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The car ride back home is full of joy after that victory, but I still sense that Travis is a little subdued.

I promised him I’d wait to file the papers until after the hearing, and it’s time. I know that’s what’s eating at him. He doesn’t want this…at least I don’t think he does, which leads us straight into more of the same reason I’m doing this in the first place.

As soon as we get home, I should send them to Travis’s lawyer. But maybe I’ll wait until tomorrow.

I’m second-guessing whether it’s the right thing to do. I really believed all the words I spoke at the hearing about what a wonderful man he is. My parents put doubt in my head that I’m doing the right thing, too.

But just because he’s wonderful doesn’t mean we should stay married.

The two weeks before the start of the season are light practices, and Mandy and Jaxon decide to throw an impromptu bachelor and bachelorette party with only twenty-four hours’ notice.

I find this out Thursday night when I’m over at Mandy’s apartment helping her pack up since she’s moving in with Jaxon after they get married a week from Saturday.

“Jax rented out an entire nightclub at one of the fancy hotels on the strip, so get ready to party party,” she says.

“If you’re planning the bachelorette party, what am I supposed to do as matron of honor?” I ask.

I still haven’t told her about the divorce.

I still haven’t filed the papers.

“Nothing. We’ve got it covered. We’re doing this party, we’re getting married in Denver next Saturday, and then we’re throwing a big party after the baby gets here,” she says as she pulls plates down out of a cabinet.

“What about a wedding shower?” I suggest.

She twists her lips and shrugs a little. “Nah. We don’t need pots and pans and all that jazz. In fact, I’m donating most of the shit in here because Jax has better stuff.”

I laugh. “What about a baby shower, then? When are you due again?”

“Early January. A baby shower after the wedding would be lovely,” she says.

Did I know this? Did I ask this that night I got wasted? I guess it makes sense. If she’s due in early January, she must be around five months along. She’ll start showing any second, but it’s hard to tell around the giant Aces sweatshirt she’s wearing.

“You got it. Start registering and figuring out what you want and I’ll start planning. And you better expect all the ridiculous games,” I warn.

“I’d expect nothing less from you.”

We both giggle.

“So how’s it going with DILF Woods?” she asks.

“I don’t think you can call him that anymore now that you’re knocked up by the running back,” I say.

“Ooh, that reminds me. Have you read Knocked Up by the Running Back yet?”

I giggle. We haven’t talked spicy books in a while. “Does that really exist?”

“Just the version I’m working on.” She wiggles her brows at me.

I gasp. “Are you serious?”

She winks at me. “What else am I going to do between now and when the baby gets here? I have plenty of real-life experience to write about.”

I giggle. “Don’t forget about me when you’re a famous author.”

“How could I? Book two will obviously be your story with Travis. Picture it.” She closes her eyes and makes a rainbow in the air with her hands. “ Knocked Up by the Wide Receiver . After he’s the best man at our wedding, naturally.”

I can’t help when my face falls.

For one thing…he’s the best man? That’s news to me.

And for another…that’s the whole problem here, isn’t it?

Our spicy books are supposed to have happy endings. But as Travis and I plow toward the end, it’s not looking very happy at all.

Twenty-four hours later, I find myself at the bar ordering a drink at my best friend’s bachelorette party…a party which, by the way, the bride herself cannot drink at.

I may have pre-partied a little knowing Travis is going to be here. I may have regrets tomorrow, but right now, I’m feeling nice and fine until said wide receiver sidles up next to me at the bar.

“Put hers on my tab,” he says, and it’s reminiscent of the first night we met at the Gridiron.

I glance over at him with a scowl.

“She’s my wife,” he tells the bartender, as if he cares.

It’s not a lie. I am his wife.

For now.

I blow out a breath knowing this is a totally useless argument, and I tap my glass to indicate I’d like another…especially since my husband is picking up the tab.

“So what are your plans for the night?” he asks, tapping his tequila against my vodka soda.

I shrug. “I’ll Lyft it home I guess.”

“I got a suite upstairs. You’re welcome to stay with me.”

I purse my lips. “No thanks.”

He leans in close. Too close. So close I can smell him. So close my tummy does one of those traitorous flips.

“I thought you didn’t want Mandy finding out about the divorce yet,” he says, his breath tickling my ear.

“I don’t,” I grit out, ignoring the shiver down my spine and the goosebumps pebbling my skin. “But I know what you’re doing, and it isn’t going to work.”

“What am I doing? I’m offering to fake it with you just for tonight so your best friend can go on believing we’re happily married so it doesn’t ruin her wedding. Unless you want that to be your thing.”

“My thing?” I ask, my brows creasing.

“You know. Ruining the wedding weekend of people important to you with your own relationship news.” He shrugs at the end.

“Fuck you,” I hiss at him.

My sister still won’t talk to me. I’m sure she’ll be overjoyed Travis and I are over. Hell, she’ll probably try to push me back toward my asshole ex.

“It’s not like that.” I’m getting defensive, and I shouldn’t let him push my buttons.

And yet…he does it so damn well. He’s the only person who knows how to get me all riled up only to salve the frustration with his tongue.

Wait a second.

I did not just think that.

Absolutely not.

“Prove it, then. Fake it with me just for tonight.”

My tummy did not just flip again.

Shit. I am so fucked.