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“Do you date a lot?”
“Not really.” I sigh, glancing away and blinking back moisture. The mix of wine, heat, and the reminder that I’m on this fake date instead of a real one with Wade hit me at once. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. “I—we had this thing, Karl and me—my friend from the airport—before he left for a ten-month-long work stint in Asia. We’d been friends forever, and before he left, we, em, connected. I thought it was his absence that was keeping us apart, but apparently, he wasn’t into me like that.” Saying the words out loud makes me feel like I just crumbled below a tonne of bricks.
His eyes soften. “That’s rubbish. I’m sorry.”
I shake my head. “Ah, it’s all right. I don’t need a man, anyway,” I say, trying to convince myself more than anything else. “I need to focus on my career. Getting that promotion is all I think about now, and with you on the cover, I actually have a shot this time.”
He raises his glass of water. “I’ll drink to that.”
6
A Fake Rebound Still Counts
Wade
As always, the food at this place is delicious, and Roxy and I are having a brilliant time. At least, I assume she is judging by the way her eyes are lighting up. Who knew a first date could be so fun? I don’t have much experience in that department, but from what I’ve heard, it’s supposed to be quite awkward.
“So, what do you like to do besides play football?” Roxy asks between bites of salmon.
“Football is pretty much my whole world. But I like to spend time with my brother’s family whenever I have the time. Sometimes, I’ll do some shopping, or just chill at home. I’m a low-key lad.”
“Really? I assumed footballers were all jet setters. Partying in Ibiza or Dubai. Eating lunch in Milan and dinner in Paris.”
I roll my pasta around my fork and cough out a laugh. “Geez. Maybe some, but not me. My primary focus is sport. Maybe when I retire. But right now, I like the simple life.”
She puts her fork down, licking her lips in a quick movement that leaves me yearning for more. “Dang. I was really hoping to dine atop the Eiffel Tower.” She shakes her head, laughter teasing her eyes. Her voice drops to a whisper. “Of all the footballers to fake date, I had to get the one who likes the simple life.”
“Yup. Don’t get your heart set on that Eiffel Tower thing. Not gonna happen,” I joke, tearing my eyes away. “What do you like to do in your free time?”
“Well, I was going to say lounging on a sunbed in Dubai, but that’s out of the question now.” She closes her eyes and shakes her head dramatically. “Other than that, I guess the same as you—chilling, shopping, hanging out with friends or family.”
“Great. That’ll make things easier for our future dates.”
“Yeah, but a word of advice, don’t take me shopping. You’ll regret it.” She giggles, drinking the last of her wine.
I don’t think I’d regret doing anything with Roxy, but I’ll humour her. “Duly noted. We’ll stick to going out, then. And we agreed on training together.” I’ve never trained with anyone other than my teammates, but I have a feeling working out with Roxy would be a lot of fun. Besides, I wouldn’t mind seeing her in one of those tight yoga bottoms.
“Don’t remind me,” she groans. “I won’t do four or six hours, but I can be there for moral support.”
I chuckle. “Don’t worry. I won’t do a full routine with you there. When are you free next week?”
“I work from nine to six, so either before or after. Or on the weekend.”
“I have a game on Monday. How about Wednesday morning? We could start at six-thirty, if it’s not too early? That way we can train until eight, and then you can get changed and go to work. There’s a gym close to my place. The paps are often lingering around, and Ashley will make sure they show up. I’ll drive you to work afterwards.”
She grins. “Sure, sounds good.”
“Splendid. It’s a date,” I say, finishing my water. “Do you want dessert?”
“Honestly, I’m so full I couldn’t,” she says with a laugh. And I love that. It’s refreshing to see a girl finish her meal. “But don’t mind me. Order one if you want.”
“Oh no. I avoid sugar during the season. I guess we can get going, then . . .” I wish we could stay a little longer, but I remind myself it’s not a real date. This is a business arrangement, and I’m sure she’s eager to get out of here. Better not make her sick of me right from the start.
“I’ll go freshen up a bit,” she says, standing up. My eyes travel to the curves of her body as she meanders toward the loos. Damn, she’s gorgeous. Every girl I’ve spent a night with was paper thin, but I’m rethinking my beauty standards now. Roxy’s body is perfection. It’s real, feminine, generous. Full of life.
Spotting the waiter, I gesture for him to bring the bill. He’s back within minutes, and I’m still paying for the meal when Roxy returns and flashes a bright smile. She reapplied some of that red lipstick. Something melts inside of me, and my heart starts rattling in its cage. There’s something about the way she smiles. Her perfect lips combined with the soft twinkle in her aquamarine eyes is like a precious gift. Addictive.
I finally recall my card’s pin, and the waiter gives me my receipt.
