Page 45 of Play Fake
“Like what?”
I clear my throat. “Oh, I don’t know. Different shit that gives me a rush, you know?”
“Such as…”
“Drag racing down the Strip. High-stakes gambling. Riding a roller coaster with my sister’s hot friend and throwing my hands in the air while I yellfuck itat the top of my lungs with her.”
Her cheeks redden at my words. They were intended to incite a reaction.
Yeah, I called her hot. She is, okay? She’s not one of the models with the huge tits and the long legs and platinum blonde hair cascading down her shoulders.
She’s shorter than me by nearly a foot, and her hair is decidedly short and dark, and her tits aren’t huge but appear to be perfect handfuls. And her ass…
God, I still think of her ass in those shorts that first night she was here. The curve spilling out the bottom of her shorts.
I want to ram into that ass.
Whoa.
Dex.
Pull it together.
Jesus, this girl is doing things to me that I can’t seem to get under control. More than any of the blondes with the tits ever did to me.
And I think it’s because she’s not just hot, but she has depth to her. I want to take her to a charity event and show her off as my wife.
I want to date her. I want to see where these feelings take us.
I want to feel the rush that I seem to get from her that feels so different from the drag racing and gambling and other shit I do to try to recreate that feeling. It’s stronger with her, and it’s both addicting and terrifying.
Maybe the most terrifying thing I’ve ever done.
And that’s why we can’t take it any further than this. This will fade. The feelings are only there because I have a woman in my house that’s taking care of not just this surprise kid, but of me, too. It’s all new and different, and that’s all.
I won’t fuck up the balance of that with sex.
It’s not worth it.
I shake off the feeling. “I should call it a night,” I say. “I’m meeting some teammates for a workout and breakfast in the morning. Should be home around noon.”
She nods. “Have fun. I’m going to stay out here a little while longer.” She picks up the romance book she had sitting on the end table, and she’s already engrossed in her book before I even get up from my chair.
I study her for just a second, and I immediately regret it when I realize my vow from only a second ago that it’s not worth it was a total and complete lie.
* * *
“A certified letter came for you, Mr. Bradley,” Dennis, the morning doorman, says to me as I walk back in after my morning with teammates.
It was a rowdy, fun morning, and to be honest, I can’t wait to get my ass back on the field.
Six more days. Six days until training camp begins. Six days until I go back to being myself again. Six days until I get the fuck out of here and have a chance to think and breathe without this woman complicating my every thought.
Six days until I have to be away from her. Away from Jack. Away from the two people who have become such fixtures in my life in three short weeks.
I’m so goddamn conflicted, and the football field has always been where I’ve worked out those conflicts.
Only six of us made it this morning, but the five aside from me who came are good dudes who I consider good friends. And one of them, Deon, called me out on being quiet when I’m usually not.
