Page 33 of The Brickwall and the Bombshell

“Unlike you, I can control my sexual urges.” Her tone is patronizing, but I wouldn’t expect anything less. When we’re like this, I start to believe it can work. It’s when we get vulnerable and raw that I start to question my decisions.

She smirks. “But when the urge hits, I just use my trusty vibrator.”

My dick lengthens and swells, which I know my athletic shorts will not hide, so I shift my weight to hide my reaction to her admission. But what I can’t do is stop myself from imagining exactly what Greer would do with the aforementioned vibrator.

Her lean legs spread.

Head thrown back.

A little pink—no black… definitely black vibrator poised at the entrance of her perfect—

“Furthermore, let’s not start bringing in hypothetical fuck ups. I’m just starting to not hate you, but when you start throwing your playboy ways, those feelings bubble to the surface. It’ll behoove you to not mention it for the next… oh, that brings me to the other topic we need to cover, time. How long will we keep up this ruse?”

I don’t know where the cold sensation comes from, but it replaces the heat that had just been coursing through my body, bringing me back to reality.

“I guess until the off season, whenever that is.”

Our team is so close to the playoffs we can smell it, but we can’t speak about it now, because that would jinx us.

“After that, we can reevaluate. My agent might want me to keep it up through the offseason, but if you’re done and need to move on, I think we could come up with something… maybe a public break up or you could be seen out with someone. I just can’t be the one to do it. Everyone would hate me if I broke it off with you.”

Her smile falters and she cocks her head back. “Ineed to be the one?” She huffs out a laugh and shakes her head, opening and closing her mouth a couple times before she continues. “We’ll work something out, but believe me, I don’t want to be known around the city as the woman who broke Mack Granger’s heart. Trust me, even though people think you’re a playboy, they still adore you and that would be bad formyimage.”

Huh, I hadn’t really thought of it that way, but I guess she’s right. Greer also has an image to uphold and it’s important to her career.

“I’m telling George about our relationship today, when I take him this new evidence and information,” she informs me, her tone going back to business. “I think you should do the same and tell Buddy. I don’t want any awkwardness in the clubhouse or on the field. Let’s keep in mind we both have a job on the line.”

I nod, crossing my arms over my chest. “I agree. And I have an event when the team is back for our long home-stand, so that can be our first public outing. Bo and Lola will be there, but I haven’t heard anything from the rest of the team.”

“Who are we telling the truth to?” she asks, mimicking my pose. “I can’t keep this from Sophie.”

“Agreed, I can’t keep it from Owen or Ross, and I think Bo should know too, so that implies Casey and Lola will also be in the know.”

She inhales deeply and then puffs it out, her eyes locking with mine. “That feels like a solid circle of trust and there should be enough people on the inside to help us make this look legit.”

“It sounds like we have a game plan,” I tell her, taking the bag from her shoulder and commandeering her suitcase. With the plastic baggie tucked safely under my arm, I walk out her front door. “Be sure to lock up.”

“Rule number one, no bossing me around.”

I want to ask her about when we’re naked, but I don’t because that should be the farthest thing from my mind right now. Not only is Greer in a crisis, but we also just entered into an agreement for a fake relationship. Real feelings would only complicate things and I know now, if I ever get Greer naked, it won’t be just fucking.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

GREER

“I don’t like this,”George says, sitting in the office with me and the detective who’s taken on the case. “It’s one thing for them to try things at work, but following you to your house is some next level bullshit.”

His face is red, and it only gets like that when he’s angry, but I’ve never seen George pissed about anything besides rankings and numbers.

“You’re going to do something about this.” George isn’t asking a question; he’s making a statement—a very strong statement.

The detective shows no emotions as he leans forward in his chair. “We’re doing everything we can, which isn’t much at this point.”

“What the hell do you mean it isn’t much?” George bellows, standing from his chair so fast it rolls into the wall behind him. “We don’t need this kind of publicity. If this leaks to the public, other stations will pick up on it and it’ll be a whole fucking fiasco.”

Ah, so that’s it. George apparently isn’t in theall publicity is good publicitycamp.

“We’ve pulled the video from your apartment building,” Detective Briggs informs, turning his attention back to me. “But it’s similar to what we got from the parking lot the day the note was left. The suspect entered the building wearing a dark hoodie with no identifying marks. They never looked at a camera, seemingly aware of their placement or just keeping a low profile, and they were in and out in a minute.”

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