Page 25 of Her Game Plan

“That feels like bragging, Callan Devine,” Charlotte teases, and something flickers to life in my chest, like a panther blinking open one eye.

“It is bragging, Princess.”

Her expression flattens. “Don’t call me that.”

I shrug. “Every couple needs pet names.”

“It’s not a pet name if you say it to annoy me,” she protests.

I use it more to amuse me than to annoy her, but I let the point go. “Maybe that’s how fake pet names work, then.”

We finalize the last details of our ruse, and after exchanging phone numbers, I head to the couch to say goodbye to Marlee.

“I’ve got to go, Marlee. Nice to meet you.” I stick out a fist for a bump.

She knocks her knuckles against mine. “See you later, alligator.” There’s half a breath’s pause before she reminds me, “You say ‘in a while, crocodile.’”

My mind flashes back to a kids’ book I read during an event at the Children’s Hospital a few months ago. “See you soon, big baboon.”

Her eyes go wide, her mouth silently forming the words “big baboon” before she asks, “Do you have to go?”

I nod solemnly. “Unfortunately. But I’ll see you around, okay? And don’t let your aunt watch any scary movies. She won’t get any sleep if she does.” I smirk at Charlotte who feigns annoyance.

“Get out of here, Devine.”

I chuckle before blowing her a kiss. “See ya later, Princess.”

As I drive home, the purr of the R8 rumbling beneath me, my mind isn’t on football. Isn’t on the team. It’s not even sorting through what it will mean to have a woman living with me. Instead, it’s looping the last image of Charlotte, her tongue stuck out, laughter in her eyes, and suddenly I’m wondering what I got myself into…

And how I’m possibly going to survive it.

Chapter 11

Charlotte

“Is that your Mercedes in my spot?”

I turn toward Callan, a confused smile spreading on his face. I’ve been at the practice facility for a couple of hours, trying to get my feet under me before camp. Chris assured me no one expects me to be here, but I disagree. If I’m going to lead this team, I need to understand it. And there’s no way I can do that without seeing it for myself. I’m not out here trying to coach or micromanage, but I’m not going to blindly trust what people are telling me, either.

I cock my head. “Which spot?”

“The one with my name on it? That currently has a car so bright in it that I can only assume it belongs to you.”

I might not have been paying attention when I parked this morning.

“Why is yours the closest one?” Even though I know I should be thanking Callan profusely rather than antagonizing him, old habits die hard, I guess. “Shouldn’t the owner’s spot be closer?” I know he’s our most important player from a franchise perspective, but does that mean he gets the best parking location?

He rubs his eyes, and I don’t miss the way his T-shirt pulls across his shoulders with the movement. Yum.

“Your dad doesn’t spend a lot of time here.”

Makes sense. And totally fixable. “No worries, then. I’ll get the spots shifted around.” I offer him an I’ve-got-this smile.

He inhales deeply. “Maybe wait longer than a day before you start moving around parking spots, huh, Princess?”

I can tell he’s annoyed, but also a little amused. “Don’t call me Princess, Devine.”

“It’s hard not to when your princess is showing.” The fire in his gaze begs me to spar with him. And I want to in more ways than one.