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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

DECKER

Karaoke isn’t as entertaining tonight. Lena’s never even come with me, yet somehow I feel her void. I want her here. This place probably isn’t her scene, and I try to picture her gliding around tables and people, the tang of hops and old frying oil destroying her own sweet scent.

Leaning back against the rough brick wall of the bar, I angle my body so my phone screen isn’t visible.

A crick shoots up my spine as I maneuver awkwardly, but at least the position affords me some privacy from my unruly teammates.

Lena’s photo move this morning did something to me, and I have to see it again.

To remind myself that it’s actually real.

It was the unexpected wake-up call I didn’t know I needed, both this morning and in the whole fake arrangement.

The freezing shower I drowned myself in after hardly cooled me off.

The towel last night was almost the death of me, but I couldn’t even enjoy that with all her accusations and name-calling.

Perv . I laugh to myself at the memory. She’s the one sending suggestive pics, and I’m the perv?

I laugh again because I know she’d slap me into the next state if I tried to make that argument.

“Texting Lena? Your face is a dead giveaway,” Cole drawls.

I darken my screen and sit up like a preteen who's just been caught stealing their mom’s lingerie magazines. Which, of course, never happened to me. Our quarterback, Ramiel, lifts his chin in a hello, and I nod to them both.

Ty pops up beside them, a beer in his hand. “Where’s your girl?”

I narrow my eyes. “Why? You gonna tell her to her face that you've been fantasizing about how short her skirt is?”

Ty cocks his head back, widening his eyes at me. “Fantasize? I was making an observation.”

“What if I said the same about your girlfriend?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he says automatically.

“Oh, and I’m sure it’s your mom you were gigglin’ like a schoolgirl with on the phone a little bit ago.” Cole snickers and elbows Ramiel in the ribs, who smiles timidly and rubs his side.

“We all heard you,” I add.

For once, Ty is stunned into silence.

“I’m just kiddin’, man,” I finally say to cut the tension.

Ty’s not a bad guy, but I’ve found he has trouble with boundaries.

Sometimes he needs to be put in his place, and talking about Lena is where I now draw the line.

I haven’t gotten over his locker room commentary yet.

“I’m gonna go grab another drink. You guys want anything? ”

To my relief, they all shake their heads, and I’m able to make a break for it.

I don’t want another drink. I haven’t had anything tonight.

Our season just started. If we want a fighting chance to make it to the Super Bowl again, we need to stay in elite shape.

As I survey the room, I think a lot of the guys are taking last year’s Super Bowl win for granted.

Yeah, they work hard at practice and on the field, but outside of that, some seem to quickly forget that this sport is a round-the-clock commitment.

We aren’t guaranteed anything. And as last year’s winners, we’ve got a target on our back.

A microphone squeals, and I turn to face the stage. Maleko is taking his place behind the stand as music cues up. He finishes a glass of something dark and slams it down on the barstool beside him. Then he spots me.

“Deck! Deck! Come ‘ere, man.” He tries to wave me over, but I’m not in the mood to sing.

His girlfriend sits front row, shaking her head.

This is where he met her, and he still insists on spending almost every major event in his life here.

That poor girl basically lives here because of him, on and off the clock.

“Trace! Duet!” Maleko insists, missing his intro for whatever classic rock song he’s chosen this time.

I walk to the edge of the stage as my phone vibrates in my pocket. “Hey, man. I forgot Lena needed me to do something for her tonight. I’ll catch you later. Call me if you need a ride, or I’ll send Ives or whatever.”

He points to his girlfriend, who is leaning over talking to some other girl. “She’s driving tonight.”

“Good. Happy birthday, and don’t drink too much.”

“Yeah, yeah. We’re in season. Got it. You’re the one who hosted a party last night though,” he argues.

“Just cause alcohol is present doesn’t mean you have to guzzle it like water.”

“You’re no fun!” he shouts, raising his mic to his mouth and finally mumbling his song to a start halfway through the chorus.

I duck into the bathroom before I leave and text Ives that I’m ready to be picked up.

I didn’t know if I’d drink, but just in case, I had him drop me off.

I was too distracted by the thought of seeing Lena to do anything but stare at my phone like some lovesick loser.

But that’s an exaggeration. I’m not lovesick, because that would mean I’m in love, and as much as I crave Lena, I’m not in love with her. I can’t be.

Then I open my newest text. The smile that cracks across my face would be embarrassing if I weren’t the only one in here. That smile is immediately erased.

Lena

Sorry. Tell Maleko happy birthday for me, I won’t be able to do it myself. Too wrapped up at the studio =(

Me

He’s three sheets to the wind and screaming Free Bird on a stage. You sure you wanna miss this?

Lena

As entertaining as that sounds, I’m so close to cracking this song I can feel it. Been stuck here for hours, haven’t even stopped for food yet.

Can I get a rain check on seeing you?

Me

I think you have to if we’re still trying to convince everyone we’re falling in love

Immediately, I regret mentioning it at all. Why bring up the fact that none of this is real? Why remind her when things seem to have taken a step to the next, flirtier level?

Lena

Which reminds me, we need to talk soon. Antonia gave me some news and I want to discuss in person.

My stomach drops. No guy ever wants to hear those fatal words, but it’s even more cryptic with the added “in person” bit.

All the mention of Antonia does is remind me that we’re on borrowed time.

Our clock is ticking, and soon, I won’t have an excuse to be around Lena anymore.

Our deal will be done. With my Vital Reign sponsorship officially on the table, it might as well be a done deal now.

As great as it feels to meet that personal goal, it doesn’t compare to being with Lena.

Having her to myself. I think about life without her.

Life before her. It was good, but bland.

The sponsorship was what I’d been pining for, but now that’s been replaced with a certain blue-eyed, brown haired girl.

Dumping that drawer was as much for her as it was for me.

I meant it when I said I was done with that stuff.

I want what Nora and Ian have, and I want to see if I can build that with Lena.

With time running out, I know exactly what I need to do.

I call Lena three times before she answers.

After our last run-in at the studio-–regardless of how last night went—I’m not showing up unannounced.

Sure, I feel a little overbearing, but this can’t wait.

Two brown paper bags are clenched in my fists.

Niko reamed me tonight for lying to him last time I was in picking up lunch for Lena and me.

I gave him another one about how I couldn’t just expose my relationship “before we knew it was love.” He seemed happy with that little insider answer, and I tipped him extra before I left with my order.

Lies are okay if they’re making people happy, right?

Ives sits in the car with his flashers on, waiting for me like he’s my mom after school or something.

I slide in, double-checking his GPS to make sure he has the address right.

I don’t speak to him the entire way there, my hands are too sweaty, my collar suddenly too tight, until we park and Lena throws the door open.

She’s like a breath of fresh air. And then I register her expression.

She looks annoyed. Then her eyes fall to the bags in my hands.

“Niko’s?” she asks.

I nod.

“Thank God. I don’t even think I’ve eaten today.”

“I know.”

“What did I ever do to deserve a fake boyfriend like you?” Her hand slides up my arm, landing on my shoulder. It’s such a small thing, but it feels so right. “Seriously. Thank you, Decker.”

I want to reach out and grab it and never let go, but I have two greasy bags dangling from each of my fists, so that’ll have to wait. “Gotta take care of my girl.”

Her brows arch playfully, a little grin bending her pink lips.

Just when I think I’ve made a mistake, that maybe she’ll correct me, she snatches up a bag and starts toward the studio.

Paper crinkles as she digs in, grabbing a few fries and shoving them in her mouth.

I follow her down the hall until we get to the studio door.

Pressing her back against it before I can get it for her, she swings it open.

It’s then that I realize she’s still wearing my shirt.

As cute as that sounds—and as she looks—the last thing I want tonight is to be reminded that this isn’t real.

That last night—the kiss, the sleepover, the show we put on for everyone else all night—wasn’t real.

Lena deserves more than a facade, more than someone using her for what she can do for them.

Vital Reign ricochets around my mind. No doubt the deal with them will be sweet.

Life-changing. It’s exactly what I’d been waiting for, but using Lena to achieve it doesn’t feel like much of an accomplishment.

In fact, it makes me feel like crap. She’s worth so much more, and I want her to know that.

Finally, I muster the gonads to say it out loud. “What did you do to deserve me ? The real question is, what did I do to deserve you ?”