Page 30 of False Start
Christian met my eye with a firm look, like he wasn’t sure whether he’d dropped the social equivalent of a nuclear bomb.
“I don’t know if she has some therapist superpower, or she’s just really good at reading people, but she never liked her. It wasn’t like she was rude about it, and never to her, but you know how Marina gets quiet around people she doesn’t trust. I dunno, man. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I know you have every reason to expect this relationship to bomb the same way your last one did, but the people around you are rooting for you. You both deserve to be happy.”
I wondered how they would feel if they knew the whole thing was a lie. That we’d let them believe in something that was nothing more than a business transaction. A mutually beneficial arrangement that, admittedly, kept blurring the professional lines.
It should have ended when Georgia got the job, but the thought of giving up what little I had of her felt like too much of a sacrifice. It was too soon. I needed more time. More of her.
So I insisted we keep going. And now I was going to meet her family and lie to a new group of people.
Was it really a lie, though?
It may have started that way, but I knew Georgia now, and she knew me. Christian was right; she was nothing like Harmony. Despite being in the public eye, she didn’t seek out the media. I had the sneaking suspicion that she often forgot everyone else in the room when we were together. And wasn’t that one hell of an ego boost.
Christian clapped me on the shoulder and pushed out of his seat. “Whatever happens, just know we’ve always got your back, bro.”
I caught his wrist as he moved toward the back of the bus.
“Same here, man. If there’s anything going on that you need to talk out, I’m here.”
He gave me a nod and moved back a few rows to sit with a rookie player who’d had a rough couple of games.
We pulled into our hotel and I made my way up to my room with visions of a shower and room service dancing in my head. I’d had a shower in the stadium, but I’d Googled the hotel we were in and I had two words. Rainfall. Showerhead. Hell yes.
Half an hour later I was warm and relaxed from my shower and accepting a pepperoni pizza I’d called up from the kitchen. I stretched out on my bed and bit into the first greasy slice when my phone pinged.
Georgie: What does a fake girlfriend have to do around here to get an unsolicited dick pic?
I choked on my mouthful, spraying cheese across the bedspread and trying to regain my breath. Life was never dull talking to my Georgie girl, and I wondered what chain of thoughts had led her to the text.
Weston: She just needs to ask. Also, how did we get onto the subject of unsolicited dick pics?
Georgie: Well… after your text before about being hot and wet I went down a rabbit hole looking up weather trends in Florida, which led me to a site that showcases daily ‘Florida Man’ content (I hope you aren’t going out drinking there, BTW, these guys are insane)
Georgie: Anyway, one of the stories was a Florida woman who received an unsolicited dick pic from a guy, so she hunted him down and removed the dick to teach him about consent. Anyway, then I thought that you’d never do anything like that without consent, but if I asked for it you might. So I texted you.
I laughed, setting my dinner aside in favor of this much more interesting conversation.
Weston: It sounds like you’ve been busy.
Georgie: I’ve been something. So can I get one?
Weston: And what do you plan to do with it?
The dancing dots appeared and disappeared for a drawn-out moment.
Georgie: Show me yours and I’ll show you mine.
Weston: You’re being delightfully bratty tonight, princess.
Georgie: I’m not-so-delightfully horny, Weston. Don’t make me Google Weston Naylor ass dot com. There are whole forums dedicated to how good you look in your uniform, FYI.
Weston: Good to know.
I glanced at the locked door, then at the semi I was already sporting. I liked that Georgia was open about appreciating my body. I worked hard for it. Plus, it felt more like she liked me for me. Not the sports star whose name could open doors. Just Weston.
Without further hesitation, I ditched the plush robe I slipped on after my shower and grabbed my phone. My dick got harder as I tried to take the best picture I could, thinking about what she would do once I sent it. Would she fuck herself with her fingers like she did on my patio?
Rub her clit raw while thinking of riding me?
