“I can’t talk now, Zane, and no, I don’t think she’s on board,” I say to him before ending the call.

I sit in the same spot for a long moment, contemplating between going to Gracie or giving her some time to herself.

Another second rolls by and I can’t take the heat anymore, so I get up and hurry past the counter to get into the kitchen. Gracie is standing near the sink when I get there, her head lowered like she’s crying, and I rush to her.

“Gracie…” I whisper, turning her around to look at me. I expect to see tears in her eyes, but they ring clear and her brows snap together in a frown when she lifts her eyes to mine.

“I’m fine,” she whispers. “I just needed a minute to think about how absurd your proposal is,” she continues and I’m relieved to hear her speak calmly and fast, as usual. “You need me? For a while?” she scoffs and folds her arms across her chest. “What for? What do you need that a wife could possibly get you? And why don’t we pretend to be engaged till the frenzy dies? Why do we need a fake marriage?”

I sigh and lower my eyes from hers. “I need my club and my team to think I’ve changed. I need them to see me as someone other than the rude playboy they’re used to. They don’t know me, Gracie…Not as well as you and Jace do. All they see is a selfish, rude prick who doesn’t care about anyone but himself and basketball.”

“And are you?” she challenges, hiking her chin high like she’s going to fight me on this.

“You know me, Gracie. I’m cocky, yes, and even stubborn, but I’m not a bad guy…Not like the media paints me out to be. You know me. I need them to take this seriously and a simple engagement is something I can wriggle myself out of, but marriage…Especially for someone with my reputation amongst the ladies? It’ll be hard to believe and yet so redeemable.”

Gracie’s lower lips quiver as she looks me in the eye for a long time. I can’t tell what she’s thinking, not when her full lashes guard her eyes like this.

“What you’re saying is, you’ve screwed up so bad, and now you need good, innocent Gracie to swoop in and make you look better? Is that it? And why should I help you look good? You’re not exactly the kind of guy who will fool anyone into thinking he’s in love…You don’t even believe in the word…You think it’s a childish tale from a kids' storybook?

“How do you intend to convince your club and everyone else that you’re in love with me?”

Honestly, I think that will be the easiest thing to do. I’ll have better luck convincing people I am in love with Gracie than a shot at scoring the winning goal at the NBA finals.

A game is always one of luck and chance. You go prepared and play your part, but it never guarantees the outcome. But with Gracie, I’ve always known the outcome of wanting her like this, and I try my best to prevent it.

“I think we can pull it off,” I answer, a smile tipping the corners of my lips as I lean into her to prove my point.

“How?” Her voice is a low whisper this time, and the strained lines at the corners of her eyes tighten as I inch closer to her. I have no intentions of kissing Gracie, even though every nerve fiber in me is tempted to taste her lips.

I’ve never allowed myself the luxury of touching her because I know that I’ll never be able to stop.

“All we need to do…All we need to always do is stare into each other’s eyes,” I murmur and lift a hand to stroke her chin because I can allow myself that, at least.

Gracie sucks in a deep breath, and the feel of her warm breath on my face is enough to push me towards the brink.

“Look into your eyes,” she drawls, sighing as my fingers tease her smooth skin. “That’s all we need to do?”

“That’s all we need to do,” I repeat and let my lids flutter close. The door bursts open and stops the reins of my control from snapping.

Jace’s vibrant voice echoes in the air around us and we jerk apart like two teenagers caught with their hands deep in a cookie jar.

***

Thankfully, we sprang apart in time for Jace not to notice anything. Gracie hurries out of the kitchen after greeting her brother. Her flush extends over her face when she hurries away and leaves us to ourselves. I haven’t seen Jace in a long time, not since his last visit to Washington over a year ago.

But we always keep in touch, like brothers.

We shake hands as he laughs, then hug each other. “Good to see you, man,” I say to him as we exit the kitchen together and take a spot in the café.

“Feels good to be back, yeah?” Jace laughs. “I had to make it to town to see you for the weekend. Everyone’s raving about the return of the basketball god.”

There’s never a dull moment when Jace is around, and our friendship of over eighteen years is still going strong. When he looks around and spots his sister stealing glances in our direction, I clear my throat and meet his eyes.

“How did she take it when she saw you the first time?” he asks, eyeing me closely as his smile dwindles. Jace’s question instantly reminds me of the night I turned Gracie down.

My best friend, who knew me better than anyone else, also knew that I could never give his sister the life she deserves.

You know it as well as I do that Gracie likes you. She’s my sister, dude…You mess with her, you mess with me…So don’t even think about it.