by S. R. Grey
I told Jock it’s funny because I don’t own that make and model of car, even back in Vegas.
He then politely informed me, “You do now, Tettersaw. Your rental car has been returned, and a new dark blue Porsche Carrera awaits you for when you’re back in town.”
“You’re shitting me,” I said, incredulous.
“I am not,” he replied.
Who knew so much could change while I was away?
But it did.
As I discover when the team bus drops me off at the stadium and there it is—the Porsche Carrera, waiting for me in the players’ parking area, just as Jock promised.
I’m nervous to see what else has changed while I was away.
That’s why I’m anxiously tapping the steering wheel of my new Porsche as I’m driving up the long driveway to the New Albany house.
What will I find inside?
Hopefully it won’t be some other guy. As Eden so clearly reminded me before I left for camp, our arrangement is just that—an arrangement.
She could bring someone home if she wanted to, and there’s nothing I can do about it. I have no right to say one single word.
Fuck, I don’t like thinking about that, though.
Eden was on my mind a lot at camp and I just can’t fucking help it, I’m captivated by her.
By the time I’m out of the car and standing at the front door, I feel uneasy about walking into my own damn house.
Now I’m beyond aggravated.
“It doesn’t matter,” I hiss under my breath. “Even if there is a man in there with her, she’s not your real girlfriend.”
What’s bizarre is that, despite our agreeing that it’d be best not to start up something, I keep thinking more and more about what it would be like if we said “fuck it” and did exactly that.
Maybe it’s because of that initial spark that I’m so damn obsessed. Or maybe it’s because I know that kind of instant connection is hard to find. Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever felt that before in my life.
To complicate things further, Eden and I genuinely get along.
I remember the easy fun we had on pizza night. And the fact I couldn’t keep my eyes off her when we were moving around furniture.
Stop, this is stupid. Just get inside the house.
I finally get moving and find that my fears are unfounded.
Once inside the foyer, it’s clear the house is empty. Eden’s not here.
Maybe she went out?
Now that I think about it, her car wasn’t parked outside.
“Eden?” I call up the stairs, just to double-check. “Are you up there?”
No answer.
“Crap.”
I drop my bag onto the marble floor.
And that’s when I hear a car pulling up outside.
Hurriedly, I step over to the door and peek out the small side window.
It’s her, Eden.
I’d recognize that ratty car of hers anywhere.
That makes me smile. It’s kind of adorable how dedicated she is to that piece of crap.
Hmm, should I go out and let her know I’m back?
No, I think the Porsche in the driveway gives that away.
Okay, so how about this…
What if I went out and grabbed her up in a big hug?
What if I told her I missed her while I was away at camp?
What if I put it out there that I was wrong, and so was she?
I could suggest we give this fake arrangement a real try, just take it super slow. That way we wouldn’t move too fast and screw things up.
Yeah, I think I’ll do that.
I open the door and step outside, ready to do something that may be stupid as hell.
But who cares?
Sometimes in life, you have to go with your gut.
Too bad I’m stopped in my tracks when I see Eden isn’t alone.
She’s out of the car, but there’s someone with her.
And it’s a guy.
Fuck.
Is Graham Jealous?
Whoa, Graham is back from camp and he is looking better than ever.
Dude is hot, hot, hot, standing there in dark-wash jeans that hug his strong legs and a tight black tee that makes him look massive.
But then I notice something else—he looks super pissed.
Wonder why?
Marching down the front steps, jaw set and fists clenched at his sides, he grinds out a curt, “Hey.”
I wave to him. “Hey, welcome back.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
Okay, that was so not friendly.
I notice he’s glaring at my brother.
That’s weird.
Paul is just kind of standing there in awe—of the house, not my fake boyfriend.
I almost laugh out loud. It’s like poor Graham’s not even here. Not that Paul would be awestruck by him, anyway. My brother’s way more into art than he is into sports.
It’s kind of good.
The reprieve gives Graham a chance to really look over my brother. I think he sees he’s young. And then he notices the resemblance.
Graham blows out a clearly relieved breath.
Interesting.
Was someone jealous?
I think so.
“Oh,” Graham says, visibly relaxing. “This is your brother, Paul, right?”
I roll my eyes. “Yes, this is my brother.”
There were a couple of pictures of Paul in the info packets. Graham saw them, I’m sure.
Still, he obviously thought in his initial anger that I’d brought back some guy to the house.
Seriously?
And what would it matter if I did, anyway?
I almost blurt that out, but instead I offer an explanation as to why Paul’s with me.
“So, since this is Labor Day weekend, classes don’t start back for Paul till Tuesday. Most of his new friends were going home, so we decided I should pick him up so he can spend the weekend here.”
Paul, turning his attention to Graham, holds out his hand and says, “Hey, man, it’s good to meet ya.”
Graham shakes his hand and murmurs a lackluster, “Likewise.”
“I’ve heard a lot about you from Eden,” Paul goes on. “She got me all up to speed on the drive down here. She also said that, despite how weird this business arrangement you guys have is, you’re a pretty cool dude.”
Graham seems to soften at the compliment, but then his eyes widen as he realizes what he just heard—I’ve told Paul everything.
I couldn’t lie to my brother anymore. I never received explicit team approval, but Jock said I could do whatever I felt was best, so long as I made sure Paul remained discreet about it.
Coming clean was bound to happen. Paul and I are just too close. And I know I can trust him not to tell a single soul about my secret.
I make a mental note to relay all this to Graham when I have a chance so that he doesn’t stay angry.
But for now I just give him an I’ll-explain-later look.
Turning away from Graham, I say to my brother, “Come on, Paul.” I motion for him to follow me up the steps. “Let me show you around inside. I think you’ll like this place.”
“Sweet.” Paul bops up ahead of me, disappearing into the house.
I start to follow, but Graham catches my arm. Not that I’m complaining. I kind of like the way his warm, strong hand feels on me.
But my nice, fuzzy feelings turn to irritation when Graham hisses, “I thought the rules stated that we aren’t supposed to tell loved ones about this arrangement. I have a sister too, you know. One I’d like to come clean with, as well.”
“So go ahead and tell her,” I snap right the hell back, while disengaging my arm with a firm yank. “Paul’s not going to say anything to anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Among other things,” he murmurs.
“Hey, I actually had no choice but to tell him. He saw those stupid fake vacation pics online and asked me what was
up. My brother, who I freaking live with, knows damn well I didn’t go anywhere in July. And he also knows I’ve never been out west. Not to mention, I didn’t like lying to him in the first place. I wasn’t about to keep it going and dig myself a deeper hole.”
Graham blows out a breath. “What about when your coworkers at the diner see those same pics, Eden? You worked there while I was away, right? I saw in the packet that you’re staying on.”
“I am, and I did,” I confirm. “But they haven’t mentioned one word about the pics.”
“What about when they do? Are you going to confess everything and invite them over to the house too?”
Jeez, Graham’s so tense.
Is this attitude really because I told Paul the truth?
I don’t know.
I sense this has more to do with Graham originally thinking my brother was some rando I brought back to the house.
Eww, as if.
And again, why would he care?
We decided keeping things platonic is the best course for us.
But is it really?
Ugh!
“No,” I volley back. “People at work don’t know everything about my life. So we’re safe there,” I huff loudly. “And by the way, I worked exactly two shifts while you were at camp. Everyone has bought our stupid, made-up backstory. In fact, they were all congratulating me on landing a”—I throw up sarcastic air quotes—“cute professional athlete.”
I stomp away before Graham has a chance to reply.
Argh, he makes me so angry.
But what does it matter?
It shouldn’t.
But it does.
Help!
Inside, I discover Paul has found the theater room downstairs. Hmm, I knew he’d like it here.
“You have your own movie room?” he asks, brows shooting up when I walk in.
“Yep”—I gesture to the wall to the right—“and there’s even a popcorn maker over there.”
“Damn, Eden.” He shakes his head. “Too bad I can’t move in here with you guys.”
I don’t want him getting any ideas about leaving school, so I quickly reply, “Hey, you live up in Mansfield now, bud. And those dorms looked pretty sweet to me. Besides, I thought you said you loved your new room.”
“I do, sure, but come on. This would be lit, coming home to this.”
I think it over and say, “Hey, tell you what. For as long as this arrangement lasts, would you want to stay here when you’re down here for breaks?”
He pumps his fist and replies, “Fuck yeah. Screw that old cruddy apartment.”
“Language, Paul,” I warn.
Sighing wearily, he says, “Eden, please. I’m fifteen, not five.”
“Still, work with me here. I’m just trying to do my best.”
He softens, draping a lanky arm around me. “I know, and I appreciate it. Really, I do. I also know why you agreed to pretend to be someone’s girlfriend.”
“Yeah,” I scoff, “for the money. Too bad I totally feel like I sold a little piece of my soul along the way.”
“You didn’t,” Paul insists. “You did this for us. You have to think of this as just another job.” He nudges me. “Kind of like that fake modeling gig you told me about, just with more acting.”
“Yeah, for sure,” I snort.
I’m glad Paul isn’t too mad at me for lying to him.
“Graham doesn’t seem so bad,” he says.
“No, he’s not,” I reply.
“So that’s cool. Be his fake girl or whatever, and collect your money at the end.”
“I already received a couple of payments,” I share with him, along with a sly smile.
Paul’s eyes widen. “What? No way! You’ve been holding out on me, dude. And, more importantly, why are you still driving around in that shitty-ass car?”
“Hey! First I’m not a dude, okay?”
Paul snickers. “Okay.”
“And secondly, my Saturn is not shitty.”
“Ah, it kind of is, sis.”
I shrug, conceding, “Okay, maybe it is a little. I honestly don’t know why I haven’t looked for something better. I guess it feels weird knowing I have more than ten dollars in my bank account.”
In a low conspiratorial voice, Paul asks, “Exactly how much do you have right now?”
Sheepishly, I reply, “I think there’s about $20,000 in there. No, wait, I received a bonus for moving in so fast, so make that $30,000.”
“$30,000!” my brother exclaims.
I can’t help but grin. “Yep.”
He grabs my hand. “Holy shit, come on.”
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“Car shopping.”
Car Shopping
When Eden and her brother come up from downstairs, they’re beaming.
Seeing her that happy gives me a rush of… I don’t know. Satisfaction, maybe?
Whatever it is, I’m no longer mad that she told her brother about our arrangement. I’m sure he’ll keep his mouth shut, if for nothing else but for her sake. They seem really close, which I like.
I’m close with my only sibling, Chloe, as well. It’s cool to know Eden and I are alike in that respect too.
“So what’s everyone so pumped up about?” I ask the grinning duo.
“We’re going car shopping,” Paul says.
“Finally,” I can’t help but blurt out.
“Hey!” Eden smacks my arm. “Stop hating on the green machine. You and Paul are too much. That car has been in our family for many years.”
Paul leans in and whispers, “The rust bucket means a lot to her, dude. It was our dad’s car.”
“Ah, I see.” I turn to Eden. “Hey, if it holds sentimental value for you, you can always keep it here. Maybe store it in one of the garages? After all, we have five.”
“Hmm, true,” she says.
Eden’s into it, I can tell, but her brother really loves the idea. Seems the Saturn means something to him too, despite his bluster.
“That’d be awesome,” he exclaims. “You could hold on to it and give it to me when I get my license next year.”
Frowning, Eden says, “Wait, I thought you hated that car.”
Paul shrugs. “Eh, it’s okay. Besides, shouldn’t everyone’s first car be a beater? It builds character, right?”
“Pfft.” She pushes him away. “You have enough character for the both of us, bud. But sure, I’ll hold on to it for you.”
“Thanks, sis.”
“Not a problem. But”—she checks her phone—“it’s getting late. We better get going before the dealerships close for the evening. I mean, if we really are doing this.”
“Oh, we are,” Paul says.
I tell them to have fun, and Eden starts for the door. But Paul is lingering.
“What’s up?” I ask him.
“I was just thinking maybe you should come with us,” he says softly.
“Um…”
I’m reluctant, not because I don’t want to go. I just don’t want to intrude on their brother-sister time.
“That’s really up to your sister,” I say at last.
Eden steps back to us and, clearly having heard our exchange, says, “Sure, you can come along, Graham. I mean, if you want to, that is.”
“Of course I want to,” I tell her, our eyes meeting.
I really would like to go. I haven’t spent any time with her in two weeks, and frankly, I’ve missed the woman.
No, that can’t be right. I barely even know her. But there’s definitely a part of me that really enjoys her company.
I tell myself I’m only going because it’ll look fantastic if we’re photographed out car-shopping together. Think of the optics on that one. Jock and the team will be so pleased.
That’s what I keep telling myself to explain my motivation for tagging along.
But it’s no use.
Fuck the optics.
I just want to spend time with Eden.
So, opening
the front door and sweeping my hand out in front of me, I gesture for her and her brother to go ahead of me, stating, “Let’s do this.”
Over the next few hours, we hit up several car dealerships, starting with the places that sell practical brands like Hondas and Toyotas. That’s what Eden says she wants.
But after a few boring test drives, where Paul and I groan the whole time that the cars she keeps picking are nothing but grocery-getters, she finally considers upping her game.
Seeing a window of opportunity, Paul and I jump right on it.
“You can’t be a famous football player’s girlfriend”—her brother thumbs to me as we’re walking back to the Saturn after our fourth dull test drive—“and be seen driving around in some cheap-ass car that’s no better than the one you already own, Eden.”
I think I like this kid.
“Hey,” Eden exclaims.
“Hey is right,” I chime in. “I’m not all that famous.”
“Yet,” Eden says, smiling over at me.
What a doll.
“Come on,” Paul whines. “You have the money. And you’ll get another payment from the team real soon. Graham can loan you the difference and you can pay him back.”
“I’m fine with that,” I interject.
“See,” Paul says. “Let’s go check out some cool cars, like an Audi.”
Eden appears torn. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”
“Why the hell not?” Paul asks.
Running her hands through her shiny auburn hair, she sighs. We’ve just reached the Saturn and everyone’s stopped by the doors.
“It’s just, now the press releases are out and everyone knows I’m a waitress. Won’t people wonder how I could possibly afford an expensive car like an Audi?”
Deciding to stay out of it, I take a step back so she and Paul can hash this out.
Throwing up his hands, her brother says, “But you can afford an Audi.”
“The public doesn’t know that, Paul. And they can’t find out.”
“Just act like Graham paid for it.” He waves a hand my way. “He’s supposed to be your boyfriend, right?”
Now Eden looks really uneasy, and I sense we’re getting to the true reason for her hesitation.
Sure enough, she snaps, “Maybe I just don’t want to look like I’m a kept woman.”