Page 53 of The Defender

His expression didn’t waver, but beneath the table, his knuckles whitened around his knee.

I didn’t think about it. I simply reached over and curled my hand over his before I could talk myself out of it.

His skin was warm to the touch, and my pulse beat a little faster.

Moral support.That’s all this was.

Vincent didn’t openly acknowledge my gesture, but I caught the deep bob of his Adam’s apple before his grip relaxed.

“We won’t beat around the bush any longer.” Rex spoke again. “This probably doesn’t come as a surprise, but you’re on our shortlist for potential ambassadors. This dinner is for both parties to get to know each other better. Nothing’s guaranteed yet, but I think you would make a fine face for our brand. What do you think?”

The tension leaked out of Vincent’s body. His shoulders relaxed, and his smile positively dazzled. “I think it would be an honor, sir.”

Lloyd beamed. I could practically see the cartoon dollar signs popping up in his eyes.

Our servers brought out dessert, and the mood was light and celebratory until Dale said, “Forgive me if I’m speaking out of turn, but it’s refreshing to see an athlete of your caliber in a committed relationship. Not that relationship status is a dealbreaker.” He added that part hastily when Rex glared at him. “But a brand always runs the risk of scandal when they sign someone single. The affairs, the parties…”

“And you two make such a gorgeous couple.” Sandra gestured toward Vincent and me. “So photogenic. I love it.”

My stomach flipped. I opened my mouth, but Vincent beat me to the punch.

“Brooklyn and I aren’t dating,” he said, his tone apologetic but firm. I thought I heard a ripple of something else beneath the surface, but it was gone before I could pinpoint what it was. “We’re just friends.”

“Exactly,” I said quickly. “Friends. That’s all.”

I released his hand and took a gulp of water, trying to cope with the sudden awkwardness. Vincent was right, of course. Weweren’tdating. The closest we’d come to a romantic relationship was our stupid bet. Maybe he wanted me and, as loath as I was to admit it, maybe I wanted him too. But hearing him deny we were dating so swiftly and resolutely was the reminder I needed.

The bet was just a bet. Nothing more, nothing less.

The Zenith execs’ smiles melted, replaced with expressions of confusion. A vein pulsed in Lloyd’s temple. The cartoon dollar signs had been replaced by a panicked glare.

“Oh!” Sandra looked mortified. “I apologize. I assumed…”

“It’s okay.” Vincent maintained a light, easy tone. “Listen, I get it. Single athletes can be a menace, and I say that as one myself.” Another round of laughter chased away some of the awkwardness. “I’ll be honest. I’m not married, and I don’t know when I’ll be married. But when I commit to something, personally or professionally, I’m all in. Loyalty is important to me, and I don’t jump into a partnership for the sake of having one. I hope you understand.”

Vincent fucking DuBois.

That was the most masterful pivot I’d ever seen, and judging by the execs’ nods, it’d worked.

I almost made a joke about how married celebrities weremoreprone to scandal, but I didn’t want to accidentally fuck things up, so I kept my mouth shut the way I had all night.

The rest of dinner passed without incident. We left the restaurant together, and Lloyd waited until the execs were gone before he forced us to debrief at the valet station.

“That went pretty well, despite the relationship fiasco,” he said. “I almost had a fucking aneurysm.”

“I’m not going to fake date someone for a brand deal,” Vincent said. He sounded annoyed. “This isn’t a rom-com.”

“No, it’s just anine-figure dealthat’ll set you up for the rest of your life.”

I almost choked on my spit.Nine figures?That was at least a hundred million dollars. I couldn’t wrap my head around such a sum. They might as well be talking about Monopoly money.

They had a quick discussion about timelines. The holidays were coming up, so Lloyd didn’t expect any concrete news until after the new year.

Then the valet pulled up with Vincent’s car, ending the conversation. I climbed into the passenger seat while Vincent turned the radio on.

“Don’t forget to check your email!” Lloyd yelled after us. “There’s a lot of end-of-year paperwork coming your way!”

“Wow,” I said after we pulled away. “He needs to chill, or he’ll have a heart attack by forty.”