“If you want me to take down the curtains, move the plants, and put my blanket in my room, I can. I was reading on the couch last night and left it there. Sorry.”
She floats around my kitchen pulling out eggs and bacon from the fridge, including a mixture of fruit I put together the other night. Taking my mug out from under the coffee machine, she hands it to me, offering her brightest smile as if I didn’t just wake her up by yelling at her. “Good morning, by the way.”
“You’re awfully cheery for someone who claims not to be a morning person.”
“Well, if I let a bad mood take over every time you annoy me in the morning, I’m never going to be happy again.” She turns back, cracking a few eggs into a pan while stretching bacon out onto another.
Taking a seat at the kitchen island, I adjust myself, trying to push the needy erection away as I watch her. “I thought you were a vegetarian.”
“I am. But you’re not, and I’m making you breakfast.”
“You don’t have to do that. I woke you up by yelling at you.” I scrub a palm over my face. “I can take care of myself.”
“I’m sure you can. But I like taking care of people. It’s kind of my thing.” She smiles at me over her shoulder.
Fuck, she’s pretty.
I sit in silence, drinking my coffee while she cooks. Truthfully, I wanted to be the one to cook her breakfast again. It seemed to impress her last time, and I got off on seeing her happily eat my food.
“Your curtains can stay. And the plants and your pillows and blanket. But you’ve got to get your naked men off my bookshelf.”
Her back vibrates with a laugh. “Deal. Although, you could learn a thing or two from my book boyfriends. You do have that broody, mysterious thing going for you already though.”
“And that devastatingly handsome thing,” I add for her.
She places my breakfast in front of me, a knowing smile pulling at her lips. “You’re all right, I guess.”
Indy takes the seat next to me, and I’m not going to lie, this is nice. Sharing a meal with her, spending a morning together. Of course, I’d probably feel this way if it were anyone, but I’ll admit it’s nice to come home to someone for once.
“Speaking of boyfriends…” I begin with caution.
“Please tell me you straightened that out with your GM.”
“Not exactly.”
“Ryan!” She cocks her head in disappointment and the eye roll she gives me is pretty fucking adorable.
“He brought you up three separate times while we were gone. It’s like he was testing me to see if it’s real.”
“Because it’s not!” Indy hides her face in her palms. “This is a terrible idea. It’s going to be ten times worse when he finds out you were lying to him later.”
“He’s not going to find out.”
“Oh, he’s not?” She laughs condescendingly. “He’s going to take one look at us together and know it’s a lie.”
“I’m good at putting on an act in public. Please, Blue. Help me out here.”
She pops a strawberry in her mouth and my attention falls on those pink lips. “For someone who likes to have control, it does sound awfully nice when you beg.”
I shoot her a pointed glance.
“Can’t you find someone else to be your fake girlfriend or here’s a thought, get a real one!”
“I don’t trust anyone, and I don’t date. And don’t even suggest I fake it while letting some poor girl believe it’s real. I can’t lead anyone on like that. But I’m not leading you on because this”—I motion between us—“will never be like that.”
“Well, that’s one way to make it clear.” She pulls her attention away from mine. “I can’t. I’m working.”
“You’re home for the fall banquet. All of Chicago’s teams are home.”
“I got a second job. I need to work that night.”
“A second job? Doing what?”
“Rideshare. It works perfectly with my flight schedule. I can work when I’m home.”
“Indy, no…that’s…that could be dangerous.”
“It’s fine.” She rolls her eyes. “I need the extra cash and I get to talk to people in my car all night. That sounds like a dream come true to me.”
I can’t get into all the reasons I think this is a terrible idea right now, so instead I offer, “I’ll pay you whatever you’d make that night.”
She scoffs. “I’m not letting you pay me to be your date. I’m not an escort. Jesus.” She stands from her stool, leaving me.
Shit. Clearly the wrong thing to offer.
Circling her wrist, I stop her, softening my tone. “What can I do?”
“Nothing. It’s not that I don’t want to help you, but I can’t. Besides needing to work, you’re famous, Ryan. Like really fucking famous.”
“And you’re worried about making headlines.” Of course, she is. She saw what my sister went through last year.
“No. Not at all, actually. I think that’d be fun, but I just got out of a six-year relationship. If he finds out—”
“Good. Let him think we’re together. Fuck that guy.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
A moment of silence lingers before her eyes drop to my hand encasing her wrist. She doesn’t move for a moment, and I find myself using all my restraint to keep from circling the pad of my thumb against the soft skin of the inside.
She pulls away, and regret instantly floods me. What the fuck am I doing?
“I’m in my friends’ wedding coming up and so is he.” She takes a save-the-date card off the refrigerator, sliding it across the island. “I need to focus on finding a real date to this thing, not being someone’s pretend girlfriend. I can’t exactly be pictured with you for one night then take a random guy to this wedding. Anyone else will be a downgrade from NBA superstar Ryan Shay.”
I hold a hand over my chest. “Blue, you flatter me.”
“I’m serious, Ryan. I already feel like the laughingstock of my friends right now.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Nothing.” She shakes it off, replacing the card on the fridge. “Look, I’m so fucked up from Alex, that I can’t even think about being in another relationship right now or maybe ever, and I don’t know that I’d be able to fake that. I’m sorry, I can’t help you.”
I don’t know what causes me to say it. Maybe it’s the downturn of her lips or her sad brown eyes that I’m afraid will start watering soon. Or maybe it’s the thought of her ex assuming he’s come out victorious, but it slips out of my mouth before I have time to fully think this through. “When’s the wedding?”
“Why?” Suspicion laces her tone.
“Just answer the question.”
“February second.”
Pulling out my phone, I check my schedule. No games, home or away. I have practice, but I can get out of it.
“I’ll be your date for the wedding.”
She pauses before breaking into laughter, and it's deep and uncontrollable, coming from her core.
“What’s so funny?”
“You.” She sucks in a deep breath. “That was hilarious.”
I wait for her to calm the fuck down. “I’m not joking.”