Chapter 6
Jay was the first to walk into the club, his boots thudding against the polished floor, the usual energy of the night slipping past him. He was supposed to be enjoying it, supposed to be letting go, but something in him felt… off. His teammates had coaxed him out here, after all—Severide, Kevin, Casey, even Mouse, who seemed to think Jay's mood could be fixed with enough whiskey and loud music. The kind of night that was supposed to push everything else to the back of his mind. The kind of night where he was supposed to be the life of the party.
But it didn't work that way anymore.
The girls noticed him almost immediately. It wasn't hard. Jay had that look—dark hair, chiseled jaw, broad shoulders—and his presence in any room seemed to demand attention. Women didn't usually need to do anything but smile at him, and he'd be drawn in. Easy. Simple. But tonight, it wasn't that simple.
One of the women who had been eyeing him all night finally slid up to him, her movements smooth and practiced. She leaned in a little too close, her perfume clinging to the air around him. "You look like you need some company," she said, her voice low and inviting.
Jay glanced at her, and for a moment, his mind flickered to Erin. It was so damn quick, so subtle, but there it was. The way Erin had looked at him that night, that coffee. It wasn't a lingering thought, just a fleeting impression, but it was enough to make him pull back. He didn't want to feel this way, didn't want to think about her, not when he was supposed to be here, living his life, pretending to be the guy who didn't care.
The girl leaned closer, her hand brushing his arm.
He stepped back slightly, forcing a smile, trying to be charming. "Not tonight," he said, his tone polite but distant. "I'm good, thanks."
The smile faltered on the girl's face for a second, but she didn't push. She gave a half-hearted shrug and moved on, like it was just another night. But for Jay, it wasn't that simple. There was a part of him that felt… strange. Uncomfortable. It wasn't that he wasn't used to the attention—he'd always gotten it. What bothered him was how it felt different tonight. Something about it just didn't sit right.
He ran a hand through his hair, turning toward the bar where his teammates were gathered. They were already deep in conversation, their laughter loud and easy, the tension of the week slipping off their shoulders in the haze of alcohol and flashing lights. Casey clapped him on the back as he approached. "There he is. Thought you were gonna bail on us, man. You good?"
Jay forced another smile, sliding onto the stool next to him. "Yeah, I'm good."
Kevin nudged him with his elbow. "You sure? You've been quiet tonight. I think you need a drink to loosen up."
"I'm fine," Jay muttered, his gaze scanning the crowd again. Another girl caught his eye, this one wearing a tight red dress, her eyes locked on his with a calculated intensity. She was pretty enough—he could tell she had her sights set on him—but there was nothing about her that made him want to reach out.
That was the thing, wasn't it? No matter how much he tried to convince himself that tonight was just like any other, he couldn't ignore the nagging feeling in his chest. The girls, the loud music, the flashing lights—they all felt like a distraction, something to keep him from thinking about the one thing that kept worming its way back into his thoughts.
Erin.
Jay wasn't supposed to be this guy. He wasn't supposed to be the guy who got hung up on a single coffee, who let one night mess with his head. But here he was. And the worst part was, he didn't know how to turn it off.
Severide slapped him on the back, grinning. "Come on, man. It's a party. Drink up. You'll feel better."
Jay didn't respond right away. His mind was clouded, the thoughts racing in circles. He reached for a drink, a whiskey neat, and downed it in one go, the burn of the liquor offering a brief distraction from the mess in his mind. He glanced over at Mouse, who was sitting with a couple of guys, not paying attention to him for the moment.
"Another round," he called to the bartender, his voice slightly louder than it needed to be.
It was easier this way. The more he drank, the more the tension in his chest loosened, even if only for a moment. It felt like he was slipping back into the role he'd always played—the one where nothing mattered, where everything was just a game. But the more he tried to embrace it, the more it felt like a mask. He was pretending to be the guy who didn't care, but the truth was, he didn't know how to shake this feeling that wasn't leaving him alone.
The woman in the red dress was back, standing a little too close, her hand brushing his again. This time, he didn't pull away immediately. He let her lean in, let her touch him, and for a second, he thought maybe it would work. Maybe he could lose himself in her, in the simplicity of just one night. But,when after a few other drinks her lips met his, it felt wrong. Like there was something missing. Something important.
Jay pulled back, his breath coming a little too quick. "Sorry," he muttered, standing abruptly, nearly knocking over his drink. He didn't know why he'd even let it go this far.
"Jay, what's your deal?" Mouse called out from across the room, a bemused look on his face.
Jay ignored him, his heart pounding. The confusion, the frustration—it was all building, crashing in on him. He needed to get out of here. He needed to leave before he made a bigger mess of everything.
Jay moved through the crowd like a ghost, his footsteps louder in his mind than they were in the chaos around him. The club, the flashing lights, the music—it all blurred into background noise as he tried to shake the unease gnawing at him. There was an urgency in his chest, a need to escape the grip of everything that wasn't Erin. The longer he stayed, the more suffocating it became.
He pushed through the throng of people and into the back hallway that led to the quieter side of the club. His hand gripped the cold metal railing as he leaned against it, his breathing uneven. What the hell was wrong with him?
He'd been doing this for years—this whole party scene, being the guy everyone called when they wanted to let loose. But tonight? It felt foreign, like he didn't belong in his own skin. His mind kept flashing back to Erin, to her laugh, to the way her eyes had met his that morning. She hadn't been like the others. She hadn't just wanted his attention for the night; she'd wanted something more, something real. That was what scared him. The possibility of feeling something. That was never supposed to happen.
Jay ran a hand through his hair, frustrated with himself. He had everything he needed to be happy—fame, money, people who liked him. What more could he want? What was so different about Erin?
"Jay?"
The voice startled him, and he turned to see Mouse, looking slightly concerned as he leaned against the doorframe.
"You good, man?" Mouse asked, his eyes narrowed as he took in Jay's flushed face and restless movements.
"Yeah," Jay lied, pushing off the railing with a forced smile. "I'm fine."
But Mouse wasn't convinced. "You sure? You've barely said two words since we got here. You're not acting like yourself."
Jay's gaze flickered to the door behind Mouse, to the noise and distractions he was trying so desperately to avoid. He didn't want to think about this anymore. He didn't want to talk about it.
"I'm fine," he repeated, his voice a little sharper than he intended.
Mouse raised an eyebrow but didn't push any further. Instead, he shrugged and offered a weak smile. "Alright, man. But you should know… I've never seen you turn down a drink or a girl this many times in one night. Something's up."
Jay's jaw clenched at Mouse's words, the accusation, even though it wasn't one. He knew what his friend was saying, and he hated that it was true.
"I'm just… not in the mood," Jay muttered, running a hand over his face. His own words felt hollow. He wasn't just "not in the mood"—he was distracted. And the worst part was, he didn't know how to stop thinking about her.
There was something about Erin that got under his skin in a way he wasn't used to. It wasn't supposed to matter. One coffee, one dinner—just a couple of moments shared between two people who were supposed to be nothing to each other. So why couldn't he shake it?
"I'll be back in a second," Jay said, his voice tight. "Just need some air."
Mouse nodded, seemingly satisfied with the excuse, though he still didn't look convinced.
Jay stepped outside, the cool night air hitting him like a slap to the face. He stood there for a moment, hands shoved in his pockets, his breath visible in the chill. Everything felt too loud. Too overwhelming. He wanted to go home. He wanted to pretend like none of this had ever happened. But that wasn't possible anymore, was it?
His phone buzzed in his pocket, breaking the silence, and he pulled it out without thinking.
The screen lit up, showing a notification: "Jay Halstead partying hard in Chicago! #NFLstar #LivingTheLife"
He stared at it for a long time. There was a picture of him, arms thrown around a couple of girls, laughing, looking like the guy everyone expected him to be. He'd been in a haze, a blur of drinks and music, not realizing it was all being documented. And the worst part? He'd let it happen. He didn't care, didn't think about the consequences—until now.
His thumb hovered over the screen, ready to scroll past it, but he couldn't. He clicked on the picture, scrolling through the comments. "This guy is a mess." "Just another player living for the weekend."
He shoved the phone back in his pocket, his jaw tightening. He couldn't let this get to him. He couldn't. But the feeling—this strange emptiness in his gut—wasn't going away.
Especially cause he knew that this photos would soon be all over internet, and he wasn't ready to hear the complain of his manager about him having to try being a better role model.
And damn,Erin one hundred percent will see all the photos and she will understand the kind of person he is.
So, as he goes inside to grab another drink, he thinks to his self that that coffee last friday afternoon was probably gonna be the last time he ever saw Erin Lindsay.
That thought alone, made him want to play rewind to the whole night and instead spending the eveni binge watching Netflix with a slice of pizza.
Erin could feel the warmth of the Sunday sun filtering through the kitchen window as she sat at the table, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of her coffee mug. The sound of laughter and clinking dishes came from the living room, where her family had gathered for their usual Sunday lunch at Voight's. But today, even the familiarity of Hank's gruff voice, Justin's teasing, and little Danny's high-pitched giggles couldn't pull her into the moment.
Her mind kept slipping back to the morning, to that moment when she'd stepped out of the house and into the chaos of the world—her phone buzzing constantly, the same notifications lighting up one by one,the trends of every social blowing up her notifications.
It was about Jay.
The first thing she'd seen was the image: Jay, surrounded by a group of girls, laughing, living it up at some club. It was everything Erin had imagined it would be—the kind of life he led, the kind of attention he attracted.
It was all there, in full color.
She'd known he was living it up—hell, he had every right to. He was the star quarterback of the Chicago Bears. He could do whatever the hell he wanted. But seeing it plastered all over her phone screen, seeing him in the arms of other women, it was different. It hurt, in a way she hadn't anticipated.
She set the phone down, pushing it to the side of the table as though it were a weight too heavy to bear. The conversation around her continued, but her thoughts were elsewhere. The click of the silverware, the shuffle of chairs, it all felt distant. Kim caught her eye across the table, her brow furrowing slightly in concern.
"You okay?" Kim asked quietly, keeping her voice low, mindful of the others.
Erin smiled faintly, brushing it off. "Yeah, just… tired."
Kim didn't buy it. Not for a second.
"You saw it, didn't you?" she asked, her tone soft but knowing.
Erin exhaled, leaning back in her chair, her arms folded across her chest. "I'm not mad, Kim. Really. He's Jay Halstead. He's supposed to be out there, doing this. I'm not going to get all upset about it. It's not like we're anything."
Kim studied her for a long moment, her gaze flickering between Erin and the phone, still sitting abandoned on the table. "You sure? Because I don't think you're just 'tired.' It's okay if you're a little… disappointed."
Erin's lips tightened. She shrugged, trying to dismiss the feeling that had taken root in her chest. The tightness, the ache that only seemed to grow every time she thought about him. She tried to ignore it, tried to push it down beneath layers of indifference. "It's just… it's just that," she muttered. "A coffee, a dinner. We're not anything. So… I don't know why I care so much. I don't know why it's bothering me."
Kim sat back, her eyes softening. She understood more than Erin was willing to admit. Kim had been the one who saw the flicker of something in Erin's eyes that afternoon when they'd met up with Jay. She had seen the way Erin had looked at him—like maybe there was more. Like maybe this was something Erin wasn't ready for but secretly wished could be something else.
"It's okay to care, Erin. Even if it's just a little. But you can't get mad at him for being himself," Kim said gently, a trace of amusement in her voice. "If anything, I think it's more about you than it is about him."
Erin looked at her, confusion crossing her face. "What do you mean?"
Kim leaned in, lowering her voice even further. "I mean… you know this guy isn't the kind to settle down, right? This is Jay Halstead we're talking about. He's never been about the long-term, Erin. You said it yourself,like everyone else does."
Erin opened her mouth to respond, but the words caught in her throat. It was true. She had said it. She had told herself not to expect anything, not to read too much into their brief meeting. It had been nothing more than a chance encounter, one dinner, a coffee. It had been nothing. But why did it feel like more?
She bit her lip, her gaze falling to the table. The sound of laughter from the living room seemed distant now, like she was hearing it from another world.
Kim's voice interrupted her thoughts again, pulling her back. "Look, don't beat yourself up for having feelings. It's been a while since you did this.You're allowed to be human."
Erin chuckled dryly, the sound bitter. "Being human sucks sometimes."
Kim reached across the table, giving her hand a comforting squeeze. "Yeah, it does. But that's what makes it all real, right?"
Erin nodded slowly, her chest tightening once more as the weight of the situation settled over her. She didn't have the answers. She didn't even know what she wanted from Jay or from herself. All she knew was that, in that moment, all she could do was pretend she didn't care.
That day,after trying to brush off that imagines as much as she could, sleep came harder than usual.
She couldn't shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, there was more to Jay Halstead than the guy who was always in the spotlight, partying away the days. She just wasn't sure if he'd ever see that in himself at all.
And maybe that was what it was all about.
Erin's phone buzzed loudly beside her on the nightstand, pulling her from her slumber. She groaned and squinted at the time—6:45 AM. It was way too early for any conversation that wasn't about a cup of coffee.
She grabbed the phone, seeing it was Trudy. Of course.
With a resigned sigh, Erin answered, pulling the covers over her head, desperate to ignore the day. "Trudy, it's 6:45. The world is still asleep. What could you possibly want this early?"
"Oh, don't act like you weren't already awake and waiting for me to call." Trudy's voice was annoyingly chipper for the ungodly hour. "Anyway, I've got fantastic news for you."
Erin could already feel the panic rising. "I don't know, Trudy, I'm not sure I'm in the mood for whatever 'great news' you have in mind."
"Oh, trust me, you will be. So, you know Walter Westbrook, the president of the Bears, right? The guy you met at the gala?"
Erin blinked, still trying to wake up fully. "Yeah, I remember him. Why?"
"Well, I just got off the phone with him. He loved your speech at the gala, thought you were an absolute hit, and guess what? He wants you to be a presenter at their All-Star Party this Friday."
Erin's heart skipped a beat. "Wait—what? Presenting? Trudy, you've got to be joking. I can't present at an event like that. I'm not… I don't do that kind of thing."
"Oh, yes, you do now," Trudy said breezily. "They want you on stage, giving one of the awards. You'll be up there in front of everyone looking fabulous, and trust me, this will be huge for you. It'll be great for your career."
Erin shot up in bed, her mind racing. "But… I'm not a presenter. I'm a writer! I can barely get through a book signing without wanting to run for the door."
"You've spoken in front of crowds before," Trudy said dismissively, as though that should calm Erin's nerves. "And besides, you're Erin Lindsay. You'll look gorgeous in a black-tie dress, and people will eat it up. The Bears are hosting this whole thing, and it's all about the team's stars and the charity work. You'll be the perfect addition."
Erin's stomach churned. "Trudy, I can't. I don't know the first thing about public speaking at something like this. It's a black-tie event, right? I'll be the awkward writer surrounded by NFL stars in tuxedos. It's like setting myself up for failure."
"Oh, come on," Trudy said, practically ignoring her concerns. "You love an excuse to dress up, and this is your chance to make people take you seriously. Besides, Walter's really pushing for you. He specifically asked for you to do it. You're going to nail it."
Erin groaned, rubbing her forehead. "So, what, I just go, put on some fancy dress, get up on stage, and present an award to a bunch of athletes I don't even know?"
"Exactly," Trudy replied as if Erin's concerns were insignificant. "And you're going to look fabulous doing it. No one's going to care how nervous you are. You've got star power, Erin. This is your moment."
"But I—" Erin started to protest, but Trudy cut her off.
"I've already said yes for you," Trudy said matter-of-factly. "It's all set. So you don't even have a choice now. Just get ready to look amazing. The event's on Friday, so you've got time to prepare. I'll help with the dress. It's going to be perfect."
Erin blinked, her mind spinning. "You said yes for me? Without asking me?"
"Yep. You're going. Don't worry, Erin. You've got this," Trudy said, her voice full of confidence.
Erin's brain felt like it was short-circuiting. "I can't believe this. I don't even know what I'm supposed to say up there. I'll freeze. What if I make a fool of myself?"
"You won't," Trudy reassured her, but Erin could hear the hint of a laugh in her tone. "Besides, you're Erin Lindsay. You're not gonna just make a fool of yourself. You'll shine. And don't even think about backing out. It's already happening."
Erin let out a long, frustrated sigh. "Great. So, now I'm stuck presenting at an All-Star Party that I don't even want to be at. Perfect."
Trudy, clearly in her element, continued with a chipper tone. "Exactly! You'll look fabulous, and people will love it. And you know what? If you're lucky, you might get to meet a few other NFL players. Could be fun, huh?"
Erin muttered something unintelligible under her breath. "Fun. Yeah. Sure. Absolutely."
"Well, I'll see you there," Trudy said, clearly not picking up on Erin's sarcasm. "You'll be amazing. Just remember: black tie. Don't even think about showing up in jeans."
Erin rolled her eyes. "Of course not. I'll wear a ball gown and a tiara while I'm at it."
"Oh, I love the sound of that," Trudy replied with a laugh. "Okay, I'll let you go back to your beauty sleep. But get ready for Friday. It's going to be huge."
The line went dead, and Erin flopped back onto her bed, staring at the ceiling. Her mind was a whirlwind of panic. She couldn't believe she was going to this event, and even worse, she couldn't shake the nagging thought in the back of her mind: What if Jay is there?
What if Jay Halstead, the man who had haunted her thoughts for days, was going to be at the same event? What if he thought she was some kind of psychopath showing up just because she'd heard he was going to be there?
She groaned. It wasn't like she had a choice now. It was happening, whether she liked it or not. But the concrete high possibility of seeing Jay again?
That was going to be a whole other thing.
Jay had barely finished his morning workout when his phone rang, and the name on the screen made him groan. Antonio.
"Yo, what's up, Toni?" Jay answered, wiping sweat from his forehead as he grabbed a towel.
The voice on the other end was sharp, and Jay could practically hear Antonio pacing. "Don't 'yo' me, Jay. What the hell is this I'm seeing online?"
Jay paused, already knowing what was coming. "What are you talking about?"
"The photos," Antonio snapped. "The ones of you partying over the weekend. You know, the ones where you're stumbling out of some club looking like you've had one too many drinks? You're supposed to be a role model, man. This is the kind of stuff we don't need right now. Not when we're trying to keep the Bears' image clean."
Jay sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Ant, I was just unwinding. It was nothing."
"That's the problem, Jay. The whole world is seeing it now. You're one of the most recognizable players in the NFL, and you're out there partying like you're some frat boy on spring break. This is the kind of thing the media lives for. You know better than this."
"I wasn't the only one out there. You know how the guys are—" Jay started, but Antonio cut him off.
"I don't care about the other guys, Jay. You're the one who's in the spotlight. You've been on edge for weeks now, and this? This is just feeding the fire. You think this helps your image? Helps my image? It doesn't." Antonio's voice had dropped to a near growl.
Jay could hear the frustration in his manager's voice, and it wasn't helping the tight knot in his chest. "Alright, alright, I get it. It's a mess. I'll figure it out."
"No," Antonio said firmly. "You're going to meet me for breakfast. Now. We need to talk about damage control and what you're gonna do to fix this. Don't make me come down there."
Jay rolled his eyes, but there was no denying the urgency in Antonio's tone. "Fine. Breakfast. Where?"
"Just get to the diner on Lincoln. I'll be there in twenty. Don't make me wait."
Jay could hear Antonio hanging up, and he cursed under his breath, grabbing his jacket.
When Jay walked into the diner, he saw Antonio already sitting in his usual spot at the booth, staring at his phone. A black coffee sat in front of him, still steaming. Jay slid into the seat across from him with a sigh, trying not to feel the weight of the conversation that was about to unfold.
"Sorry I'm late," Jay mumbled, running a hand through his damp hair.
Antonio didn't even look up from his phone. He simply waved at the coffee. "I got your usual."
Jay shot him a brief, guilty glance. "Actually, can you change it up? I'll take an almond milk coffee instead."
Antonio raised an eyebrow, finally glancing up. "Almond milk coffee? Since when did you turn into a hipster?"
Jay shrugged, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "Just needed a change."
Antonio's face twitched in amusement, but he didn't say anything more about it. "Alright, whatever. You do you. But we've got a serious problem here, and it's not your coffee preference."
Jay leaned back in the booth, trying to look casual. "What's up? Something about the party?"
Antonio's gaze sharpened as he set his phone down. "It's more than just the party, Jay. It's the whole damn week. You've got some big expectations to meet."
Jay raised an eyebrow. "I thought this was just another black-tie thing. What's the big deal?"
"The big deal?" Antonio's voice dropped low, his tone serious. "This is the All-Star Party. It's one of the biggest events of the year for the league. Sponsors, media, big-name partners… This isn't just a regular gala. This is the event. And it's not just about you, it's about the team's image."
Jay frowned, rubbing the back of his neck. "Alright, I get it. So, what? You need me to be on my best behavior?"
"Exactly." Antonio's voice softened just a little, but the seriousness didn't leave his eyes. "Look, I know you've got a reputation for… letting loose, but this week, you need to keep it together. No more headlines about you at some random party, no more stupid decisions."
Jay sighed, his gaze flickering toward the door, his thoughts briefly drifting. "I'm not some kid, Tony. I know how to handle myself."
Antonio's expression hardened again. "You better. You've got too much riding on this. You need to show the league that you're not just a player with a temper and a party habit. You need to be the guy they think they're getting when they signed you. The professional."
Jay exhaled slowly, trying to suppress the frustration building in his chest. "I get it, alright? I'll play nice. I'll smile for the cameras and do all the right things."
Antonio leaned in, his voice firm. "No. Not just that. I need you to stay cool. You cannot lose your temper at the party. Don't even think about letting anything get to you."
Jay leaned back in the booth, giving Antonio a raised eyebrow. "You think I'm gonna snap at the All-Star Party? I'm not some hothead, Tony."
"Maybe not," Antonio said, though the edge of concern in his voice was clear. "But we've seen what happens when you're in the wrong mood at the wrong time. People are watching. Everyone's watching. And you need to be the guy who handles pressure without breaking a sweat."
Jay nodded slowly, his fingers tapping against the edge of his coffee cup. "Alright, alright. I'll keep it together. I'll be the professional you want me to be."
Antonio let out a small breath, clearly relieved. "Good. I know this whole thing feels like a pain in the ass, but it's important. So, no screw-ups. Got it?"
Jay raised his hands in mock surrender. "Got it. Perfect behavior. No partying. No drama. Just… me being a model citizen."
Antonio gave him a stern look. "You better. And remember, Jay, if you mess this up, it's on you. No more excuses."
Jay nodded again, the weight of the conversation settling in. As much as he hated it, Antonio was right. This wasn't just about him anymore—it was about the whole team, the reputation, the business. He had to act like the man they expected him to be.
As he sipped his almond milk coffee, Jay's mind wandered back to the party he'd been avoiding. He hated these events, but there was no getting out of it now.
He just hoped nothing would throw him off course.