Even though I’m apparently engaged to him.
“I’m sorry,” he mutters.
“For what?”
He glances over at me. “For using you in my lie.” He balls his fists. “For telling her you’re my fiancée. I shouldn’t have put you in that spot. She just makes me so goddamn angry that it just slipped out.”
I clear my throat. I have a lot of questions, but there’s one that’s sort of pounding in my chest with every beat of my heart. “Who’s Savannah?”
He draws in a long breath, and his eyes meet mine for a beat before he answers. “My ex-wife. Michelle’s apparent new best friend...and a journalist.”
CHAPTER 20
“Well, I think I get why you’re so private now.”
He chuckles mirthlessly, and then he walks through the house and collapses on the couch like the entire encounter with Michelle took more out of him than his morning runs on the treadmill. He draws in a heavy breath. “Savannah is technically a sports reporter, but she found fame reporting on the personal lives of athletes. I was not exempt from that during our marriage, and that’s a big reason why we’re no longer married. Well, that and she’s an insufferable nightmare.”
I laugh as I sit a cushion and a half away from him. “Tell me how you really feel. What did she publish that got your panties all twisted up?”
He glances at me for a beat before he leans back and stares up at the ceiling in contemplation, like he isn’t sure how much to tell me. And then, maybe because he trusts me, maybe because he’s paying me for publicity, or maybe because I’ve made a fool of myself hundreds of times in the short period of time we’ve known each other, he spills some tea.
“She asked me if she could write what she called a tell-all series of articles based on my brother and me.”
“You have a brother?” I ask.
He nods. “Jack Dalton. Current starting quarterback for the Broncos, but he’s also played in Dallas and San Diego, back when the team actually was in San Diego. On his way to the Hall of Fame. God, you really don’t watch football.”
I laugh and hold up a hand. “Sorry. So what did these articles say?”
“I didn’t love the idea, but I wanted her to find success in her career. And she did. Those articles made her career. The first few were great, but then she started to paint this rivalry between us. And there was always a rivalry there, but she made it worse. It became less of a sports report and more of a tabloid exposé.”
“That’s awful,” I murmur, even though I’m insanely curious to find those articles. “So why is Michelle running to her?”
He rolls his eyes. “Attention. Plus I’m sure Savannah will pay her for the gossip, and tomorrow our engagement will be everywhere.”
“Is that why you threatened her with your lawyer?” I ask.
He nods, and then he shrugs. “It’s useless, though. That type of journalism isn’t illegal, even though it should be. Unethical, yes, but not illegal.”
“Well that sucks. So why’d you tell her we’re engaged if you knew she’d run to Savannah?”
“I don’t know,” he mutters. “It just slipped out before I even gave it a second thought. I wanted to hit her with something I knew would hurt her because she hurt me, too.” He glances over at me and shoots me a wry smile. “See? I told you. I’m no prince.”
I let that last comment slip past. “So am I supposed to pretend we’re engaged?”
He rubs the back of his neck. “Maybe?” He tilts his head as he thinks it over, and he shakes his head resolutely. “No. Your brother would kill me.”
“Why not? Would it help get her off your back?”
“I can’t ask you to do that,” he says. “I shouldn’t have said what I said. I put you in an awkward position, and I’m sorry.”
“Why can’t you ask me to do that?” I ask, genuinely curious.
His brows dip down. “You’re young and single and gorgeous. You could have any guy who’s looking for a relationship, and I can’t be the guy who holds you back from finding that. Not when it’s not what I want.”
I roll my eyes, but it doesn’t escape me that he just called me gorgeous.
“What?” he asks.
“Dude, I’m not looking.” I laugh. “Let me spell it out for you. I just got out of a thing, I’m brand new to Vegas, I’m trying to figure out my job situation with my roommate boss. I’m handling enough shit right now, so trust me when I say that hunting for a boyfriend isn’t a priority for me at the moment.”
“But what about your brother? And how long will you fake this with me?” he asks. “Eventually you’ll want to move on.”
And by that point, I’ll have Luke so in love with me that it’ll all just magically fall into place for us.
Right?
Yeah, I doubt it, too.
“We can cross that bridge when we get to it,” I say instead. “And we’ll explain everything to Josh. If he knows it’s fake, he won’t get mad. Right? Besides, he married my best friend. Why can’t I marry his?”
He sighs. “I don’t know, Ellie...”
I reach over and give his forearm a gentle squeeze, ignoring the way just touching his skin with mine lights a fire in my belly. “I saw how awful she was,” I say. “You’re giving me a place to stay and you’re giving me a job. I want to help you, too.”
He presses his lips together as he thinks about it, and then he nods.
“Okay,” he says. “Let’s fake it.” He twists his lips, crinkles his nose, and shrugs, and it’s about the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. I laugh, and we’re both quiet for a beat.
And then I ask softly, “What did she do to hurt you?”
“Aside from the coffee spoon in the sugar bowl?” he quips, and I smirk.
“Yes, aside from that.”
“She’s just...not a nice person. She said things that dug deep when we broke up.”
“Okay, so then we’re definitely engaged.” My brows draw down. “Were you ever engaged to her?”
He shakes his head. “She begged me for a ring. Begged. I can’t even admit some of the things she tried to get me to commit. But I held strong.”
“Because you knew she wasn’t right for you?”
He sits up and shakes his head. “No. Because I don’t plan to ever get married again.”
I feel like I’m getting whiplash here. “But you said we’re engaged...and being engaged usually leads to a wedding...” I’m trailing off my sentences as I try to put the pieces together.
“Right. It’s fake, Ellie. Remember?”
I nod even though I feel a little deflated.
Wait.
I feel...deflated?
Because he just reminded me that he told his ex a lie about being engaged to me?
In what world should that deflate me?
“So what’s the next step, then? A fake wedding?”
His brows dip down a beat, and I wish I knew him well enough to read those facial expressions, but I don’t. Not yet, anyway.