Page 6 of Second Down Fake

He sighed, his lips tugging up in a wry grin. “So, what are you doing here, Cassandra?”

I’d forgotten how much I liked my name on his lips. I’d been called Cassie since birth and before Diego, people only pulled out Cassandra when I’d gotten in trouble. But Cassandra rolled off Diego’s tongue like honey. Like a warm hug. Like a morning in bed.

“Um...” I tucked my hands in my pockets. “I’m actually moving to Norwalk for a bit. I’m helping Becca pack and then taking over her apartment for the next couple of months.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“And were you going to tell me if we didn’t run into each other?”

“I’m honestly surprised you remember me at all.”

“Of course I remember you.” His voice dropped an octave, eyes fixed on mine.

No wonder his face was plastered on every magazine in the Northern hemisphere. How could you not look into those eyes and feel anything but the center of his world?

Feel.

I stressed the word to myself. Not that Diego had done anything besides provide a fun night of distraction, but I’d read the papers. He was a player. A charming one, sure, but a player.

“I’m flattered. Truly. I’ve made out with the guy who made out with Delaney Grimms, Eve Craft, and Zoey Meyer.” His lips flattened at the last name, and I regretted talking about his most recent ex.

“Yeah. Well, you’re the only one in that group still on speaking terms with me.” He shrugged, but the tension in his shoulders returned. “I’m assuming you already know about the whole Zoey thing?”

“‘Finally free?’” I grimaced. “What was that about?”

“It was directed at your sister. A teammate’s idea of a joke.”

Any other person and I would have assumed the excuse was a flat out lie. But Diego wasn’t a good liar. The mix of shame and embarrassment on his face gave the words a ring of truth.

“Oh,” I sucked my teeth. “Wow. Bad choice of words.”

“My teammate is a moron, and I’m a moron for giving him my phone,” he said with a self-deprecating laugh. An “aw shucks” laugh that made me forget that this was Diego Salazar, multi-million dollar NFL quarterback. He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes jetting to his car and back to me. “Let me get your number.”

“No offense, Diego.” I scanned the garage, lowering my voice. “According to the press, you’re a real awful boyfriend.”

“No,” he laughed, and I hated myself for feeling disappointed at how easily he dismissed the idea. “I meant to show you around, seeing as you’re new in town. It’s the least I can do for Becca’s little sister.”

I hated how he said that even more. Becca’s little sister. I loved my sister. I didn’t like her shadow.

“Wasn’t I a perfect gentleman the last time we hung out?” He dipped his shoulder, bouncing it off mine with a grin.

“You were something.” Charming. Irresistible. Fun. Too much fun. I couldn’t admit any of that. Not in an empty parking lot to a guy I hadn’t seen anywhere but the TV for over five years. I sighed loudly, pursing my lips as if considering the offer before I said yes. “I guess I could use a tour guide.”

THREE

DIEGO

I’d done a lot of dumb things over the years.

Took a third-string position at a top-tier college football program with the understanding I probably wouldn’t get my shot at the field, signed with a brand-new NFL team for a fraction of what I would have made with a more established team just to get a starting position, and this afternoon, I asked for my trainer’s little sister’s number. Five years after I’d asked for it the first time.

But all those other decisions had worked out in my favor, and considering this time, Cassandra said yes, this one might too.

With pre-season right around the corner, I’d have my hands full soon enough. But between seasons, I struggled. Anything more than a weekend in Mississippi, and mom and I would be at each other’s throats, her husband desperate to keep the peace. And while I loved to travel, most of my teammates only wanted to spend a week or two overseas before tapping out for their friends and family back home. Trent was the only guy as aimless as me over the off season, and look at how that turned out.

Cassandra provided a very necessary distraction. One I didn’t dwell on long when I saw my mom’s name pop up on my phone.

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