Page 6

Chapter 6

Zack

I love making Emilie’s face red—the closest to her hair color, the better. Currently, she’s making a list of rules and plans in a shared note on her phone, one she’s already shared with me and confirmed I can open. Don’t ask the woman a single social media question because she’ll think you’re technology illiterate for the rest of time.

“What about social media? Should we post about each other?” I ask.

“Yes, but if you use any nasty 2000’s rap lyrics as the caption…” She throws a look at me, one that says, ‘I’ve been on your socials.’ I like the idea of her looking. “Rule two, let’s run social media posts by the other, just to make sure we’re comfortable.”

I have no issue with what she’d post; she’s too much of a good girl to ruffle my feathers. Now, I’ve been in trouble more than once with an accidental post that was meant to go to a single person, or something the PR team views as borderline and asks me to take down, ‘just to be safe.’

I’m the long snapper, no one’s really paying that close of attention. Well, maybe they are, but to be honest, I barely care.

“Agreed, but I don’t want any more rules. Two is enough. I won’t be a dick and I’ll play nice, ok?”

Emilie nods, setting her phone in her lap while locking the screen, and picking up her iced coffee.

“Now, when is family dinner?” I ask, thinking back to her snarky sister grilling Emilie at the event. “Need to get it in my calendar. ”

“I would never subject you to that, Zack.” She catches my eyes, pausing. “Seriously.”

“No, I want to come. At some point before the wedding, whenever you’re comfortable.” I like the idea of meeting her family, mostly to understand her better. She’s always acted like she’s only got herself, when it’s just not true. I’m guessing her family has something to do with that.

“Fine. Remember, you asked for this.” She chews on her straw, one of her nervous habits.

She’s right. I did. I’m a little afraid to admit why.

“This is torture. Why do you do this to yourself?” a breathless Riley, blonde hair pulled into an almost too-high ponytail, whines while resting hands on her knees. Even though we’re at the Cosmos facility, it’s just the two of us. Everyone is still squeezing in the last of summer before football takes over.

My baby sister is one of my favorite people, but that doesn’t mean she’s not dramatic as fuck.

“Don’t act like you’ve never done burpees before.” I turn to her right before I jump, finishing my own.

She whips her head to look at me, the sweat dripping down her nose. “Not after every squat variation you could think of.”

The timer goes off, letting me know the circuit is over. I take a swig from my water bottle filled with an electrolyte drink. It’s some sort of powder, which makes the water saltier than any flavor they promise, but it’s not too bad.

It tastes better considering this company is one of my newest sponsors. The ending play in the Super Bowl is still paying off in sponsorships and women. Well, now I guess it’s woman. One. My now fake girlfriend.

I wipe the sweat from my forehead and tease, “We’ve done much harder workouts than this.”

“Why the torture today?”

How do I say that the most cardio I’ve done during this off-season was a threesome with two ex-gymnasts? We’re close but not that close.

“I’m just trying to get ready for the season.” I’m also trying to keep myself distracted from the fact that I’m keeping a secret from my sister and I hate that.

Riley slumps down on a yoga mat, spreading her limbs out like a starfish. Her chest rises and falls quickly.

“When’s the next flight?” I ask, trying to distract her from the personal hell she seems to be going through.

“I just flew back from London, so I’m off the next two days. Then I’m on a six-day streak, so I won’t be able to do this again until at least next week.” Her eyes are closed as she speaks. “Which is good, considering I don’t know when I’ll be able to walk again.”

I start to stretch, using my own yoga mat. “Yes! I’m in serious need of Riley’s-tales-of-the-sky.” I clap my hands and rub them together.

Riley is a flight attendant and loves it. The thing I love most about her job are all the ridiculous passenger stories. Last week, they had to remove a man because he wouldn’t stop standing up and reciting his poetry. He seemed mentally sound, especially because he explained to the flight attendants that this was a new attempt at guerilla marketing. Apparently, he’s an indie author and was hoping on loads of press.

I mean, that probably wasn’t worth going on the no-fly list, but what do I know? Maybe being an indie author is harder than I think.

“What’s new with you?” Riley asks as she continues stretching .

What a question. I haven’t had much time to think about what this thing with Emilie means. It’s been a week since she and I basically shook hands on a fake relationship. My brain feels like a tornado, random thoughts just swirling around, crashing into whatever is in its way.

I’ve gone over the interaction a thousand times, and I can’t believe I went all in and invited myself to her sister’s wedding. All in the name of pissing off her ex. Showing him up. All I know is I saw them talking to Emilie and it took one awkward look around from her to know I had to help.

Fuck that guy. Who marries the little sister?

Just then, I get a text message from Kass Blonde Lawyer. All it says is “hi” before she sends a picture of her tits. I’ve never been more thankful that I didn’t open this next to Riley.

“Not much,” I lie, which is much better than, “Well, you see, I’ve decided to start fake dating someone to help make her ex jealous. It requires a passport and social media approval. Also, someone just casually sent me a nude.”

My sister can typically call out a lie before it even falls out of my mouth, but she buys this one. I blame it on the lack of oxygen making it to her brain.

I will tell her, just not right now. Maybe I’ll run it by Emilie, since it’s the first rule she set? I was so nervous about what she was going to propose that I sort of forget about needing to keep Riley in the loop.

She rolls her eyes. “You’re so boring.”

Sure. That’s it.