Page 22 of Only Between Us

“Doubt we’ll have to work too hard at it.”

Brooks tips his head to the left of the field, where a guy seems to have stopped mid-drill to check his phone. I’ve seen this move before though, when I dated my ex. He’s filming.

And here we are, sitting with two whole empty seats between us. The same thought seems to occur to Brooks. He stands, drops into the seat next to mine. He’s so big and long-legged that he barely fits in the tiny chair. His knee juts out, brushing my thigh, and I hastily cross my legs, cutting off the contact.

“Wow,” Brooks deadpans. “The picture of true love.”

“I didn’t expect to have to startnow. I thought I’d have more time to mentally prepare.” I uncross my legs. Hesitate before pushing my knee back against his. “There. Happy?”

Brooks stares down at our connecting knees. It might be a trick of the afternoon sun, but he almost looks amused. “Hate to break it to you, Pippen, but this”—he gestures between us with a finger—“started nine months ago.”

I attempt to keep my glare to a minimum. “What do you expect me to do? Let you bend me over in one of your naughty back alleys?”

Shit. Didn’t mean to let that slip. Once it became clear I wouldn’t be falling asleep easily last night, I caved and fired up an internet search on the man at my side. Doing it felt dirty after a while, though. I quit the second I caught sight of that first back-alley picture.

“You know about that,” he says grimly.

“Not until yesterday. I figured if I was going to do this, I should probably know what kind of guy I was getting in bed with. Or, you know, into a back alley with.”

He gives me a single, curt nod. “So, that’s anoto the naughty back alleys, then. Noted.”

The joke catches me so off guard I have to turn my chuckle into a cough. “Cute.”

He shoots me a wink. “So they say.”

What the hell was that?

“Attwood,” I say, a sarcastic warning in my voice. “Don’t you know you’re not supposed to flirt with your stalker?”

“Not according to the stuff Summer reads.” He chuckles to himself, then jerks his chin toward the field. “There are about three phones pointed at us right now, Pippen. I’m gonna need you to look like you can stand me, at the very fucking least.”

Right.

“Four phones.” I sweep the field below us. What the hell did I just get myself into? “We should probably come up with some parameters, then. Ground rules for this dating thing, so we’re on the same page.”

“Probably a good idea.” Brooks sinks in his seat, then does a double take when he notices me looking at him expectantly. “What?”

“What do you mean,what? You’re the one who’s done this before. How am I supposed to know how to fake-date someone?”

“Everdatedsomeone before? The point is to make it as close to the real thing as possible, if you want a shot at convincing anyone.” He glances pointedly at our knees. “Though if this sad display of affection is any indication, we’re about to have a relationship-ending blowout.”

“Would you like me to mount you, here and now? I thought we were going for wholesome.”

“We’re going for madly in love.”

I pull out a pad of paper I’d brought with me from the shop and poise a pen near the top. “I’m not used to it, all right? Tom didn’t do PDA.”

“How is that possible?” He stares at me, looking strangely disturbed.

“How’s what possible?”

“Nothing.” He runs a hand over his face. “Ship Happens? What is that?”

I stare at the logo on my notepad. An anchor bisecting the wordsShip Happens. “It’s my family’s bait shop. My dad had a great sense of humor.”

“Had?”

I feel Brooks’s gaze on me and kick myself mentally for bringing up Dad. He’d been such a fan of Brooks’s, both with the Huskies and the Rebels. How unfortunate that he’s turned out to be so disappointing.