Fitz sighs. “You fell into my lap at the right time. Every interview I’ve done, every article written, it ties me to him. Nick wants me to change the narrative. Starting Saturday at the gala.” He points to the credit card.

“Well.” I sigh. “I guess the second act begins then.”

“Of our story?”

“Of America’s greatest love story,” I remind him.

A slow, lazy smile blooms across his face before he asks, “What’s the deal with Secret Service? They escorted us but⁠—"

I lift my head to the ceiling and groan. “They come everywhere with me. But I don’t have to ride with them. Not yet at least.”

“You can take my car in bay eight. Keys are by the door. I’d rather you not ride with those goons unless I’m with you.” The smile disappears, but I try not to give it much thought.

“You’d let me drive your car?”

“Sure. You break it, you buy it.” Fitz crowds closer. “I’m serious about the money thing though. I don’t want you to have to worry about anything with me. After we get married, I’ll have one issued for you with our name.”

Our name. Why do those two words make my stomach flutter?

I eye the American Express. “Maybe we should lay down a few rules here.”

“Rules?”

“I mean, I’ll do whatever you need me to do in the football world. The gala or⁠—”

“There’s not much else right now. You can drop in on a practice later on. But I’ll need you at games during the season, a handful of events. You said a year. That timeline works for me.”

I nod. “Deal.”

Fitz hums but then turns silent.

“What else?”

“I don’t really want you around your family without me. Not when I can help it.”

There’s a lick of protectiveness to his words I’m not sure I’ve ever heard in my entire life.

“Maybe I should go with you,” Fitz suggests. “At least until camp.”

I shake my head. “I’ll be fine on my own. It’s all boring campaign stuff anyway.”

“You’ll be there though, right?”

“Yes,” I sing, confused.

“Then it’ll hardly be boring.”

God, there’s that lone dimple again.

I move on. “Next rule. I’ll be reorganizing the kitchen.”

“That’s a rule?”

“It’s not for negotiation. I like things a certain way.”

“By all means, Parker. Shake up my life for the better.” He flattens his lips and shifts them side to side. “What do you want to do about other people?” Fitz spits out quickly.

Other people? I think to myself. It takes me a second.

“Use discretion, I guess.”

Fitz’s eyebrows pop. “Discretion?”