Page 71 of Unleashed

Thankfully, Sylvie sits the hell back but digs her fingers into my shoulder. “Oh, my God. Please don’t say it’s Grant.”

Simone squeals, “Eww! Hell, no!”

Sylvie frowns. “He’s not that bad.” Can’t she make up her fucking mind about the prick?

Hadley hides her smile behind her hand while Nico watches people on the dance floor.

Sighing and turning toward Sylvie, she notices her draped over me and frowns. Yeah, like it’d bother Simone if I were with another woman. Simone says, “Your hands are all over him.”

Sylvie’s eyes bulge. “Rod?” She looks at my face, almost horrified. Does Sylvie think so little of me she deems me unworthy of being a fake husband? “Is that true?”

Not having the energy for this conversation, I nod. Rhonda drops her gaze from me when I look at her.

Simone says, “We got married for real in North Carolina since my dad would verify the marriage. Not long afterward, we annulled the marriage. My dad doesn’t know.”

Feeling horrendous about dumping this on Rhonda, I say, “But we’ll set the record straight with the team once he leaves. Then everything goes back to normal. Because of Betsy and Patrice, we can’t tell them our marriage isn’t real, or they’ll blab.”

Sylvie groans. “Betsy is the worst kind of bitch.” That’s the first thing Sylvie has said that I like.

Hadley asks, “Do you think he’ll figure it out? He could check again.”

Simone drains her margarita and clears her throat, setting down the glass. “Possibly, and he’s coming to softball practice tomorrow. He may question my friends. I need you to back me up. I’m married.”

Nico motions toward me, somewhat sympathetic. “To Greg! He’s involved in this. Remember?”

Simone sighs. “But it’s temporary. We have to convince my father for a year. That’s all.”

Hadley shakes her head, and I fear what she’ll say. “What if he finds out you changed your name to Simpson?”

“That’s the snag. If Betsy tells him, it’s over because he knows that’s Jack’s last name. So, if Betsy mentions it, I just haven’t changed my name to Rodwell yet.” Christ, this sucks ass. “If he questions any of you, tell him you were at the courthouse for our wedding.”

Sylvie squints at Simone as she reaches for her third margarita from our questionable server, who could be an undercover cop trying to bust underaged people while looking like a high-schooler herself. Alanis could’ve whined about that irony instead of the crap she spewed.

Sylvie sighs. “You’re a lucky girl, Simone.” I cringe as Simone chugs more of her drink, flicking her free fingers on the table like Wilder. It still gives me the skeeves that she’s blood-related to that fucker. My kid would’ve been his niece or nephew. But I hope he wouldn’t have turned his back on my kid like Hadley’s brother did to Finley.

I chug my beer until it’s almost gone. Ferrera asks, “Do you have to wear wedding rings?”

Setting down my bottle, I reach into my pocket to twirl the silver ring between my fingers. Since Simone doesn’t answer, I mutter, “We’re supposed to.”

I look at Simone as her throat bobs, like this stresses her out. She says, “I’ll make an excuse not to wear one.” Goddamn. Nico shakes his head and mumbles something. I frown at him as I push the ring deeper into my pocket. “Problem there, Ferrera?”

He laughs, shooting a confused glance at both of us. “You two are the furthest thing from a married couple one could imagine. You don’t look at each other, and all you do is argue. Try harder to be convincing. He can’t be stupid. I think you’re way out of your league with this.”

Simone throws out her arms, close to smacking me in the face. “What the fuck am I supposed to do, Nico?”

He looks around the table and then back to Simone. “Act like you’re in love with Greg. I’m pretty sure you’re doing it wrong.”

Simone shrugs. “This time, Rod dragged me into it. I wanted to tell my dad the truth.”

I scoff and turn toward her, with Sylvie looking over my shoulder. “I was the one who first helped you with this plan. Remember? I’m seeing it through. And now, you’re gonna blow it. If you lose your tuition, it’s your fault. I kept my end of the deal.”

Ferrera sits back, crossing his arms and grinning. “Come on, Simone. Greg’s balls are in your court.”

We all stare at Simone until she growls and pounds her fist on the table, making our glasses jump. “Not happening!” She then shoves out her chair and stands. “Hadley, Sylvie, Rhonda, let’s dance.”

Rhonda declines with a headshake, appearing sick or certain she should’ve stayed home. When they leave, I breathe a sigh of relief and lean on my arms on the table. “What’s up, Rhonda? Aren’t you dancing tonight?”

She frowns. “Right.” When Rhonda checks her phone, Nico asks, “You sure? You got all dressed up and look pretty.”

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