Page 17 of Faking Ties

“Holy shit. I’m so sorry.”

She lifts her shoulder. “It’s in the past, but yeah, I don’t like football players.”

“Well, we’re about to change that,” I say. “Do you know anything about the game itself?”

“Of course.” She looks anywhere but at me. “I know lots. Tons. Heaps.”

“Uh-huh.” I grin. I never thought someone could look so cute lying. “Do you even know what a tight end is?”

“A tight end, why yes, a tight end is…” A slow grin lights up her face. “Your ass.”

A laugh bursts out of me. “I have a feeling we’re about to have some fun months ahead of us.”

The rest of dinner consists of us getting to know each other. When I’m with her, all the pressure on me for this season disappears, and it’s just her and me, enjoying our time together.

With every detail she reveals, an insatiable hunger arises, and I want to devour every facet of her being. Ilike how she leans forward, her face lighting up when she talks about something she’s passionate about. She smiles while she talks, as if encouraging me to share in her excitement, and I’m helpless to resist.

I like it, more than I should.

She makes me want to start running for fun just to see her light up doing something she loves. She also makes me want to keep her stocked in her favorite dessert combination of chocolate and peanut butter, just because it makes her happy. Too bad I don’t have a dog, because she thinks they’re the cutest animals.

These thoughts are ridiculous, I know. I shouldn’t be feeling this way. I don’t even know her. Two evenings with Stella doesn’t mean I know her. Football, I know. I’ve built my entire life around it. But there’s something about her…the way she laughs, the way she looks at me. It feels like a distraction, one I can’t afford. Not now, not ever.

We stay until closing, and when it’s time to leave, I help her stand and place a hand on the small of her back as we walk through the near-empty restaurant. But outside, the paparazzi swarm the sidewalk, camera flashes lighting up the dim restaurant.

“Shit,” she says, slowing to a stop.

“What’s wrong?” I follow her gaze to the paparazzi.

“I don’t want to flash anyone when I get into the car.”

“I’ll block you.” I never considered how many thingswomen have to worry about when exiting and entering a fucking vehicle when they’re photographed nonstop.

“Thank you,” she whispers, chewing on her bottom lip.

“Hey.” I turn her to face me. “We’re in this together.”

“Right.” She nods once and takes a deep breath. “Team FD.”

“FD?”

“Fake dating, duh.”

“Duh.” I laugh. “Team FD for life.”

I thought returningto Skyrise City, Missouri, would be a relief. But it’s not. It’s empty. Lonely.

Maybe I should consider getting a dog to keep me company. I never noticed how quiet my place is until now. The urge to go out and find someone to spend the night with to keep the loneliness at bay strikes. But I can’t do that anymore, not when I refuse to do that to Stella.

I’ve always felt too big for this city, but that point feels like it’s driven home after coming from a city with over eight million people to one that barely tops five hundred thousand. Where New York City has something always open, the stores here close by nine, and most aren’t open on Sundays.

I pull out my phone and message my two best friends. Andrew said I need to make nice with theteam, but I have no idea where to start with that. But maybe Jake and Quincy will have some ideas.

Me: I’m back in town. Anyone up to grill at mine?

Jake: I’ll bring the steaks.

Quincy: I’ll bring the beer.

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