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Rent-free?I wanted to jump on his offer, to just say yes. Good thing I wasn’t as naïve as I used to be. He was a man. A stranger. I couldn’t trust him. I’d learned that lesson far too well.
He hadn’t moved from the bed, but I didn’t buy the way he’d done that to appear less intimidating. I knew his impressive stats—and that ESPN loved every inch of his six-foot-three and hundred eighty-five pounds of pure muscle. According to them, so would the upcoming draft. Kylian Wilder was going places. None that included me.So, where do I fit in?
“What’s the catch?” I couldn’t help it. I bit—out of stupid curiosity and, the real driving factor, pure desperation.
“I have a few questions before I explain my proposition.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
The movement put him closer. My stupid heart rate kicked into a gallop, and I fought the urge to retreat a step. He took up too much damn space as it was. A weird energy crackled between us—nothing I wanted to look into. He was a reminder of temptation that I wouldn’t give into. I couldn’t afford to fall from such heights again.
“Is there a warrant out for your arrest?”
Fair question. “No.”
“How old are you?”
“I’m not underage.”Where is he going with this?
“You look young. I’m not sure I believe you. I’ll want to see a driver’s license.” He scanned my body. “For now, tell me your age.”
Fine.“Twenty-one.”
“What’s your full legal name?”
“Why?” I wasn’t comfortable with that territory. “What will you do if I tell you?”
“If you aren’t wanted by the police, it’s a fair question.”
Maybe.Can I trust him?As badly as things could have gone with him finding me, nothing had happened. And I didn’t sense malicious vibes. His confidence and authority—not the bad kind that I was used to—eased some of my fear. I opened my mouth to tell him. Nothing came out. I couldn’t do it. “Tell me why first. I don’t know you, and I have no reason to trust you.”
He studied me, and a shiver raced through my already-alert body. He looked at me as if he could see all my carefully guarded secrets, and I didn’t want him inside.
“I want you to pretend to be my girlfriend then my wife.”
“What?” That came out a little louder than I’d expected. Still… “Your wife?” A bitter laugh fell from my lips. “QB1, you’re out of your ever-lovin’ mind if you think I’ll pretend to be your wife.” I stepped forward then caught myself. He was crazy, and I needed to keep my wits about me—and distance between us.
“Let me clarify.” He straightened, pushing his elbows off his knees, but stayed seated. “I don’t want you to pretend. I want to present you to my mom as my girlfriend, then I’ll fake propose. We’ll get married and stay together for as long as my mom lives.”
I snapped my mouth closed. I hadn’t realized it was hanging open. “What’s wrong with you?”For real, though, what’s wrongwith him that he would need me—a stranger—to marry him?“The answer is no.”
“We can help each other.” He paused, and something warred through his eyes before he seemed to reach a decision. “My mom is sick, and I don’t know how long she has left. Her biggest wish is to see me married. It’ll take me years to find someone else, date, and marry them. I don’t have that kind of time.”
“I’m sorry about your mom, but that’s not my problem.”
“No, it isn’t. But a place to stay is. And maybe money too?”
I felt the sucker punch as if it were real. He had my number, but I wasn’t the only one with an ace up my sleeve—he needed me just as badly. “Why me? Don’t you have any female friends who can do this? Aren’t there thousands of jersey chasers who’ll happily be Mrs. Saturday Afternoon Quarterback Keeper?”
“Yeah, there are.”
He smirked, making me frown.Cocky much?
“But they’ll want it to be real. This, between us, is a business arrangement. I need someone who is no-nonsense and understands that a deal is a deal.”
That, I could get behind. “What do I get out of this arrangement? A place to live, obviously, but what else?” If I could get more out of him, I was not above exploiting him for it. He owned the boat, even if his daddy bought it for him. I bet he had access to lots of money. I’d blown through what little I’d managed to take with me, and I could use some in case I had to make another quick exit.
“I’ll pay you to do whatever I need”—he rolled his eyes at my narrowed gaze—“not sexual, and we’ll split amicably when it’s over.”
“And when will that be?”
