'It was totally a rush', Tiffany thought as they sprinted out of the shop and up the side street. It was even more of a rush when she heard someone yelling, “They’re going that way!”

Being a professionally trained athlete, Sam easily outpaced her and had to reach back for her hand. “C’mon, let’s go to the park.”

She took his hand without thinking, and they shot into the park, sprinting until they reached an empty pavilion with huge trees.

Sam hardly seemed out of breath while she struggled to control her breathing.

Sam tugged her against the side of the Pavilion. “Put your back against it.”

It didn’t bug her that he was still holding her hand, but it surprised her that she had butterflies in her stomach. Even more surprising was that Sam Dumont was nothing like what she’d thought he would be based on how he’d been portrayed in the media.

He was scanning the park. “I think we got away.” Then he yanked back. “Wait, someone is running through the park like a blood hound,” he whispered.

Both of them kept flush against the building. It was kind of funny to Tiffany that she was hiding out with a pro football player. Katie marrying Roman had taught her a little bit about having the media around, and she listened to Katie complain about it all the time.

Admittedly, Tiffany had always thought that it wasn’t as bad as Katie made it out to be, but she’d never said anything. She’d quit being jealous of Katie the minute they’d become best friends again. She’d told herself that her friendship with Katie was too important to ever let petty things get in the way again.

Now, as she found herself hiding with Sam, she realized she didn’t want the media to find them. She just wanted to have more time with him. Realizing the direction of her thoughts, she quickly pulled her hand away.

Sam was peering over the side of the building again, but he turned back to her immediately. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to…” He trailed off.

Tiffany didn’t understand how looking into his chocolate colored eyes made her go all gooey inside. She smiled nervously to show him it was okay. “Is there anyone still after us?”

He peeked out for a second and then came back. “Let’s sit for a bit to give them a little more time to disperse.”

“Okay.” She sat, and he sat down next to her.

He picked up a small stick and started drawing in the mud next to them. “That was fun.”

Picking up her own stick, she began to draw a flower. “I love surfing.”

He stopped and turned to her. “You would love Miami.”

She kept drawing. “Maybe, I’ve never been.”

“You’ve never been?”

She grunted at his complete confusion that she’d never been to Miami. “No, some of us don’t have millions of dollars to travel all over.”

Pausing, he let out a breath. “I know. Sorry. I just…I grew up there, and I forget the beach isn’t as accessible to everyone like it was to me.” He went back to drawing. “But I didn’t grow up with millions, just so you know.”

Putting the final touches on a sunflower, she leaned back, liking her work. She glanced over at the football he’d been drawing. “Figures.” She reached up and took his hat off.

“Hey, I need that for the show tonight.” He reached to get it back, and she leaned away.

He stopped reaching and leaned back. “So are you going to tell me about Brett?”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she shrugged. “What’s there to say? I’m…”

“What?” He gently bumped against her to prod her to speak.

She sighed. “I believe in traditional stuff.”

“Oh, so you wouldn’t sleep with him,” he stated.

“I’m not talking about it.” She used the same tone she’d used on Jared from earlier.

“Fine.”

“Fine,” she replied.

He turned and began another football.

Irritation coursed through her. “Don’t act like I should be ashamed of it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“No.” She pointed at him. “You acted like I’m a weirdo because I believe people should wait until they’re married.”

He got very still. “I may not be very religious, but I always believed in being with one person, okay?”

Giving him a look of disbelief, she shook her head.

“What can I say? I just haven’t lived that way.”

She processed this for a few minutes.

“When I apologized to Roman the other day, I meant it. It was my fault. I made my own choices, but part of the reason I was such a mess after everything was because…I thought I loved her. I thought…”

“What?” She wanted to know what he was going to say.

He blinked furiously, and she saw the moisture in his eyes. “I know it sounds stupid but I really thought I would marry her and somehow…” He laughed softly. “I thought that would redeem the both of us.” He shook his head and looked away, blowing out a breath. “I know. It’s stupid.”

Abruptly, she did something she never would have expected out of herself. She put her hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Sam.”

He turned back to her. “Don’t.” He shrugged away from her touch. “I don’t deserve your sympathy. It was my fault. I did it. I messed up.”

She sighed.

They both fell into silence for a bit, focusing on their drawings.

Sam got up, looking side to side. “I think we’re safe. We’re going to have to get going. We go on in an hour.”

She stood. “I really appreciate you doing this.”

He shrugged, and they started moving toward the street.

Tiffany noticed a large van next to the Pavilion with a bunch of band members holding their instruments. “Hmm, it looks like we’ll have some competition tonight.”

Sam turned back. “Ah, don’t worry about it. When people hear your voice from the doors of MacCools, they will be lured in as if they were hearing the sirens from The Odyssey.”

Confused, she frowned. “Are you talking about that book that was required in high school English?”

He laughed. “Yep.”

“Wow,” she replied, genuinely impressed.

“Hey, not all jocks are dumb jocks.”

“I didn’t say that,” she said, laughing.

“Yeah, but you were thinking it.”

As they came closer to MacCools, they saw a line already forming outside the pub.

“Ohmygosh,” Tiffany said.

Sam stopped walking, tugging her back with him to the safety of a large tree across the street. “I guess word has already gotten out about you.” Sam grinned down at her.

Even more confused because it’s not like she had ever sung by herself, she tugged out her phone and found Jared’s number. “I don’t think this has anything to do with me.”

“Hello,” Jared answered.

“Why is there a crowd already?” she demanded.

He didn’t speak for a second. “I don’t know.”

But his voice gave him away.

“You told people Sam is here, didn’t you?” When she said it, she instantly knew it was true.

“No,” he said, but his slow response gave him away.

“Ugh.” She stomped her foot.

“What?” Sam asked. “Did he leak it?”

She nodded and turned away. “Jared, I’m not doing it,” she said.

“What?” he asked.

“What?” Sam asked at the same time.

She spoke into the phone. “I wanted to do this on my own.”

“I don’t care what you wanted, Tiffany. I stuck my neck out for you to have this gig, and you’re not skipping out,” he insisted.

“I’m not riding someone’s coattails again. I’ve been doing that for way too long.”

Jared didn’t speak for a second. Then he said, “You better be here in half an hour, or I’m never giving you a shot again.”

10

As she got off the phone, Sam let out a breath. “Well, I don’t mind being a media plug for you,” he offered. And he didn’t. There were times when people were sneaky about using him and he resented it, but not for her.