Page 26 of Only Between Us

“It’s Siena,” Brooks and I correct in unison.

Our gazes clash, mine more than a little surprised he remembers my disdain for the nickname my ex saddled me with. Let alone that he’d bother to correct someone over it. He’d done the same thing withhis agent at the gym earlier this week. Brooks ducks his chin to focus on a spot on the maroon tablecloth.

Fascinating.

In a bizarre Jekyll and Hyde kind of way.

The man acts like he can’t decide whether to hand me a parachute before pitching me off a cliff.

Jekyll and Hyde is right.

The next hour is an uncomfortable glimpse of the Brooks Attwood I’d met before our fauxmance hit the internet. He manages sincere smiles. Dives right into easy small talk. Seems to personally know every local among the fans, recalling the most obscure details of their lives.

It’s irritating.

A whiplash-inducing experience, seeing as he’s served me only snark and disdain since that picture went viral. Other than fixing my necklace, which I’m not convinced I didn’t imagine.

“Here we go.” Brooks eyes the next fans in line, and his face transforms into another wide grin. “Moment of truth. You ready to really sell this, Pippen?”

Nerves pang in my chest. “What? Why?”

He’s been good about introducing me to fans throughout the event—seeing as it’s the whole point of my attendance. But other than the quick introduction and polite small talk, I’ve been able to slip right into the familiar role ofathlete’s silent and doting girlfriend.

A group of women about Mom’s age approach our table. They don’t even bother pretending to ask for his autograph, seemingly here just to fawn over Brooks. Dating Tom, I got used to the inappropriate flirting and touching from fans. Strangely, that’s not what this is. They’re all staring at Brooks like he’s their personal pride and joy.

Brooks meets a silver-haired woman halfway over the table and plants a quick kiss on her cheek. The interaction feels so second nature I wonder whether she’s his mother, but then, he’d mentioned a few days ago that his family lives across the country.

“Hey, Callie.” He beams at her. “I see you convinced Amber to let you renew those season tickets.”

“Just in time for you to jump ship from the coaching team.” She attempts a stern look, but the adoration is plain in her eyes. “We saw on TV you’ve gotfourteams knocking on your door now.”

Brooks gives a small nod. “I’ve been very lucky. Never thought anyone would be interested after I took so much time away.”

“Oh, we just knew they’d all be dying to snap you up,” another woman says, as the others nod enthusiastically.

Oh my God. Brooks Attwood has made proud aunties out of the women of this town. They’re just short of pinching his cheeks and tucking him into a safe, warm bed. They continue peppering Brooks with praise, and he entertains them all with charming, humble words.

“Are you getting enough to eat, love? You’re looking thinner in the face,” Callie says.

One of the others turns to her. “It’s calledgetting ripped, Cal.”

“What does that mean,getting ripped?”

“It’s to do with exercise.”

Callie turns back to Brooks, completely perplexed. “I can drop off some food if you’d like? A few things you can keep in your freezer. For after all the ripping.”

Beside me, Brooks gives a soft laugh. “Only if you bring over that chorizo lasagna, Cal. Best I’ve ever had—just don’t tell my mom.”

“Of course!” Callie reaches over the table to press a hand to Brooks’s cheek. “Such a sweetheart.”

Okay, screw him, but this really is kind of adorable.

I dig my teeth into my lip. Brooks glances over, gaze flickering tomy mouth, noting the way I’m working hard to stifle a smile. “Have you met Siena?”

No less than ten aunties swing their gazes my way.

My stomach pangs. Make that ten overprotective aunties, all staring me down with varying degrees of skepticism.

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