Something Real (Atlanta Outlaws)

by Aja Cole

  I felt it that night after we had sex, and I tried to ignore it then, thinking that if I closed the door on it happening between us again; it'd make things less real.

  But damn...I can't avoid it anymore.

  I have feelings for her.

  What the fuck am I going to do now?

  16

  Shayla

  Today's a full day, and I have a lot of feelings about it. We're three months into this little arrangement and I have an interview with a lifestyle magazine so I can peddle some drivel about what it's like dating an NHL player. I'm already gagging at the answers I have to give that the PR person who ran through with me.

  But before all that happens, we'll be ring shopping because the interview will also serve as an announcement of our engagement. We're having lunch with Aunt Ernie too, because I put off telling her exactly what was going on until now.

  But I don't want her to find out from anyone else, and the only people at the office who know are the people who were in the room that day. That's how confidential the full extent of this is. She'll be hurt that I didn't tell her sooner, but I just didn't know what or how to tell her or how much. I signed an NDA and they don't take those lightly, so I know that I can't tell her the full truth...but maybe I can talk around it somehow.

  It just feels shitty hiding something so big from her, but I'll tackle it when I get there.

  Right now, I get to go ring shopping for a ring that I won't even be able to keep.

  Tragic.

  I finish putting on my mascara and screw the wand back into the container, dropping it into my makeup bag and leaving the bathroom. I slip my feet into flat, comfortable sandals since today will be long. They have cognac colored thin straps and cushioned insoles that make them my go-to. I'm wearing the white dress that I loved so much when Callista came, and my hair is up in a bun. I got a silk press a few days ago, but I can't be bothered to have it in my face today.

  When I make it downstairs, Dylan is waiting for me at the bottom in oatmeal colored shorts, a matching polo, and low top converse. He looks so effortlessly attractive with damp hair, and I hate him for it.

  Okay, I don't hate him but...I wish he would do less. Like, just be ugly for once. That'd be a nice change, and I could ignore the sparks that always flare along my nerves whenever I see him.

  "Ready?"

  "Nope, but we can go any way."

  He helps me into his truck outside and we head towards the city, with me getting lost in my thoughts for most of the drive.

  "Hey," Dylan pulls me back to the moment, turning down the radio. "I was thinking about lunch with your Aunt later."

  "I've been trying not to think about that."

  "Well, I was thinking that I could tell her what's going on so you don't have to lie to her."

  I cut my eyes to him, surprised. "You can't do that, I signed an NDA."

  "But I didn't sign an NDA, and I know she matters a lot to you. I'll swear to that if anyone tries to bring anything against you for it. You can even leave the table while I do if you want."

  I open my mouth to answer, but my phone rings and Aunt Ernie's face pops up on the screen. I answer her before I answer Dylan.

  "Hey, Auntie, what's up?"

  I listen, nodding and playing with the hem of my dress.

  "Love you too. Bye."

  Clicking off, I shake my head, laughing a little. "Well, apparently, my Aunt's boyfriend surprised her with a cruise so...she won't be back stateside for a bit. No lunch today."

  "Damn, but what happens if she hears about it before you can tell her?"

  "She said she's completely unplugging, so, it might not even make it to her until she's back. I don't know, but I don't want to tell her over the phone."

  "Yeah," he agrees, putting the truck in park. "Damn, I guess that's that for now."

  "Yep." I unbuckle my seat belt, slinging my cross-body purse around my body. "Now let's go buy these fake rings."

  I'm already croaking at the prices of these rings, and I can't even see them.

  That's how you know this place is way out of my price range because there are no prices. I can't imagine being so stupidly wealthy that you just pick things you want, with no regard to the cost.

  "Anything catching your eye?" The jeweler, Victor, asks helpfully.

  "Do you have a sale case?" I ask jokingly, and he laughs like I'm hilarious.

  Too bad, I was kind of serious.

  "Don't worry about the cost." Dylan puts a hand on my lower back and warm heat spreads from that one place of contact to my whole body. It's ridiculous. "Just look around and pick something you like."

  "I'll give you two some time to browse," Victor says, walking away.

  "None of these are blood diamonds, right?" I murmur to Dylan and he laughs.

  "No, and you don't have to get a diamond if you don't want one." He pulls me over to a case with different gems. "They have a lot of nontraditional options."

  I lean over the case, looking at all the sparkling options, but my eye snags on a pink colored stone with a gold band. "Can I try that one?"

  "You can try whatever you want, baby." He motions to Victor, who removes the ring from the case, gesturing for my hand. He slides it on my finger and it looks so damn good.

  "This is our berry colored 1.93-carat Padparadscha sapphire, in an Old European Cut with hand cut facets. Low profile bezel setting, and an 18 karat yellow gold band." Victor says proudly, "A unique one, and there's a matching wedding band as well."

  "How much is it?" I ask.

  "Do you like it?" Dylan answers instead, and I hold out my hand, admiring the gorgeous color. It does feel like it was made for me. If I'm going to wear a ring temporarily, then surely it should be one that I really like?

  "Yeah, but I should try on more, right?" I hedge. "I shouldn't pick the first one I try on."

  "Why not? Sometimes you just know." I look up at him and the look in his eyes is too intent for me. I look away and back at the ring, wavering.

  "Are you going to wear an engagement ring?" I switch topics.

  "Do you want me to?"

  "I feel like it's only fair, make sure everyone knows you're taken too." I raise an eyebrow, deflecting to humor. Victor moves away and comes back with a small tray.

  "Here are some matching men's rings, also set in yellow gold, that you may enjoy."

  Surveying the rings, Dylan picks one and slides it on his finger, putting his hand next to mine.

  "We match."

  "We do." I smile, resolving to just enjoy the moment for what it is.

  "We'll take them." Dylan says, sliding his off and handing it to Victor. I do the same, and my finger feels a little bereft now.

  "Well, one task down for today, one more to go."

  "I know Gina, she'll stick to the light questions, nothing too hard or invasive. Just have fun with it." He says about the interview later, "And I'll be there to swing anything you don't want to answer or feel uncomfortable about."

  "You'll be babysitting me this time?" I joke.

  "I'm the hottest babysitter you've ever had." His eyes spark with mischievousness. "We're in public, and we just got our engagement rings. I think that calls for a small celebration, don't you think?" He's already wrapped an arm around my back and is pulling me towards him, and it doesn't even cross my mind to resist.

  We're in public, after all. We have to keep up appearances.

  He kisses me softly, taking his time like he's reacquainting himself with the way I taste. I brace a hand on his chest, curling my fingers lightly into the fabric of his shirt and sighing into his mouth.

  The man can kiss.

  "Ah-hem." Victor passes a small black bag to us with a smile, interrupting us before we get too wrapped up. "I'll look forward to seeing you back for the wedding rings."

  "Thanks, Vic."

  "Thank you." I echo, and he wishes us well before we leave the small shop.

  "What are you feeling for lunch?" Dylan backs out of the parkin
g space, and like him, I'm just going to ignore that kiss. No need to rehash things...we'll just leave it at that.

  "Mary Mac's?"

  "Hell yeah, I could go for their cinnamon rolls right now."

  "So Shayla, were you a hockey fan before you started dating Dylan?"

  "Not at all." I laugh genuinely, thinking about everything I still don't know about hockey. I've only been to one game, actually. "I'm a pretty bad hockey girlfriend, really. But we've been enjoying the privacy, and Dylan knows that I support him even if I'm not watching a game."

  "How sweet!" Gina gushes, scribbling something down even though she has a recorder with her. I like her, she's not pushy about her questions so far, and she's really friendly. "How long have you two been dating?"

  "Well, we started out as friends, and we've recently realized that there was more between us." My mind flashes to exactly what's been between us so far, and I cough lightly, shaking my head. "Officially, only for a few months, but it feels like much longer."

  "Definitely feels like a lot longer." Dylan chimes in from the armchair across from us, where he's been on his phone.

  "You're supposed to be invisible." I remind him. It's been nerve-wracking enough with him sitting there while I answer the questions. Gina goes down her list of more questions, some more personal than I was expecting. I deflect some but answer most of them.

  At the end of the interview, she shuts off her recorder and I know that's Dylan's cue. He disappears to get the rings and comes back, thanking Gina for the interview and sitting beside me. We make small talk briefly, then he turns to me.

  "Actually, Gina, there's a small detail we forgot to mention."

  He turns to me, something I can't place in his eyes. "I know I've asked you already, but it seems appropriate to ask again. Shayla, will you do me the honor?"

  We'd already discussed this, and I was much more comfortable with him not explicitly asking if I'd marry him. I wanted to save that for...the real thing.

  "I already love my ring, so I guess I can't say no this time." I hold out my hand gracefully, and he slides the gorgeous ring on for the first time since we left the store. It really is gorgeous.

  I slide his ring onto his finger as well, leaning in for a kiss without prompting, and he obliges.

  "Wow, I was not expecting that!" Gina's scribbling even more furiously now, shaking her head. "Wow. Congratulations you two!"

  "Thank you. You're the first to know." I tell her, still holding Dylan's hand. I'll take all the little moments that I can get. Us putting rings on it is a reminder that the clock is winding down now, and we're a little more than halfway finished with this deal.

  "When's the wedding? Do you want kids?"

  Dylan laughs, taking the questions. "There's time for all of that. Right now, we're just enjoying being with each other."

  I nod my agreeance, even though my mind starts to spin up images of little Dylan's running around. A little girl with a riot of dark blonde kinks and brown eyes. A little boy with Dylan's coloring and green eyes...both of them holding hands with Dylan on the ice, learning how to skate...

  "Shay?"

  I startle, realizing that Gina's saying goodbye.

  "Sorry, I spaced out for a second."

  After she leaves, I pour myself a glass of wine in the kitchen, staring at the ring on my finger and wondering exactly how my cautious self got here.

  I'm in way too deep, and I know it. I wish I could see this as just a fantasy, just part of the contract...but it's not. It's past that, and I don't know what it's going to do to me for me to leave at the end.

  I'm scared, and there's not a damn thing I can do about it.

  17

  Dylan

  "What's she like?" Shay asks, cutting up strawberries. "Is it just her? Do your sisters know?"

  "If they don't yet, they'll know after today." I slice the bananas, adding them to the platter of fruit, grabbing papaya. "And it's just her, my mom is pretty cool. A little abrasive sometimes but it's just that she's so used to being the one in charge. But I think you'll get along. My sisters would like you too."

  "So what exactly are we gonna tell her?"

  "I was actually thinking...we let her believe it's real."

  As expected, Shayla doesn't say anything immediately, and I give her time to mull it over.

  "Why?" Her expression is curious, not judgmental. Yet.

  "You know I...had a bad few weeks. That's why everyone got this bug up their ass that I was out of control. But nobody really knew what was going on except my mom. She...didn't approve but she's always tried to support my sisters and I no matter what. I've disappointed the hell out of her a bunch and she's always been there."

  "You sound really cryptic right now." She puts the knife down, her hoop earrings swinging against her jaw.

  I lean against the counter, crossing my arms and turning away from her.

  "Alright, this is going to sound pretty shitty, but...I thought I loved my team-mates wife. I thought she was going to get her divorce and be with me, and I thought they were doing that anyway. Turns out they were in counseling and the apartment she had wasn't because they were separated; she was just house-sitting for a friend."

  "So she lied to you? The whole time?"

  "The whole time." I study the floor tiles and I still can't believe how stupid I was.

  "Your body language is like you're preparing for me to rake you over hot coals."

  "People tend to not respect people who've participated in an affair."

  "Are you still knowingly in an affair with a married woman?"

  "No, I ended things the minute I found out the truth." I face her again.

  "Well, then you learned something. You moved on. You can't be mad at yourself for something you didn't know." She starts cutting fruit again, popping a piece into her mouth. "And honestly, it's not my place to judge anyway, so you can take a deep breath. Does this taste sweet to you?" She holds up a piece of pineapple to me and I move to her, letting her put it in my mouth.

  "Yeah. It doesn't taste sweet to you?"

  "It does, but I wanted to distract you." She winks, and I press a thankful kiss to her forehead.

  "Anything I can do to distract you? I know you're nervous about meeting my mom."

  "Well, I was distracted until you mentioned it." She rolls her eyes. "I've only met one mom and she hated me on principle since her son wanted to transfer to my university. Never mind that I had no idea he was thinking about that. He basically still had his umbilical cord."

  "You know, you've never talked about your mom. What's the story there?"

  "No story." She shrugs, "My mom had me when she was young, and Aunt Ernie couldn't have another kid. You remember Shawn? That's her son. My mom was involved and there's no sordid past, but Aunt Ernie took on more of a parent role and my mom is kind of like an older sister."

  "So you're close?"

  "We're close-ish. We talk every few weeks and I have dinner with her family, or we all get together. She married a guy with two kids, so she's doing a little more mom-ing now. I like them, they fit."

  "Are you going to tell her?"

  Pursing her lips, she shakes her head. "Mmm I love my mom, but she'd be planning the wedding within weeks. She gets really excited about stuff and I'd rather just...not. She's kind of firmly ensconced in suburban mom world and I bet she won't hear a peep about things if we don't tell her."

  "Gotcha. Well, they raised an amazing woman. Really, Shayla, I can't imagine doing this with anyone else."

  "Aww," Her eyes sparkle and she pops another piece of fruit in my mouth. "Thanks, D."

  "We trying out nicknames?" I laugh.

  "Yeah, Dylan is too long."

  "I thought it was a nice, easy name." The voice comes from the kitchen doorway and we both swing towards it.

  "Ma," I move around the island with open arms, and she walks into them, squeezing me tight. "We didn't hear you come in. How'd you get here? Why didn't you call me to get you from
the airport?"

  "I rented a car," She says breezily. "I didn't want you shuttling me around. You know I like my independence."

  "You could've borrowed my other car."

  "Maybe I don't like your other car." She says sweetly, reaching up and ruffling my hair. She looks around me at Shayla, who's washed her hands and is drying her hands on a dishtowel. "You must be Shayla. Call me Dawn."

  "Hi Dawn, it's nice to meet you. Uh, are you a hugger?" She hedges, and my mom shakes her head with a light laugh, opening her arms.

  "Yes darlin', I'm a hugger." My mom pulls back, surveying Shayla. "What in god's name are you doing with this kid? You're gorgeous."

  "Thanks, mom," I deadpan. "It's not like I resemble you or anything."

  "He takes after his father," she mock whispers to Shayla. "The handsome bastard."

  Shayla looks like she doesn't know what she should say, and I help her out.

  "Don't mind her, she and dad had dinner together last week. They're very much friends."

  "We discovered that we're much more amicable as co-parents than husband and wife. Truly, I wish I'd known sooner, I could've saved all the money I spent on the wedding." My mom looks away wistfully, and Shayla gives me raised eyebrows. I shrug, used to my mom's lack of filter.

  "Dawn, we didn't know if you'd want us to pick a place for dinner or if you'd like to? D told me you're a chef, but I didn't want you cooking for us the first time I meet you."

  "See, I'm glad that someone thinks about all the time I spend slaving in my own restaurant!" My mom gives me the eye. "My kids make me cook for them whenever we're all here."

  "She's lying," I nudge her with my hip, crossing my arms. "My sisters and I refuse to cook for her if she wants something specific because she's never happy."

  "I wouldn't have a problem if my kids remembered my recipes better."

  "Oh, the ones you expect us to memorize when you change things up all the time?"

  My mom crosses her eyes like a child and Shayla laughs.

  "Don't encourage her antics."