Page 19 of The Brickwall and the Bombshell

“Sophie’s just overprotective. It’s not that big of a deal.”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I watch her from my peripheral. She’s beautiful. Her features are so soft and subtle. The gentle slopes of her nose and lips beg to be touched. And, fuck, she smells good. It’s also not lost on me that, while I’m taller than her, it’s not by much. At five-eleven, I’m one of the shorter players on the team, and when Greer is in those fuck-me heels she likes to wear, she’s just barely shorter than me.

It’s no surprise that someone is stalking her. It doesn’t make it right, but the fact she’s a fucking bombshell and in the public eye, makes it a recipe for disaster because there are some horrible, fucked up people in the world.

“I have three extra bedrooms,” I blurt out before I even have a chance to filter my thoughts. “I used to have roommates, but they moved out. And I’m sure you think of my house as the team bachelor pad, but it’s not like that anymore, I swear. It’s quiet. And best of all, it’s secure.”

Greer doesn’t even acknowledge my words for at least a full minute. Her gaze is still trained on the world spinning outside the large window. For a second, I think she’s gone into some sort of trance, but then she laughs softly.

“The last thing you need is me cramping your style.”

“You won’t,” I say, again without thinking. “I mean, I have no style.” Palming my face, I let out a low chuckle. Leave it to me to fuck up a simple offer.

“You said it, not me.”

I’ll have her know I have a shit ton of style… so much style it’s oozing from my pores. But I don’t say that. This isn't the time for sparring with Greer, even though I do really love getting under her skin.

“Thank you for the offer, but I’m fine,” she says with a little more confidence than I’ve heard her use since Owen and I walked up on her and Sophie’s conversation. “I’m going to turn the emails and note over to my boss tomorrow at work. I’m sure there’s something they can do—track the IP address of the email or maybe they can pull some footage from the cameras in our parking lot.”

“What about what you heard last night at your apartment?” I ask. For a reason I don’t understand, I’m fully invested in her safety. I’ve always respected women and their autonomy, but I also grew up protecting those I was closest to, especially my mother. So, I guess my desire to protect Greer is innate.

I need her to be safe.

“If they’re crossing that line, there’s no telling what else they’re willing to do.” I don’t want to scare her even more than she is, but I also want her to take this seriously and not be naïve.

“That was probably my imagination. I’ve kind of let it run wild lately.”

Exhaling through my nose, I clench my jaw and turn to face her. “Don’t be stupid, okay? And I’m not saying that to piss you off, but I can tell you’re someone who thinks they can take care of themself and I’m sure you can, but if this is some sicko motherfucker who has an obsession or something, there’s no telling what they’re capable of.”

She lets out a laugh, crossing her arms over her chest. “Thanks a lot, Granger. You really know how to make a girl feel better. I can see why you’re Baseball’s Most Eligible Bachelor… oh, wait, that wasn’t the title they gave you. What was it?” She taps her full bottom lip, making my mind wander to things I’d like to do to her sassy mouth. “Big League’s Biggest Player, that’s more like it. No, thank you. I’ll take my chances with the stalker.”

When she mentions the title the gossip blogs have given me, my mind starts turning. I can’t help the way my lips curve up into a smirk. She’s so damn sexy, especially when she’s pissed. She’s also deflecting, throwing my bullshit in my face in hopes I won’t pay attention to hers.

You can’t bullshit a bullshitter, Greer.

“This could be mutually beneficial,” I start, a plan forming in my mind.

Her eyes narrow and her nostrils flare. “Oh, no,” she starts, shaking her head, but I take a step forward, my toes almost coming in contact with the point of her shoes.

Before she can open her mouth, I cut her off at the detour, placing my finger up to her lips, and trying desperately to ignore how soft they feel against my fingertip.

Plump.

Pouty.

Perfect for wrapping around my—

Fuck, Mack. Hold it together.

“I’m not talking about sex.”Just standing here fantasizing about it.“I realize you think I’m a total douchebag, but despite what your opinions are of me, I’m actually not a sleazeball. I don’t proposition women. We have consenting sex with no misconceptions. But that is not what I’m proposing to you.”

She rolls her eyes and turns to look out the window again, but when she doesn’t say anything, I continue.

“I need someone to date me,” I say, ripping the Band-Aid off. “My agent thinks I need to clean up my reputation, make it more wholesome, so I can get the endorsements I want.”

Her head swivels back to me, eyes widening. “You want me to… date you?” she asks, confusion laced in her words.

“Pretend,” I insert. “Pretend to date me. It would just require you to attend games, which you already do because you’re… well, you. We’d also need to make appearances at a few charity events that are coming up and be seen around town when I’m home. Six months, tops. And then…”

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