Page 27 of Tight Spot

Weights slammed down around me. An echoing of grunts and groans and laughter and typical bullshitting from my team. Davis was spotting Mason next to me as he worked on his bench press, and I shoved up to my ass from my finished set and grabbed my towel.

Pre-season workouts, all individually prepared and designed by our trainers and after we were done, meals were made by the team’s chef specifically created for our unique macro needs. After, there’d be speed workouts. Conditioning and sprints to increase our speed off the line of the scrimmage and getting down the field.

My day was organized for me, down to the second as soon as I stepped foot into our training facility a couple miles from our game field.

Typically, I didn’t mind. Helped me stay focused.

Today, I couldn’t focus on shit. Four days ago, I walked Hailey to her car after dinner, waited until she pulled out of the parking lot and even though it was almost ten o’clock on a Saturday night, phoned Meredith.

“What the hell is this bullshit?”

She answered immediately, and I could practically hear the laugh in her voice when she replied, “You said you wanted short-term.”

“I also said I wasn’t paying for sex. And don’t you think this is a conflict of interest?”

She laughed again. Actually had the gall to laugh at me. “I think I’m considering everyone’s interests, and besides, you aren’t paying anything. No way would Hailey take you up on that with what she wants.”

That damn woman. How infuriating. How in the hell were they even friends? She also wasn’t wrong. As soon as I’d brought up the money, Hailey shut me down. Refused to hear anything I said. “I can still back out of this. Ruin your winning percentage you so proudly boast about.”

“You could.”

But I wouldn’t, was what she left unsaid.

“Anything else, Mr. Butler?”

“Yeah.” Damn her and Hailey for being so utterly and completely tempting. “Call me Dawson since I’m soon going to be fake dating your best friend.”

I hung up to the sound of her laughing. Infuriating woman.

That was Saturday night.

Now it was Thursday. Hailey and I hadn’t spoken.

How in the hell did I set up our next date? “Hey, wanna get started on that sex stuff?”

Did we become friends? Let that happen naturally? Did we just go out in public for a few photo ops or whatever and then go back to one of our homes so I could give her a How To Give A Blow Job 101 lesson?

How in the hell was I supposed to lead all of this?

Cole stepped into my line of sight, scrubbing his hair with a towel and draping it over his shoulders. Hands on his hips, chest heaving from his own workout, he peered at me. “You okay? Haven’t moved in five minutes.”

I hadn’t even realized I was still in the gym. “Yeah.” I shoved to my feet.

Cole gives a quick glance around the room and leans in. “How’s that plan of yours going?”

“Already a mess.”

“You had the meeting with the matchmaker, right?”

“Yup, and I’m not saying any more.”

No guy on the team was going to find out what was going on. So a few knew I had to fake date someone. Fine. But I certainly wasn’t going over the terms of the agreement with them.

Cole frowned and whipped his towel off his shoulders before setting his hands on his hips. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t like talking about my own shit.”

“But you made me talk about mine.”

---