Page 21 of Only Between Us

Come on, baby. Could someone so pretty ever sting you that bad?

Yes, she could.

“That guy’s a total prick, by the way.” Siena nods toward the exit, presumably meaning Josh. “I can see why you get along.”

Behind me, I hear the distinct sound of Parker’s chuckle. Siena fights her own laugh, and I’m glad everyone is so entertained at my expense. Meanwhile, I’m still standing here dumbstruck. “How much of that did you hear?”

“All of it. Frankly, I was hoping he’d get around to telling us how many kids we’re about to have. I’m dying to know.”

“Please tell me that means we’re doing this.”

Siena blows out a long breath, then shoots Parker a tight smile before settling her attention back on me. “Yeah, Football Daddy. We’re doing this.”

Chapter7Siena

We’ve been sitting in awkward silence for the past few minutes, just staring at the field. Losing his friend’s company—a buffer, fleeting as it had been—has left us to examine the cold hard facts of our short acquaintance:

I think he’s an arrogant jerk.

He thinks I’m a gold-digging jersey chaser.

But if we’ve got any hope of convincing anyone we’ve been secretly dating for nine months, we’re going to have to figure out how to get past all that. Or at least learn to fake it.

“What changed your mind about dating me?” The wind catches in my ponytail, and he watches the dark strands billow off my shoulder.

“Fake-dating you.” I smooth back the wisps of hair fluttering around my face. “You caught me red-handed, Attwood. I’m in it for the money, just like you predicted.”

“Of fucking course.” He sighs sharply, staring out at the field. “How much do you want?”

God, he’s so fucking insufferable.

“I’m not askingyoufor money. I’m asking to be seen with youlooking happily in love. It turns out dating you fetches a pretty penny on the social media market.”

Brooks rubs his face. “Yeah. I’m well aware.”

The words send a rush of anger through me. “Do I really have to point out that, once you get signed to the Rebels, you’ll get far more money out of fake-datingmethan I’ll ever see out of you? What are you looking at, Attwood? Twenty million a year? Thirty?”

“It’s not about money for me. It’s about playing with the team I grew up with. It’s also closer to my hometown.”

“And you’ll be moving closer to your hometown with your multimillion-dollar bank account, to play on a multimillion-dollar contract. You’ll forgive me for needing a bit of money to keep myself afloat.”

I pin him with a look, daring him to counter the argument. Fortunately, he doesn’t. He looks… appropriately humbled.

Good.

Brooks wipes his palms up and down the front of his shorts. “What do you need the money for?”

“Pretty clothes and shiny shoes.” No way am I getting all touchy-feely with this guy. “Look, this is less than ideal. We’re clearly incompatible. And as much as I’d like to do us both a favor and vanish from your life, we need each other. I don’t know about you, but I really—really—need this to work.”

If it doesn’t, I’ll be homeless and carless. And we’ll cut the shop’s seasonal earnings in half without that refrigeration system. Already, I’ve had to halve this week’s stock of bait without anywhere to store it.

“So we ride each other’s coattails until I get signed,” Brooks says. “Break up once I move away.”

“Perfect.”

He sucks in a long breath, looking anywhere but at me. “I’m hosting the annual alumni game here this weekend. It’s probably a good place to start.”

I bob my head. “And we make sure to give the crowd something to talk about. Something worth posting online.”

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