I note the surprise in his teammates’ gazes, the hate on the faces of women who are always going to hate, and the curious glances of everyone else, as they clock my hand in his. 

But I ignore everyone because I’m here for West. 

And yeah, it may not be for forever. But for tonight, he’s my sole focus. I don’t care about photographers and social media posts. I’m not interested in gossip and rumors. 

I’m here because I couldn’t not show up for the man who showed me what being in love feels like. 

It’s bittersweet as hell but for tonight, I get to drown in the sweet and save the bitter for another day. Like tomorrow. 

“You made it!” the team captain, Avery, says, passing us each a flute of champagne. 

“Yeah,” West mumbles, never good at small talk. 

“Congratulations!” I drop West’s hand to accept the flute and hold out my free hand toward Avery. “I’m Nova.”

A flicker of recognition zips through his irises. 

Does the team know about me? What did West tell them? We were together through training camp and preseason but were hardly speaking by the time the regular season was underway. 

“Good to meet you,” Avery says neutrally. 

I dip my head. I like that he gives nothing away. I like that he has West’s back. West deserves teammates that protect him. God knows he spent years of his life protecting others. 

“Hi!” a friendly voice rings out. In the next moment, a woman who bears a resemblance to Avery appears. “I’m Raia! I’m this one’s sister.” She pushes Avery’s shoulder. “And that one’s girlfriend.” She points to a blond guy who is making a group of people crack up as he juggles bottles of tequila. 

I grin and give a little wave. “Nice to meet you, Raia. I’m Nova.”

“Come on, come meet everyone.” Raia latches onto my arm and pulls me deeper into a VIP area where the team is hanging out. 

I glance at West, but he gives me a nod, letting me know I’m in good hands. His team captain leans closer and mutters something to him. 

West looks away and I suck in an inhale. 

Tonight, I need to walk a fine line. I may have arrived on West’s arm but when I leave tonight, I’m doing it solo. 

No looks back. 

No second chance. 

There’s only this moment. And then, I have to say goodbye. 

Lifting the champagne flute to my lips, I take a sip. 

The bubbles dance over my tongue and down my throat. I relish the crisp sweetness and steel my shoulders. 

Tonight, I’m here to celebrate West Crawford.