Page 13 of The Fantasy League
“Hmm.” She made a taut face, pretending like she was considering my offer. “Still no.”
“There has to be a reason, so tell me.”
“No, just no.”
Fuck. She wasn’t going to budge.
Was the idea of going on a date with me that bad? I knew I didn’t deserve a “World’s Greatest Boss” mug, but damn.
I racked my brain trying to figure out something that I could leverage to get her to agree to this. There wasn’t anyone else I could picture myself in a relationship with.
“I’ll give you the house,” I deadpanned after a moment of contemplating my options.
“What?”
“I— I’ll give you the house.” I sighed, slumping back against the counter. “If you pretend to be my girlfriend, I’ll give you the house. No strings attached aside from the obvious.”
I hated myself for using that as a means to sway her, but I was desperate.
When Lea told me in passing about Scarlett’s blog, I looked it up and perused all of her posts. And I’ve checked back every week since to see what new recipes she came out with. Most of which she’d tested on me before posting. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bring a smile to my face.
I liked the little stories that she wrote about each recipe telling people where the food originated from or the story that inspired it. My favorite ones, though, were the stories about her and Mae growing up together.
On more than one occasion, Scarlett has dropped hints in her posts that she dreamed of living across the street from her sister one day, so they could raise their families together.
Sure, I could’ve kept the house and found someone who would’ve done the job for free. But giving her the house didn’t feel like much of a loss if it meant making her childhood dream come true.
“You would give me the house… this house? The one we are standing in right now?” she questions with her index fingers pointed toward the floorboards. “Why?”
“You can’t live in that pool house forever, Red.” I shrug, refraining from elaborating further. It was probably best not to incriminate myself for stalking my employee’s blog.
Walking over to the island, she slumped down onto a barstool, huffing out a breath and sinking her face into her palms.
Someone must have had a rough night.
At least she finally stopped pacing. I was about to go fucking nauseous from watching her speed walk back and forth across the kitchen.
“I know I can’t live in a pool house forever.” I swore I heard her whisper out an “Asshole,” but I could have been imagining it. A strangled cry of frustration escaped her lips.
Part of me wanted to remain hopeful that she would accept, but based on that sound she probably wouldn’t.
If she rejected me, would she quit? Would I have to let her go? I’d have to move neighborhoods too, wouldn’t I? Yup. I wouldn’t be able to recover from that.
I ran my hands down my cheeks as I pondered all of the possibilities. I hadn’t dated anyone in half a decade for this reason exactly.
It was too much stress, too much drama. Two things that I didn’t have time or energy to deal with.
I knew early on that I wanted to be the best in the league and that didn’t leave much time for dating or relationships. I sacrificed my time and worked my fucking ass off to be the best. And the Bowl ring sitting in my office upstairs was proof that I was on the path to achieving that.
Fuck, no one had even caught my eye until Scarlett caught me off guard in Coach’s office. And I was fucking sold the moment I saw those big brown eyes peer up at me for the first time.
Scarlett lifted her head from her hands and we stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment. No words. Just vulnerability visibly coursing through our gazes.
Sighing, I kept her gaze as I asked the fateful question that lingered between us. “What do you say?”
I knew what I wanted, but this was her choice to make.
FIVE
