Page 11 of The Wiener Across the Way

The two of us did a couple of steps to the choreography to “Borrow My Strength”. There had been like a million FlipFlops made for that segment of the song. We tumbled out of the elevator when it got to our floor and were in a fit of giggles.

That was the kind of thing I didn’t do enough of these days.

“You look stunning next to anyone, Amazonian or not. But yes, Declan Kingman does have a certain presence.” Penelope winked at me, her teasing light and playful.

I nodded and tried to keep my smile at a lower voltage. Declan Kingman was more than just tall and built, and did I mention his muscles? He had an aura about him, something intriguing beyond his rugged exterior, drool-worthy frame. But I couldn’t let myself get too caught up in that. This was meant to be showmance, nothing more. I didn’t need anything more right now.

“Anyway,” I said, steering the conversation back to safer waters, “let me know as soon as you hear from his team. It’s important we get the ball rolling on this if we’re going to pull it off convincingly.”

“Of course, Kels,” Penelope replied, already back at her ever-present tablet, typing away. “I’ll keep you updated. Maybe this fake dating will be more than you expect.”

As Penelope was about to leave, my phone buzzed with a text. I glanced at the screen, my heart skipping a beat. It was from the world’s worst ex, Jake. Our breakup had been way too public, and now he was being all sneaky and quiet, messaging me on the downlow and calling at weird times.

Penelope noticed the change in my expression. “Everything okay, Kels?”

I hesitated, the message burning in my mind. “It’s Jake. He’s... he’s asking to meet up. Says he wants to talk.”

That was never just it with him. I was always left wondering what the hell Jake actually wanted anyway. At least this time it wasn’t a drunk dial in the middle of the night.

Penelope frowned, glaring at my phone. “You don’t have to see him, or talk to him, or text him back you know. Especially not after how things ended.”

I sighed, a knot forming in my stomach. “I know. It’s just... complicated. I... thought he was the one, and then everything in the press...”

We hadn’t even dated that long, but he’d won me and my heart over with a lot of what I recognized now was just a bunch of love bombing. If any romance had ever been fake, it was ours. Although, not on my end.

Penelope placed a reassuring hand on my arm. “You don’t owe him anything.”

I nodded, feeling a mix of apprehension and resolve. I’d missed so many red flags with Jake, and I knew there were some great lyrics that would come out of that, but they just stayed out of reach in my mind. “You’re right about that.”

I tucked my phone away, trying to push off the unease from even thinking about how I’d felt so damn duped.

I forced a smile, the idea of being in a real fake relationship suddenly more appealing. “If the football hottie agrees, at least that’s one relationship I know is just for show.”

“Right. That will be, um, good. Okay, you’ve got one promo to film this afternoon, but I’ve rearranged some other stuff that the crew can take care of without you needing to be there, which means, I’ve got two full hours for you and your guitar and a pen and paper on the books.”

That was more than I could possibly ask for these days, and somehow the thought of it was a rock in my stomach. One covered in acid. I absolutely needed the quiet time to work on the songs for the next album. There was no pushing the date to get into the studio a second time. Not if I was going to work with the producer the label had pulled strings to get.

“That’s great. Thanks.”

Wiener the Pooh waited for me in the bedroom, curled up next to the pillows on the big plush bed. “I’m hitting the shower, poo poo. Then we can have a snack and go for a little walk, huh?”

She stretched and yawned and went right back to sleep. I wasn’t jealous of my dog. Not even a little. Not even a lot.

I popped into the fancy hot rain glass box and stayed in for longer than I should, hoping for that mythical shower inspiration. I even tried to hum a few lines, but the acoustics in here were funky. What I wouldn’t give for the bathroom at my parents’ house right now.

After I toweled off and put on my favorite day jammies, I stared at my guitar. If I was going to get any song writing done, I guess I’d have to actually pick it up. Strumming a few chords didn’t do much except wake up Pooh, who trotted over to the corner of the bed closest to me and wagged her tail. She loved when I sang to her.

I hoped for a spark, a hint of a melody to break through the fog. But each note echoed back empty, bouncing off the walls ofmy suite, mocking my efforts. The lyrics refused to come, each scribbled word a dead end. Even Pooh curled back up and fell asleep. I was that unentertaining.

I set the guitar aside. A distraction, that’s what I needed. Instead of typing in a meditation or pulling up my schedule, which used to motivate me but now just gave me anxiety, I maybe, perhaps, kind of typed in Declan Kingman, to the Google search bar. The first things to pop up were football game videos. Some were from news sites, but I knew the better highlights would be fan made.

I clicked on one by a user called MustangCowgirl and watched, entranced. There was Declan, filling up the screen, commanding, powerful. He tackled the crap out of some guy, over and over. At first, I thought it was the same clip repeated, but I looked at the description, and apparently, he’d done something called sacking the quarterback some record number of times. One commenter called KingmanPrincess said he’d turned the guy into oatmeal.

I clicked on another montage and watched him basically catch a guy running with the ball and smash him into the ground in a dance of raw power. I found myself leaning in, eyes tracing his movements. Even when he was off the field, helmet off, waiting for his turn to play again, the focus in his eyes, that unyielding determination, it was mesmerizing.

Watching him pummel big dudes into the ground was so fricking sexy.

A laugh escaped me, light and unexpected. I was supposed to be working on lyrics, and here I was, getting lost in football highlights. I knew next to nothing about sports, but even I could tell he was really good. And I was... really turned on.

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