AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I wrap my hands around my cup, enjoying the calming warmth seeping into my skin. “Right.”
“You can use this to your benefit too. I can come with you to any family gathering you want, put a stop to annoying comments about how you’re still single at twenty-eight.”
“How do you know my age?” I take a sip of tea and place the cup back down on the coaster.
He glances away. “Observant, I guess.”
“Your publicist did a background check on me, huh?”
“Yeah.” He grimaces. “But just think about it. I could accompany you to your friends’ parties, or even work-related events. I could pay you—”
“Hold on,” I cut in, raising my eyebrows. “You think I can be bought like some cheap prostitute?”
"No, of course not. We won’t have sex or anything like that.”
“What exactly would this arrangement entail?” I ask, examining my nails that are clearly in need of a manicure. “Because I have a life, you know. I don’t exactly have time to be your arm candy.”
“It’d just be a few dinners, and maybe you’d come to some of the home games. We don't have to be together all the time. Paps don't follow me around.”
“I’ll think about it.” I sneak a glance at him while sipping my tea. He seems nice enough, and he’s extremely good looking, but my life is complicated enough as it is. I don’t need to add “fake dating a star athlete” to my plate. Especially when I hate being in the spotlight.
He sits up, one leg bouncing slightly. “May I remind you that it was you who put us in this situation. You’re the one who introduced me as your boyfriend. I went along to be nice.”
I open my mouth, then close it. “But I didn’t know who you were, or that the bloody paparazzi would be taking pictures of us! I just wanted to make Karl jealous.”
“I know,” he says, giving me a pointed look. “Did it work?”
“Maybe.” I bite the inside of my cheek. “I don’t think so. I don’t know. He sounded a tad bitter when he said to give you his best yesterday, but honestly, I don’t even think I know the guy anymore.”
“So, it may be working. It’s worth a shot.”
I recline against the backrest and close my eyes, massaging my temples. He’s got a point. Even if there’s only a slight chance, it might spite Karl. Plus, Wade is hot, and he’s a good kisser. Bonus points there.
He runs his hand through his hair again, and a light bulb goes off in my head. I rake his body with my eyes. This guy actually has some sense of style. He’s wearing a black shirt under a black leather jacket, which I’m pretty sure is straight off Armani’s fall runway, and his dark-grey jeans hug his long, muscular legs nicely.
“Have you ever modelled before?”
He shakes his head in confusion, frowning. “What?”
“Have you? For magazines, commercials?”
He scratches his jaw. “Yeah, a few times.”
“Do you have a stylist?”
“I don’t.”
“So, you choose your own outfits.”
“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Why, don’t you?”
“Are you into fashion at all?”
“I guess, yeah. Do I look like a twit or something?” he asks, glancing down at his outfit.
“Just the opposite.” I crack a smile. “I have an idea. As you probably already know from your little background check, I’m a journalist for Fashion Warehouse. Every year, there’s a contest among the magazine’s writers. We choose someone to interview for a lifestyle piece, and the board chooses the best of the bunch. The winning interview becomes the main article featured in the September issue—the most prestigious one—and the writer gets a promotion. I’ve never won before, but maybe—”
He claps his hands loudly. “Done. I'll do it. No problem.”
