“Right,” I say, putting both legs out in front of me and folding over them. I talk with my face almost touching my legs, which makes lying easier. “I said that I felt something, but when he didn’t mention it ever again, I thought he felt nothing, and he said that he thought the same about me. Once we established that that wasn’t the case for either of us….” I pause here and let them fill in whatever they want to think happened. I decided on this story because it seems best to stick as close to the truth as possible.
“Wow, you guys are horrible communicators.” Simin laughs at the stubbornness of it all while she stretches her shoulder out.
“We’re working on it.” By lying to everyone else, too. Coach blows her whistle, and we all stand to do moving warmups. We line up at the base line and wait our turn to skip to the net and back. “It’s perfect timing, too, because in two weeks it’s the NFL Honors and Wyatt is getting the award for most sacks.”
“That will be so exciting and glamorous,” Simin exclaims, then launches up into a one-legged skip leaving me and Temi behind at the line.
Temi smiles at me and it makes my throat burn with worry. “I’m really happy for you guys.”
“Thank you.” I’m not sure what else I can say without my conscience taking over my body and spilling all the gory details. I imagine saying it out loud:it’s all fake. Then Temi would look at me, disappointed, not only for lying, but for stringing Wyatt along. This is too much to ask of a best friend—both her and him. The NFL Honors will be on national TV. Everyone will see us together and it will be a hell of a lot to unravel. But this is something I have to do. If I don’t try absolutely everything to get this volleyball league up and offthe ground, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. Obviously, they’ve hired a staff, but just like volleyball is a team sport, this is an all-hands-on-deck situation.
Coach’s whistle blows again, knocking me out of my spiraling thoughts and making me realize it’s my turn. I almost held up the line. That’s no way to get to a championship game. Worrying about the future on the sideline—especially when it’s a future I can still change.
Chapter Fifteen
WYATT
The NFL Honors are always hosted in the same city as the Super Bowl. I’m a little pissed to be in Dallas for the awards show when we could have been here for the game if the Hurricanes hadn’t blown it in the playoffs. But I’m also relieved that I’m here with Nash. I guess I’m lucky she wanted to make this her first event of our deal so I don’t have to fly solo.
The drive up here was nice. It gave Nash and me some time to go over the plan for tonight. I think she felt guilty about hijacking my speech, but I would have mentioned her even if we weren’t faking a relationship. Slipping in the Moons will be easy.
What won’t be easy is hauling all this luggage from my truck into the hotel. When I pull the third bag out, I have to saysomething. “You know we’re only here for one night, right?”
Nash looks around like she’s trying to find the answer to my obvious question. “I know.”
“Then why do you have ten suitcases?”
“There’s only three bags! And my dress takes up one on its own!” She cries. “Men never understand the importance of overpacking.” She looks pointedly at my suit in its dry cleaner bag and my single backpack.
We manage to shuffle all our shit into the lobby to check in. The hotel has gigantic chandeliers, and the smell of BBQ wafts through from the in-house restaurant. I make a mental note to check that out before the event. They never serve enough food at those fancy places. I’d have to eat ten of those fancy event dinners to feel anything.
The receptionist, a middle-aged woman with heavy makeup and dark hair, greets us as we walk up. “Howdy, welcome to Hotel De Armas. Can I get your name to check you in, hun?”
I step up to the counter. “Wyatt Vandergriff.”
Her extra-long nails click clack on the keys as she types. “Okay, I see you right here. Perfect.” She reaches for a key card and a pen, smacking her gum as she smiles at Nash over my shoulder. “Here you are, hun. That’s room 313; you’re going to want to take the Aggie hallway to the Longhorn elevator and go up to floor three.”
My stomach drops to my balls. “One room?”
“Yes, sir. The NFL booked one king-size room for those in attendance. I’m sure they assumed any plus one was a partner? Unless otherwise specified.” She looks back at Nash, carrying her long dress bag. She’s smiling at me because for all intents and purposes, we’re together. We look like a couple; we are supposed to be a couple. I did not consider what that might entail when it comes to sleeping arrangements. The thought makes my face heat. I want people to look at her and think we’re together, and for our plan, that is important, but for some reason it makes mystomach flip. I chance a glance at Nash, and she just shrugs her shoulders.
I take the card from her outstretched claws. “Thank you,” I glance at her nametag, “Helen.”
“You’re welcome, hun. Ya’ll enjoy your stay.”
We gather our stuff and turn to walk away. As soon as we’re a couple steps out of hearing range, I say, “I’m so sorry. I can take you to another hotel and pay for your room there if you want. I had no idea this was one room, I swear.”
She laughs and puts a hand on my arm. “Relax, Wyatt. We’re already sharing your house. We can share a room. There are no secrets between us.”
I laugh, but it comes out breathy and nervous. “Totally. Not weird at all.”
Sharing a room with the woman you’re fake dating, but harboring real feelings for, is not as fun as it sounds. I got about three minutes in the bathroom before she was kicking me out, claiming she needed the entire two hours we have to get ready. She took her toiletries, a hair weapon of some kind, the dress bag, and many other odds and ends in there with her. Leaving me to lie on the king-size bed and flip through the cable channels. After getting sucked into the basketball game that was on, I’m shocked when I notice how much time has passed.
I grab my suit out of the bag and start to get dressed. I’m going to have to get in that bathroom to fix my hair one way or another. I could do it at the very last second, but hopefully Nash doesn’t make me wait until then.
I’m tying the laces on my fancy shoes when the bathroomdoor opens. I’m immediately hit with a tsunami of smells from all the products.
Then I see Nash and I forget how to speak.