Page 82 of Second Down Fake

Half a million dollars sitting in a savings account and my mom won’t so much as call a plumber. I toyed with the idea of telling Paul about the account, insisting he make my mom use it, but dismissed the idea just as fast. He wouldn’t and worse, Mom would be pissed at me for not dismantling the account when she refused it the first time.

I shuffled through my toiletry bag, pulling out a toothbrush and toothpaste. Mom clearly had an agenda as soon as she met Cassandra, and unfortunately for Cassandra, it mirrored my own.

Of course, I didn’t want to force Cassandra to date me, and the contract she’d signed at the beginning of the season complicated our relationship. But my mom saw things in black and white, and she clearly thought Cassandra and I belonged together.

I couldn’t blame her. Hell, I agreed.

I brushed my teeth and changed before returning to the bedroom. Cassandra sat on the bed, a new yearbook in her lap, and wearing an oversized t-shirt that hung off her shoulder and pooled around her hips, making it impossible to tell if she wore anything underneath.

Fuck, it was going to be a long weekend.

“I can sleep on the couch,” I said for maybe the millionth time. When Mom had mentioned the new gym, I sort of assumed she’d kept the Murphy bed tucked into the wall, but over dinner, she dropped that Cassandra and I would bunk up or I’d be on the couch.

“You know how hard it is for me to sleep, though,” Mom had said at dinner with a sigh, fork grazing over a pile of mashed potatoes. “All those overnight shifts. I just can’t sleep through the night anymore. I get up at least once to watch a show and clean the house a little until I’m tired again.”

“Don’t be silly,” Cassandra said, pulling a pink silk scrunchie from her bag and putting her hair up into a messy bun. “We’ve shared a bed before. Besides, if anyone is getting punted to the couch, it’s me.”

I grinned. “Oh, a sports analogy.”

“Yeah, I’m sort of dating a quarterback…” She ducked her head, cheeks splotched red. “Anyway, with your mom next door, I think we can behave ourselves.”

I winced. “Right. This isn’t Vegas.”

She gave me a curt nod. “Exactly.”

Despite the blue balls I’d be sporting the entire weekend, I didn’t regret bringing Cassandra back home. Sure, I would tomorrow, after the entirety of my hometown gathered in my mom’s backyard, pretending to do anything besides gawk at me.

Prior to joining the NFL, Lone Tree’s most well-known local was a cow who could predict the weather.

“I like your mom.” Cassandra pushed off the bed with her toothbrush and walked to the sink. “She’s a lot like you.”

My chest tightened at a compliment I didn’t get often enough. “She likes you, too. Maybe a little too much.”

Cassandra laughed. “I’m impossible not to like.”

My smile faltered. Impossible not to like. Impossible not to love. Impossible to share a bed without spending the entire night wanting her stripped naked and… I shook my head, dislodging the thought. “Well, save all that charm for tomorrow when you meet the entire town of Lone Tree.”

Despite the new bed, Mom had kept the blue checkered bedspread I’d had since grade school. The thought of Cassandra crawling between those sheets made my chest tight, among other things.

I shucked off my shirt, the heat from Cassandra’s eyes roving down my chest, searing me like a brand.

“What are you doing?” she stammered as I moved our bags off the bed.

“Mom doesn’t have central air, and it’s summer most of the year this far south.” Mom relied solely on window unit air conditioners and good insulation. Spending the night with Cassandra tucked beside me would make me hot enough. I didn’t need to add an extra layer of clothes to the situation.

“Are you trying to impress me or is that what you normally wear to bed?” she asked as she padded to the other side of the bed.

I winked. “Normally, I wear less.”

She rolled her eyes, and I slipped under the covers. The bed sagged under our combined weight. Cassandra rolled into my side, her body soft and warm against my arm, her knee pressing into my thigh. “Well, I guess maintaining our own sides isn’t an option.”

I shifted my arm, wrapping it around her shoulders. “Not worth even trying, really.”

She shifted into the crook of my arm, fingers dancing up my ribcage before settling on my chest. “I never would have made it through the night. I’m a cuddler. I can’t help myself.”

My throat tightened with my grip, pulling her closer. “I suppose I can make this work for a couple of nights.”

“I offered to sleep on the couch.” Her fingertips brushed down my sternum in lazy circles.

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