And then I glance over and see how excited he is about this whole charity idea. He can’t wait to start raising money to ensure every kid has a fair shot to play sports, that they won’t get left behind just because they can’t afford the team uniform...that they have a sufficient place to practice and play.
My heart pitter patters.
My stomach flips.
Oh shit.
I knew it was happening.
I could feel it coming, and there was little I could do to stop it.
It’s as we sit in this meeting with Erin, excitement lighting his face and passion burning in his eyes that I realize something. That feeling in the pit of my stomach is the low burn of fire as my body tried to warn me. Stop! Alert! Stop!
But it’s too late. I went and fell for him, and now I’m pretending to be engaged to him while privately he keeps pushing me away.
I’ve gotten myself into quite the jam.
He transitions into a bundle of nerves as the clock ticks closer and closer to nine-thirty, and then he excuses himself to meet with Calvin while Erin and I work out some more details on our own.
I’m dying to ask him about the meeting once he returns a half hour later, but I don’t get the chance, and this isn’t the place for him to talk about it, anyway.
Instead, we head to the gym. That fire in my stomach only burns hotter as I take pictures of him working out with the Aces’ newest team member.
And it’s not until a few hours later as he signals his way onto the highway that I finally ask the question that has been burning in my mind since ten this morning. “How was your meeting with Calvin?”
He clears his throat. “Not great.”
“What did he say?”
“He ripped me a new one for knocking up Michelle, and then I had to explain how I’m not the right man for her but I’ll be there for her and the baby every step of the way.” He’s quiet and flat as he speaks, and I can tell the conversation did a number on him even though the workout must’ve helped him categorize his feelings. “He also reminded me more than once that I’m not the only wide receiver in the league.”
“That’s awful,” I say, reaching over to squeeze his hand.
But I don’t get it. Why does Calvin care what Luke does on his own time?
He presses his lips together and keeps his eyes focused forward on the road. “He’s right, though. I’m not. I’m easily replaceable, and that’s why I need you.” He pauses, and my heart races. He needs me. Except then he adds, “It’s why I need your help with both my image and my brand to make me someone who isn’t so easily replaced.” His words are a reminder that this is nothing more than a business deal to him...even though it’s more than that to me. “He asked me how I’m going to make things right with Michelle. I told him I’m engaged to somebody else now. I hope you’re still okay with pretending with me for a while.”
I’m still okay with it even if I don’t really get why Calvin is so invested.
I just find myself wishing more and more that it wasn’t pretend.
CHAPTER 8
After my shower the next morning, I head down to the kitchen with my laptop and grab some coffee before I get to work. I slide onto one of the stools at the counter and I’m munching on a banana when Luke walks in.
“I have something for you,” he says.
I glance away from my screen and over at him, my brows dipped down. “What is it?”
“Come with me.”
I abandon my laptop and toss the banana peel in the trash. We walk through the house, and he stops at a closed door. It’s the office where my boxes have been stacked since the movers dropped them off.
Maybe this is his way of telling me to move my boxes or unpack my shit or just get the hell out because it isn’t working for him.
“Open the door,” he says softly.
My heart pounds as I do it, and I gasp as I look around.
Gone is the dark wood, replaced with a fresh and completely opposite look. A huge, white desk sits in the middle of the room with a very comfortable looking white chair. Two white chairs sit opposite the desk. Empty white bookshelves line one wall, and floor to ceiling windows give me a gorgeous view into his backyard.
In the center of the room is a fluffy purple rug.
The desk is filled with office accessories.
They’re all glittery purple.
A large purple couch sits on the wall across the room from the desk, a place where I can relax and create.
Hanging on the walls I see all sorts of artwork with phrases like hustle and lady boss and grind in glitter. Another one says work work work, and another says I’m not bossy with its twin photo hanging next to it that reads I’m the boss.
It’s all purple and white with silver sparkles, and the boxes that were stacked along the wall are gone.
“This is for me?” I ask.
Tears fill my eyes as I look at Luke, who looks proud of himself. He nods with that lady killer grin of his.
I move toward the fluffy purple rug and spin in a circle. The fabric is soft on my feet. “When did you do all this?”
“I’ve been at it a while. Everything was delivered while we were at the ball and I’ve worked on it the last couple days with Debbie’s help.”
“But you asked me my favorite color the other day...” I trail off.
He chuckles. “Like I didn’t already know. Ellie, your phone is purple. So is your suitcase and most of your clothes.”
“And all the glitter?”
“I don’t think you’ve gone a single day without wearing something that sparkles, whether it’s your watch band or your shirt or your bright smile.”
I melt into a pile of lust for him as my knees feel a little weak. “You noticed all that?”
One side of his mouth lifts. “Of course I did,” he says softly.
I can’t help when I automatically move toward him and toss my arms around his neck. I want to kiss him. Every urge inside me is telling me to kiss him.
And I do...but I go for his cheek, and then I untangle myself from him. I walk over to the desk and open one of the drawers. A bunch of my bullet journal stuff is in there, all organized neatly. “Thank you. This is incredible.”
“I figured if you’re going to be here working for me, you deserve to have your own space. Even if it’s just temporary. I’m sure you love the kitchen counter, but that ergonomic chair will be a little easier on your back than the barstool.”
“This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me,” I say softly.
We stare at each other as heat passes between us.
He’s agile and athletic, his black shirt clinging to his broad chest and his charcoal shorts making his legs look lean and muscled. His eyes are on me, and he almost looks a little nervous.
“Can we, uh, talk a second?” he asks, and a dart of anxiety rushes through my chest as I wonder whether the gift of this office is about to be tainted by this conversation.
“Of course,” I say, and neither of us moves from where we stand.
“I know we haven’t exactly figured out the logistics of our fake engagement, but between running into Savannah at the ball and my conversation with Calvin...I feel like we need to push forward with this idea if you’re still okay with it.”