Page 2

CHAPTER 2

COOPER

T he soles of my sneakers pound against the pavement with a staccato rhythm on my morning run. Since it’s the Monday after the game, I’m supposed to be taking advantage of the opportunity to rest my body, but I’m too keyed up after the win.

Nothing will ever beat the thrill I feel when scoring a touchdown, especially as a pro. Each time I cross the goal line, the euphoric feeling only seems to intensify. By the end of our season, I feel like I might actually explode into tiny pieces and rain down on the end zone like confetti.

I love almost everything about being a football player, but there are a few drawbacks to playing at the professional level. Especially being on a team located in a state far from where I grew up. My parents can’t attend every home game like I wish they could. But they were able to be at the season opener to see me in my first professional game. I loved having them there, along with my twin sister, Cassie. I wish they could’ve been there yesterday too, but we spoke on the phone last night and they told me how proud I made them. My father got choked up when he spoke about my touchdowns. I can’t ask for more than that.

The other drawback to playing pro ball is the grueling schedule we keep. It’s not only the early training sessions and long days spent on the field and in the weight room—not to mention all the film we need to watch. It’s the number of social engagements we’re required to attend, when all I want to do is chill at home. Then there’s the female attention that seems to go hand in hand with my sport. I like women but I love football, and I won’t let anything jeopardize my career.

I round the corner of my street, settling into a fast walk for the remaining distance. When I reach my house, I slow my pace further, continuing up and down my driveway numerous times to cool down. I raise the front of my t-shirt, swiping it over my damp face before entering the side door.

“What’s up, baby bro?” Cassie asks. She loves to remind me she was born two minutes earlier than me.

“Figured I’d get a run in early.”

“Have you ever heard of sleeping in on your day off?” she teases.

“You know I’ve always been an early riser.”

“Yep. You’re one of those annoying people who doesn’t need much sleep. I wish I’d gotten that gene.”

“What’s that amazing smell?”

She smiles. “I made you some delicious high-protein muffins.”

Normally I’d be skeptical of high-protein baked goods, but my sister is a genius when it comes to baking. “This is why I let you live with me.”

She snorts. “Yeah, it doesn’t have anything to do with having a built-in housekeeper and all the sage advice I provide.”

“Well, that too.” I laugh. Wandering over to the fridge, I grab two waters and then snatch a muffin from the tray before I sit down at the island. Twisting the cap off one of the bottles, I guzzle the entire thing without stopping.

“You should drink while you’re running,” Cassie suggests.

“I’m not carrying a bottle for five miles.”

She rolls her eyes and doesn’t say anything else while I break apart the muffin. I like to save the top for last. I take a piece from the bottom and pop it into my mouth. The first taste has me humming and nodding. It’s still warm from the oven, and packed with fresh blueberries.

“This is amazing. I can’t even tell it’s loaded with protein.”

She smiles. “I know.”

“You should sell these. On second thought, no, you shouldn’t. They’re all mine.”

“I’m gonna freeze some so they last.”

“Don’t do that. I’ll have them gone in three days’ time.”

“I made a dozen.”

“Okay, four days, then.”

She shrugs. “If you say so. Also, I saw a recap of the highlights from yesterday’s game. You kicked ass.” She’s always been one of my biggest cheerleaders.

“Thanks.”

“I wish I could’ve been there. Stupid work schedule.” She graduated from college last year with a liberal arts degree, and still doesn’t know what she wants to do. While she’s deciding, she’s working in a local coffee shop.

“No worries. I don’t expect you to attend every home game.”

She presses her lips together. “But I like to witness all of your great plays in person.”

“I know you do, and that’s all that matters. Don’t beat yourself up every time you can’t be there.”

“Where did you go after the game?”

“O’Toole’s.”

“Who was there?”

“Rogan and his girlfriend Autumn, her best friend Scarlett, and a couple other teammates.”

She pouts. “Damn. Now I really wish I’d made it to the game. I could’ve met Autumn and her friend. It would be nice to hang out with some women I don’t see at work every day.”

“I don’t want you near any of the players on my team. They’d eat you up and spit you out.”

She puts her hands on her hips. “As if.”

“Don’t act like you’re some experienced hardass. They’d pick up on your innocence in two seconds flat and you’d become their next challenge.”

“You told me your teammates were nice.”

“Yeah, they are, but I’m a guy. When it comes to women, they’re all out to get laid.”

“You’re not like that.”

“I’m not. But believe me, I’m the exception.”

“You can’t protect me forever.”

“Who says?” I smile.

“How long did you stay at the restaurant?”

“I don’t know. A couple of hours maybe. I left with everyone else.”

“Wow. I can’t believe you lasted that long. You’re usually the first to go.”

I shrug one shoulder. “We were celebrating.”

She studies me closely. “There’s more to it than that.”

Dammit. One of the hardest parts of having a twin is they know you better than anyone else.

“I was having fun.”

“With?”

“Everyone.” She raises an eyebrow and stares at me until I relent. “I was talking with Scarlett.”

Her eyes go round. “Oooh.”

“Don’t make it something it’s not. She and I have become friends over the past month or so.”

“Why haven’t I heard you mention her?”

“I don’t tell you every detail of my life.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Just like you don’t tell me everything.”

“Okay, good point.”

“She helped me out of an awkward situation at dinner when one particularly aggressive fan wouldn’t leave me alone.”

“What did she do?”

“She pretended to be my girlfriend.”

“Oh, I like her already.”

“I think you’d get along well. She’s one of those no-bullshit people who isn’t afraid to speak their mind.”

“Maybe you should ask her to be your real girlfriend.” She wiggles her eyebrows.

“That’s not gonna happen. I’m not losing my focus now that I’m living out my dream.”

“Then you should have her pretend to be your girlfriend for the season.”

I laugh. “That’s a crazy idea.”

“Is it, though? It would be like a shield between you and all the distracting female attention. Sooner or later you’re going to feel pressured to give in to some gorgeous woman.”

“I’ve managed to avoid that to this point.”

“You weren’t nationally known on the scale you are now. Also, how long do you think it’s going to take your teammates to comment on your lack of interest when women throw themselves at you?”

“I already confided in Rogan that I’m a virgin.”

“You did?” I can see the surprise in her eyes. “What did he say?”

“Not much. He didn’t make a big deal of it.”

She leans her elbows on the other side of the island. “He didn’t ask you why?” I shake my head. “If he did, what were you going to say?”

“The truth. I don’t care if that makes me seem weird to others.”

“Tell them it’s not easy growing up with the pressures of having a preacher father.”

“It may not have been the easiest, but I wouldn’t trade having Mom or Dad for parents for all the meaningless sex in the world.”

“Agreed. But I still think you should ask Scarlett to be your pretend girlfriend.”

“I don’t know…” I think about how Scar told me she’s taking a sabbatical from dating. We do get along well, so it’s not like she’d be miserable spending time with me. Maybe she wouldn’t be opposed to helping me out.

As soon as my knuckles rap on the door, a flood of reservation hits me.

Shit .

Should I be doing this? Maybe I should’ve called first. What if I’m interrupting her work?

But then Scarlett appears in front of me and it’s too late for a hasty retreat back to my truck.

“Hey, Coop.”

“Hi. I’m sorry to show up unannounced like this.”

“It’s not a problem. Come on.” She steps aside, ushering me inside before closing the door. “I was about to make myself a cup of coffee. Would you like one?”

“Yes, please. That would be great.” It’s not exactly the kind of liquid courage I could benefit from right now but the caffeine can’t hurt. I follow her to the kitchen.

“Make yourself comfortable,” she says. I watch as she pulls two mugs from a cabinet. She’s wearing black leggings that show off every inch of her long legs and her ass, paired with a cropped purple sweatshirt.

“What’s on your socks?” I can’t make out the pattern.

She laughs, peering over her shoulder. “They’re Boston Terriers. I had one growing up; he was the best. Someday, I’ll get another.”

“Why not now?” I ask.

She adds a coffee pod to the machine and starts the brewing process. “Training a puppy seems like it would be a lot of work, and I’m not ready for that.”

“We had a lot of dogs in my house when I was growing up, and you’re right, it takes a lot of consistent effort to train them.”

She fiddles with the machine, and I hear the sound of coffee running into the second mug. “Cream or sugar?” she asks.

“No, thanks.”

Turning, she carries both mugs over, sliding mine across the island to me.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. And I drink mine black too. I want it as strong as possible.”

“I hope I’m not interrupting your work. I probably should’ve asked before now.”

“Not at all. One of the best things about working for myself is my schedule has flexibility.”

“I know you host a podcast but I don’t know what the subject matter is.”

“Professional wrestling.”

I feel my eyebrows climb higher. “Wow. That’s not what I was expecting at all.”

Her dark pink lips show a hint of a smile. “What did you think I’d say?”

I rub the back of my neck. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I assumed with how tall and pretty you are, it would be modeling.”

She raises one dark eyebrow. “You know what they say about people who assume…”

“Yep.” I hang my head, staring into my dark coffee. “I’m sorry. You probably think I’m some stereotyping asshole now, but I promise that’s not me.”

She shakes her head. “You’ve never given me a reason to think that?—”

“Until now,” I cut in, meeting her gaze.

She nods, repeating, “Until now.”

“I’m curious about what made you want to do a wrestling podcast.”

“You mean because I’m a woman?” she challenges.

I swallow nervously. “No, uh…” I fumble for words.

She laughs. “I’m messing with you.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Jesus.”

“Come on, even I know a wrestling podcast isn’t the norm for most women. I’ve been watching professional wrestling with my dad since I was a small child. It was the one thing we bonded over, and it’ll forever be one of my favorite things.”

“How long have you been doing the podcast for?”

“Three years.”

“How many subscribers do you have?”

“One million.”

“Whaaat?” I don’t even try to keep my surprise under wraps.

She smiles. “You heard right.”

“That’s incredible. Congratulations.”

“Thank you. It’s not as popular as I want it to be, but I’m slowly getting there. So I’m assuming you didn’t come over to discuss my work.”

“No. I was thinking about yesterday at the restaurant and how you stepped in to help me out.” Pausing, I nervously thrust my fingers through my hair. “I was wondering if you’d be willing to do that more often.”

“How often?” She sips on her coffee, looking at me over the rim.

“Until the end of the season?”

She sets the mug on the island, keeping both hands wrapped around it. “Tell me exactly what you’re looking for.”

I nod. “ I want you to pretend to be my girlfriend. You and I both want to focus on our careers and not get distracted, so I was thinking if we pretended to be in a relationship, it could benefit both of us.”

Her contemplative gaze feels heavy on me. “How would this arrangement benefit me?”

I rake my teeth over my bottom lip. “Okay, it doesn’t really benefit you. But you’d get to come to some interesting events with me. Maybe even make some connections for your podcast.”

When she doesn’t reply, my thoughts spin like a tornado, leaving me sorting through the leftover wreckage for something positive to say. “I’d pay you for your time.”

“How much?”

“Whatever you want.” Now that I’ve broached the topic, I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get her to agree.

“Ten thousand dollars for each month,” she says without missing a beat.

Holy shit. “Okay.”

She giggles and slaps a hand over her mouth to contain the sound. Her torso shakes from the effort of restraining herself, but it’s no use. She finally gives in and lets the guffaws rip while I stand here feeling like a jackass.

“I’m sorry,” she gasps out between bouts of laughter. “I’m not laughing at you.”

“Right,” I droll. It sure as hell feels like I’m the brunt of a joke.

She wipes the outer corners of her eyes. “No, really. I’m laughing because I’m totally screwing with you. I would never take your money.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re friends and that’s enough for me.”

“But there’s nothing wrong with me compensating you for your time.”

“Maybe not, but I won’t accept anything from you.”

“So are you saying you’re agreeing to fake a relationship with me?”

She smiles and shrugs. “Sure. Why not?”

I inhale fully for the first time since I arrived, then release the breath with a relieved sigh. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. You may regret this arrangement.”

“Why would I?”

She stretches her arms out. “I don’t know if you can handle all this fun.”

I grin. “I’m confident in my abilities.”

“So tell me the plan, Coop.”

“That’s boyfriend to you.”

She laughs. “I think you mean boytoy. I am a few years older than you, after all.”

“I don’t really have a plan yet. I figured I’d ask you first.”

“We need to come up with one.” She crosses to the other side of the kitchen and rifles through a drawer. When she returns, she sets a pad of paper down and clicks the top of the pen in her hand. “Step one should be us coming up with our backstory.”

“We met through Rogan and Autumn this summer and we started seeing each other.”

“Right, and we only made it official recently,” she adds, her pen moving across the paper. “Step two, I need to know when to block off time in my schedule.”

“I have a charity event Wednesday night that I’m required to be at.”

“That works for me, but I’ll need all the details so I know what I should wear.”

“I can text you all the details, and I want to add a stipulation to our agreement.” She nods, and I continue, “If you need something to wear for any of the events we go to, I’m paying.”

“I can deal with that. Just so you know, I’m going to talk to Autumn about our arrangement. She’s my best friend, and her knowing will be helpful to me. I’m guessing she and Rogan will be attending some of the same events as us.”

He nods. “I plan on telling Rogan too, so it only makes sense that Autumn’s in on it as well.”

“You’ll need to let me know the schedule as soon as you can so I can make a note.” She drops the pen on top of the pad.

“Should we shake on it?” I ask.

She rounds the island and I slip from the barstool. She opens her arms. “I’m a hugger.”

I move forward and we share a quick embrace. “You’re awesome for doing this.”

She waves her hand “Pfft. I’m awesome in a lot of ways, which you’ll be learning firsthand soon enough, boytoy.”