Secrets Abroad: A Fake Fiancée Romance

by D. G. Whiskey

  Neither of us had spoken in over a minute as we looked at each other.

  She smiled. “Sorry. It’s just been so long. It’s hard to believe that you’re here in front of me.”

  “Trust me, I know what you mean.”

  We shared a laugh, the tension between us fading as we regained a portion of the easy comfort that made the week in Florida a highlight of my life.

  “How have you been?” she asked. “You obviously made it to the pros, and judging from what Tony and Dr. Kent said as you walked up, you’ve been making a name for yourself.”

  Her face was open and earnest.

  Did she really never look me up?

  We’d never shared our names, but she knew which school I went to and that I was the quarterback. I wouldn’t have been hard to find.

  “I went number one in the draft,” I said. I allowed myself a moment to recall the sense of exaltation that had filled me when the general manager called my name from the podium. A life’s effort dedicated toward a singular, highly unlikely purpose, and to achieve that dream… “It was a good day.”

  “Good day? Don’t pretend like you didn’t have the biggest shit-eating grin on your face for a month. I know you.”

  I nodded, conceding the point. She knew me better than anyone ever had, despite the short time we’d spent together.

  “I think I caused permanent damage to my cheek muscles from all the smiling.”

  “And after that? You just got traded to Los Angeles, right?”

  “That’s right. I was in Portland for two seasons. We went from worst in the league to the championship game last year.” I hesitated. The memory was still raw. “I could have won it with the final play of the game, but I fucked up the throw.”

  She winced. “Sorry to bring that up. That must have been tough.”

  Tough was an understatement. The off-season had been spent doing two things—soul searching and practicing relentlessly.

  “I’m past it. The important part is that I have the chance to start fresh with a new team. If I can build Los Angeles into a powerhouse this year after their terrible season last year, it will feed into my legacy as being one of the biggest difference-makers in the history of the sport.”

  She knew how important that was to me. We’d talked about it enough.

  “Enough about me,” I said. “What about you, Juliette?”

  It was only the second time I had ever said her name. It rolled through my mouth, three syllables I knew I would spend the night repeating over and over.

  “Nothing nearly as exciting. I finished my undergrad in kinesiology and went into grad studies. There is cutting edge research going on at the college, and I’m lucky enough to have been picked by Dr. Kent to assist him with this study. It’s the first time the league has ever allowed something like this.”

  I eyed her. “So you’ll be here all season?”

  It would be heaven to have her around all the time.

  She blushed at the look I gave her. “I will be, yes. Assuming the study goes smoothly.”

  “Excellent. We’ll have to take advantage of that.”

  I wanted to kiss her so badly.

  Chapter Three

  ~Juliette~

  PAST

  “Here’s the plan. We’ll party it up at this bar tonight and see where it goes. If you can find places to spend the nights, that’s perfect. It’s a little too cramped in our room.”

  Heather already scanned the crowd, looking for a partner for the night.

  I took a sip of my drink. It was impossible to even taste the alcohol over the sweet, sugary slush mixed with it.

  Dangerous. I can already feel it.

  “See, this is why I said we should just get two rooms for the four of us,” I said. “You might be a dirty slut—love you—but I don’t want to hook up with guys just so I can sleep more comfortably.”

  “Loosen up, Juliette! You finally broke up with your high school boyfriend after months of us telling you that long distance college relationships don’t work. We’re here at spring break. Just enjoy it and find out what you’ve been missing all this time. The world won’t end if you have a one-night stand with no strings attached a couple of times, you know?”

  The mention of Jim gave my bruised heart a jolt, but I shrugged it off. Heather was right. I didn’t have to be so uptight anymore. College was the time when it was excusable to let loose a little.

  Besides, it’s been so long since I’ve had sex.

  Jim and I hadn’t seen each other since Christmas break, and my fingers could only give so much satisfaction. I thought of the man from the airport. Flirting with him had been fun and had turned me on, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how he couldn’t take his eyes off me.

  Nothing I can do about that now. There are so many people here for spring break. I won’t see him again.

  I took a deeper gulp of the cold drink. It still felt wrong to be drinking at a bar, but the fake IDs we’d gotten before the trip had worked flawlessly.

  Either that, or they know exactly who their clientele is. If they crack down on the underage drinkers, they won’t make nearly as much money.

  An arm reached between Heather and me to rest on the pillar beside us. The man who’d separated us was big enough that I couldn’t see around him.

  “Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” I asked as I looked up at him.

  The startling blue eyes that had captured my attention at the airport stared into my own. A familiar smug smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

  “Oh, excuse me. You’re the one who said I should spend my time with you.”

  Heather peeked around his broad shoulders and gave me a thumbs up. She walked away, and I struggled to think of something witty to say.

  “Um, that’s true—”

  “But you didn’t think I’d ever find you again, did you?” His grin was less smug and more open now. It made his already attractive face downright devastating. “Aren’t you glad I did?”

  “No… no, I didn’t think that one through,” I admitted. “You’re pretty cocky to think I wasn’t just messing with you.”

  “Not cocky,” he said. “Confident. There’s a difference. What’s your name?”

  I shook my head. “No names.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Interesting. I guess I’ll just have to call you Sexy, then.”

  A pleasant flush crept up the back of my neck. “Then maybe I'll call you Cocky.”

  “That’s a good fit. I’ll show you my big—”

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “Keep it in your pants for now. I’m not that easy.”

  “For now?” The flush spread to my cheeks at the look he gave me. “I was going to say that I’ll show you my big heart. But if your mind is that deep in the gutter, then maybe I can show you something else.”

  To save myself from saying anything else embarrassing, I took a long gulp of my drink instead. Cocky took my glass and set it on a table, then he grabbed my hand.

  “Let’s go dance.”

  His confidence was disarming—he didn’t give me a chance to say no.

  I wasn’t sure if I could.

  PRESENT

  I knew what was going through Travis’s mind.

  It was the same thing I couldn’t stop thinking.

  “I should go. It looks like the guys are gathering with the coaches on the field.”

  He hesitated, as though his business wasn’t finished.

  “I don’t want to get you in trouble,” I said, shooing him away.

  I didn’t say how much trouble he could get me into if he kissed me like we both wanted him to.

  “We’ll talk later.”

  The tight white practice uniform did nothing to hide the bulging muscles underneath as he jogged away across the emerald grass and crisply painted lines.

  “How the hell do you know Travis King? He’s practically a god in this country.”

  Dr. Kent had approached as I watched the quarterback
lope away.

  I was far too busy thinking about the conversation with Travis to pay much attention to what came out of my mouth.

  “We had a fling on spring break about five years ago. I didn’t think I’d ever see him again.”

  You made sure of it by avoiding all references to the league for the past five years. You didn’t want to see him in the papers standing next to a trophy wife.

  “Will this be a problem, Juliette? You two looked… intense.”

  Were we ever intense back then.

  “Of course it’s not a problem,” I replied. “I’ve dreamed about this for years.”

  Dr. Kent’s next words snapped me out of my reverie.

  “I have to take you off this study, Juliette.”

  That captured my attention. I took my gaze off Travis’s backside to catch the expression on Dr. Kent’s face. His eyebrows were furrowed and lips pursed.

  “What? You can’t do that, professor. This study is my thesis project!”

  “That doesn’t matter. Don’t you remember that massive contract we were given this afternoon? I’ve been trying to gain access to run this study for over fifteen years, and the league will do anything to retract their permission. If you get involved with the team’s quarterback, they’ll kick us out faster than you can blink.”

  I stared at him. “We were just talking!”

  It wasn’t fair. This thesis was not only my ticket to my graduate degree, but being a co-author would give me the credibility to launch a respectable research career.

  “I saw the way he looked at you, Juliette. You don’t know how football players are. He won’t have any respect for the rules—it won’t be him that suffers the fallout.”

  I know football players. This one, at least.

  Dr. Kent may have a point. But I wouldn’t give up without a fight.

  “Please, sir. I promise, I have things under control. Nothing will happen between me and Travis King. Nothing.”

  No matter how much I want it.

  He crossed his arms and tapped his hand on his elbow. “If this study gets messed up because of you, Juliette, your academic career is over, do you understand? This will be my crowning achievement, and if it’s taken away from me because you can’t control yourself around that man, then I will make sure no college in the country will ever accept an application from you again.”

  I had never seen this side of Dr. Kent. The kindly older man had turned fierce and demanding.

  The men on the field had broken into squads, and Travis controlled the ball at one end of the field. His teammate broke off into a sprint, eating up a huge number of yards in just a few seconds.

  Travis waited. And waited.

  He finally uncocked his arm and let the ball loose, the powerful movement unleashing the football in a tight spiral that arced down the field. The receiver had run far, further than should have been reachable. The ball carried dozens of yards, passing overhead of the defenders and perfectly over the shoulder of the receiver just as he entered the end zone.

  Loud whoops echoed across the field as a few of the men jumped around Travis and gave him high fives.

  I never thought I’d see him again. Now that he was back in my life, could I resist him?

  “It won’t be a problem, Dr. Kent. I promise. I’m dedicated to my career and I will make sure that nothing gets in the way.”

  Chapter Four

  ~Travis~

  PAST

  I can’t believe how fine she is.

  The brunette had started off meek and mild on the dance floor, but she had soon thrown propriety out the window.

  I held her tight body close against me, running my hands down her back and across her ass as we moved in rhythm to the beat. The dance floor was hot and muggy, but the sweat just added to the experience.

  She turned around to push her ass back against me and took hold of my hands to guide them to her hips. The house music pounded as we lost ourselves in each other, ignoring the world, two more drunken revelers amidst a sea of young adult hormones.

  No one could judge us because everyone else was doing the same thing.

  I pushed the boundaries every chance I got, first running my hands along her sides, brushing the underside of her impressive bust, and sliding down to flirt with the edges of her short shorts. The halter-top she wore bared her midriff, allowing my fingers to dance across her smooth skin.

  I turned her back around.

  Our bodies pressed together as tightly as possible, and her face was inches away from my own.

  “You’re so sexy, Sexy,” I said.

  We stared at each other for a moment before our lips touched.

  The softness of her lips was balanced with the need in her mouth as we sank into a fierce embrace.

  Sexy wrapped a leg around me, and we continued moving to the beat, lost in sensation as music thrummed through our bodies and blood rushed in our ears.

  My hands wandered further and further, running over her breasts and the front of her shorts, using the press of the crowd to hide our actions.

  My cock had risen to full strength under the intense physical action, straining against my shorts. Sexy pressed it against her body, and I could feel the moans inside her mouth even if I couldn’t hear them. Her hand covered the front of my shorts, wrapping around my shaft through the fabric.

  She backed off from the kiss, the first break in enough songs that I’d lost count.

  Her eyes were wide. “You weren’t kidding, Cocky. You do have a big heart.”

  I winked and squeezed her ass. Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment.

  “Do you want to go back to my room? I’d love to dance more with no one watching.”

  She hesitated, but her hands never left my cock. She bit her lip.

  “Fuck it. It’s spring break. Time to live a little.”

  I didn’t know what she was talking about, and I didn’t care.

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  PRESENT

  The practice went according to plan.

  The only way we would win games this season was if I could give them the confidence and faith in themselves to believe they could.

  I did everything I could to dazzle my new teammates, giving a full effort with every throw, doing what I could to convince them that the hype around my arrival wasn’t misplaced.

  Hampered by a season that saw career-ending injuries to both their starting quarterback and primary backup, it had been a long time since many of the men had been on the receiving end of such a crisp pass.

  There was even a familiar face running routes down the field.

  “I can’t believe you’re here,” Ricky said. “It’s just like old times when we dominated in college, isn’t it?”

  The wide receiver clapped me on the shoulder. He’d been selected by Los Angeles in the same draft that had sent me to Portland.

  “If we can win a national championship like we did then, I’ll be happy.”

  The sun beat down with an intensity I wasn’t used to. Playing in Portland at this time of year was much cooler than the hot Los Angeles sun. Practice in these conditions would be brutal until my body acclimated.

  “All right, that’s enough!” Tony shouted. “Good work, everyone. Go hit the showers, then we’ll have a team meeting.”

  I looked for Juliette as we streamed off the field, but she wasn’t on the sidelines any longer. She’d watched most of the practice—I couldn’t stop looking over between each play. Looking at her satisfied a deep thirst within me, like a barren field receiving rain after years of drought.

  “Hey, Travis, you hear about that concussion study bullshit they’re forcing on us?”

  We stripped and walked into the showers.

  Another teammate chipped in, one of my offensive linemen, Leroy.

  “I heard we’re the only team that has to let them trick us out with sensors. It’s not fair, man.”

  Ricky slapped the wall. “It’s brutal. We’ll get weighed down by thi
s shit, and all it will do is lead to them telling us we can’t play anymore.”

  “Isn’t it better to have that information than not?” I asked. “I mean, if playing football actually meant we were more likely to die in our forties, shouldn’t we at least know that rather than stick our fingers in our ears and pretend everything’s okay? It’s still our choice to play.”

  Ricky gave me a dirty look.

  “It won’t play out like that, buddy. It doesn’t matter what you or I want. We live in a nanny state that’s desperate to show they know what’s good for you better than you know yourself. Just wait. There will be so many new regulations and rules over the next five years that it won’t even be the same game anymore.”

  “Man, fuck that shit,” Leroy said. “I just wanna play football.”

  I put out my hands to calm them. “Relax, guys. It’s a preliminary study. They won’t even have results out for another few years.”

  “It’s coming, though,” Ricky said. “Before you know it, we’ll be playing touch football. It’ll kill all excitement in the game, no one will watch anymore, and the money will dry up. You want that big, fancy quarterback salary of yours to go away? Because that’s what’ll happen.”

  Ricky hadn’t changed. Once he had his mind set on something, he would never alter it even if proven wrong by a thousand reputable sources.

  It was impossible to argue with some people.

  “Whatever. The study’s here, and that’s that. No use complaining about it.”

  Leroy “humphed” and turned his back to the spray.

  Ricky shook his head. “We’re the players. We have the control. If they don’t have us, they don’t have a product. I say we band together and tell the league we won’t play this year if they make us go through with this. And if that fails, then we make it clear to those scientists that something bad will happen to them if they don’t pack up their shit and run back to their school.”