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“I don’t know what things were like around here before me, but on my team, we respect women.”
“Fine. Call a girl—any girl—a name like whore or bitch again, and I’ll fuck you up.”
“Do you want to get back together with him?” she says. “No,” I say immediately. “Do you still love him?” “God no.” “Good. Because he’s a jerk. Hooking up with random cleat-chasing chicks.”
I grit my teeth. “Darryl.” “I knew you’d come back around,” he says. “You’re so pretty, baby. So glad you came tonight for me.” I push his hand away. “I didn’t.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see him. The guy from before. He has a frown on his face. He takes a step forward.
“I’m here for him, actually.” I don’t know what possesses me, but I shake myself free of Darryl and walk over, reach up to put my arms around this stranger’s neck . . . and kiss him.
Whoever it is, they smell really good. A bit like pine. I look up, and my heart does a little surprised flop in my chest. “Hey,” says James freakin’ Callahan. “Got an extra copy of that?”
That’s her. Little Miss Angel. Fucking kissed me better than anyone in my life and then left like we hadn’t just sparked like lightning. Not to mention she’s Darryl’s ex.
After she fled the party, Darryl got in my face about the kiss, but fortunately he believed me when I said I didn’t know who the hell she was. I still don’t, really, just that her name is Beckett, she’s drop-dead gorgeous, and she kisses like the world is burning down around her. Oh, and she’s off-limits.
Did she choose me to kiss because I’m her type as well? I’m not dumb, I know she kissed me to get back at Darryl. But she could’ve approached any guy at that party, and I’m the one she landed on.
The irrational part of my brain is chanting, “Lick him!” Pathetic.
“Don’t worry about it. I know a jealousy kiss when I see one.” “I didn’t realize you were his teammate.” He just shrugs. “Like I said, don’t worry about it. We talked; we’re cool.”
“Why do you know?” I say. He smiles slightly. “Because a girl like you deserves more than I can give, Bex.” I risk a step closer in his direction. Angle my chin up as I look at him. “How do you know what kind of girl I am? We barely know each other.” “I saw how you looked after we kissed. Trust me, you’re a relationship girl.”
Fuck, I’m sweaty as hell and want nothing more than to take a shower before heading home, but I’m tired of this shit. We’re teammates, which means we’re brothers, and if I have to tell him to his face that I’m not going to make a move on Bex, I guess that’s what I’ll do. Even if saying that will hurt.
Darryl digs at the grass with the toe of his cleat. “Heard you’ve been talking to her.” “Says who?” “Is it true?” “I don’t see how it’s your business.” “She’s my girl.” “Was your girl. And she can text whomever she wants, especially when it’s about a class she’s taking with someone.”
I hadn’t been lying to Bex when I said the only relationship in my life was football. Last time I tried to balance both, I nearly lost everything.
“Go play your game. And if you bother me again, especially here, I’ll call the cops.” He clenches his fists. I stare at him, terrified for the moment the swing connects with my face. My father hit my mother exactly once, shortly before he left for good, and she had a black eye for weeks. Not that it mattered much, because she was in bed mourning her marriage and the miscarriage triggered by heartbreak, but eleven-year-old me saw it every day when I crawled into bed beside her.
If you asked me while we were dating, I’d have said Darryl would never truly hurt me. But then again, I never thought my father would hurt my mother, and he destroyed her.
Two things are clear. One, I can’t believe I ever had feelings for that asshole. And two, I need a new plan, because obviously he’s not going away. I need James.
“Dude, I’m not going to sleep with my tutor.” “What? She’s hot.” “And my teammate’s ex.” Coop waves his hand. “Doesn’t count because they broke up before you got here.” “I’m sure he wouldn’t see it that way.” “Well, he’s an idiot anyway.”
“I’ll tutor you,” she says. “But only if you agree to pretend to date me.”
“Why?” “Because he won’t leave me alone.” His voice is sharp as he says, “Won’t leave you alone how?” “It’s fine—” “Like hell it’s fine.” The grip on his beer tightens. “Has he been harassing you?”
“He said you talked through things.” “And this would take a match to it.” I shake my head. “You’re right. I’m sorry, it was stupid. I’ll see you around.”
“Bex—” I shake my head, lips pressed tightly together. Like hell am I admitting aloud that I let Darryl hurt me. “Fuck it. I don’t like the guy anyway.” He drops his hand, shoving both into his pockets. “You really don’t mind tutoring me?”
“This is a deal, right? Quid pro quo. You take me on a few dates he’ll hear about, and I’ll make sure you pass this class.” He nods. “Okay. I can do that.” “You’re not worried about him trying to fight you?” He laughs. “Why would I be afraid? Let him try. I can take him, baby.”
“Baby?” “If we were really dating, we’d use pet names, right?” He leans in, brushing a lock of my hair behind my ear. “Do you prefer something else? Sweetheart? Honey? Sugar?” “Definitely not sugar.” “Princess?” “James . . .” He gives me a half-smile. “There we go.”
“Football, remember? But if you want people to buy it, you need to sell it, princess.” I nod. He has football. I have the diner and everything else. This is a mutually beneficial arrangement, like . . . like clownfish and sea
“You know,” he murmurs, “you can call me anything you want, but I do like the way you say James.”
“What was that for?” He shrugs. “You looked like you wanted to be kissed. We need to practice so it’s believable.” “That wasn’t kissing, that was . . .” He grins. “Never been kissed like that?” I hit his chest lightly. “Not outside a bar!”
“Let’s go inside.” “Now?” “Why not? I’ll introduce you as my date. We can play pool, talk for a while.” “He’s there.” “I know.” “What if he . . .” I trail off as I feel my cheeks get warm. “You know?” “Then I’ll handle it.” “Just like that?” “You’re supposed to be my girl, right?”
I would defend you every time someone so much as looked at you the wrong way.”
“I didn’t know this,” Laura says with a pout. “I can’t believe you didn’t mention you traded up to a good football boyfriend.”
If I had to pretend to date anyone, I’d choose her a hundred times over.
The bartender sets the drinks down at the exact moment I see Bex lift her sleeves, holding out her wrists to Laura. Fuck. She did flinch when I grabbed her wrist. I wasn’t sure if I’d been imagining it.
But I’m not in the mood to kick back and relax anymore, knowing Darryl hurt Bex.
“How badly?” Bex flicks her gaze up to look at me. “Not too bad. James—” “He fucking hurt you.” “And he won’t again once he knows we’re together. He’s a coward. He talks a big game, but—” I cut her off again; I can’t help it. “He won’t again because I’m about to break his fucking face.”
“If you start anything, you’ll be blamed. You could be suspended, and that’s the least of it.” I grit my teeth. “He hurt her.” “And this wouldn’t be helping her.” “She’s right,” Bex says. “You can’t risk it.”
I can’t believe how close I came to sending myself right over the edge again. The second I decided Bex was mine—even if it’s just for show—I was ready to throw it all away for her.
“You know, I think girlfriends usually get introduced to the team.” “You sure? He’s right back there.” She takes my hand and leads me through the crowd. “I know.”
“Because it’s been so long since Darryl and I broke up.” Darryl sets his beer down so hard the table rattles. “Baby, I know what game you’re playing, and you need to cut the shit now.” “No games. I’ve just moved on.” She gives him a grin. “Haven’t you?”
“I can’t fuck up the team for you.” “I already told him that if he disrespected a woman—you included—I’d stop throwing to him. They know that.”
“When?” she asks. “Before I even knew who you were. He was talking shit about you at that party.” Her eyes widen. “Before I kissed you?”
Maybe if this was real, I’d want her to be more possessive, but as it stands, I’m relieved.
“Are all your suggestions this boyish?” she whispers. “Hey, don’t let my sister hear you say that. She’s the mini golf queen,” I reply just as quietly, keeping my eyes on the front of the room. “What were you thinking?” “Antiquing?” “Hell no.” “Bookstore?” “Maybe.” She huffs out a breath. “Fine. The arcade isn’t a bad idea, there’s one right in town.” “Really?” I can’t keep the hopeful note out of my voice. “Are you free tonight?”
I hold her in place before she can slide away, crushing the poor stuffed animal between us. She named it as soon as I put it in her arms—Albert. Why, I have no idea, but it was almost worth losing to see her smile. Almost.
In the past couple of weeks, James has sent me Snaps of himself at practice, FaceTimed me while his brothers battled it out on Super Smash Bros, and texted me an unfair amount of cute animal videos.
“You have such messy handwriting.” He shrugs. “Eventually I’ll only need to be able to write one thing.” “Which is?” “My autograph.” I break into a smile as I shake my head. “Ego much?” “Not ego. Manifestation.”
“Wouldn’t have taken you for that type.” “There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he says. “Yet, of course. You’re my fake girlfriend, you’ll have to know everything eventually.”
“Like I would take my girlfriend to get bad pasta.” “Fake girlfriend.” He grins. “Isn’t that what I just said?”
“I’m hungry,” he says, looking up at me. “Want to get ready?” “What about the reservation?” “I can get us in early.” “Just like that? It’s so popular.” He shrugs. “My family knows the owner, so yeah. Just like that.”
This girl is going to kill me.
