A few hours later we stood outside the stadium.

“Okay, so you know what you have to do?” Aspen asked.

I scowled. “Play nice is what you call it?”

“Yes. Play nice with everyone. The press. Your teammates. The water boy. It doesn’t matter. From here on out, we are completely changing your optics.”

I couldn’t believe I had come up with this scheme. This morning was worth it. She was fucking incredible. But I didn’t want to suck up to the assholes inside the dressing room. I also couldn’t believe I was letting her call the shots.

She had clamped on to the idea like an eagle with its talons and started running with it. I was impressed. And scared like hell.

“It’s not me. They’ll see through it,” I argued. “I’ve never been a nice bloke.”

“It’s going to be the new you. By the time you leave Rio you’ll have an entirely new image. They’ll love you. You’ll have so many endorsement offers you won’t be able to keep them off of you.” She flattened the front of my dress shirt. I had balked when she demanded I dress up for my arrival at practice.

“And if I don’t want that?” I asked.

She pinched her brows together. “Do you want my help or not?”

I groaned. “I fucking need it. Okay?”

She crossed her arms. “Then remember out here, I’m in charge. We both have a stake in this relationship.”

I wrapped an arm around her waist and grabbed her ass. “And in bed, I’m charge of this.”

I eyed her, knowing that under this skirt was the cutest arse I’d ever seen.

“This isn’t part of the image.” She swatted at me. “You can’t grope me in front of everyone. Proper boyfriends don’t do that.”

“I never said I’d be a proper boyfriend.” I winked.

I released her, but felt I had shifted the power back in my direction. I grinned. Maybe it would work after all. As far as fake girlfriends went—I had scored epically. She was smart, sassy, and sexy as fuck.

“Go. You don’t want to be late. That’s the first thing that has to change. No more tardiness.” She wagged a finger in my direction. “You are here for your country. It shows respect to be on time.”

I was tempted to grab her again, but I knew I was already testing my limits with her.

I looked up at the stadium. Today felt different. It helped I didn’t have a raging hangover. And I had this overwhelming sense that I had someone in my corner for the first time in a long time.

Aspen had her own motives. I wasn’t a prat about it, but there was sincerity under her skin I detected beneath the designer suits and the business talk. She was a bright woman and she didn’t bullshit me like everyone else.

I took one step inside the fence before the first reporter came out from behind the bushes. Where in the hell did these wankers hide?

“Lach, what’s your statement on hitting a member of the paparazzi?”

I felt the anger grip my shoulders. Who in the hell did this guy think he was? I pursed my lips, but before I could spit out a comment, I felt Aspen’s hands glide around my bicep.

“Mr. Kenzie is here for practice. Maybe we could set up an interview later?” she suggested, flashing a beautiful smile at the bugger.

“Are you his publicist?” he asked. “We heard he’s no longer represented by an agent.”

“Me? No, I’m his…” She looked into my eyes, searching for the words.

“This is my girlfriend.” I pulled her into an embrace.

“Girlfriend? Can I get a name?”

I felt her tense in my arms, but this was what we decided. I needed a respectable woman on my arm.

“Her name is Aspen Pitch and I’d appreciate it if you’d give her some space.”

“How long have you been dating? What did you think about the video with Lach and the Brazilian girl?” he asked her.

“Lachlan really needs to get inside. How about another time?”

She wiggled free and reached up to kiss me on the cheek.

I threw her a wicked smile before planting a deep kiss on her mouth. She squealed, but I didn’t let go, despite the way she squirmed to break free. The photographer snapped a few pictures while I kissed the hell out of her.

“See you after practice, love.”

Her lips came together in a pout.

I walked through the tunnel into the dressing room for the UK team. I wasn’t used to being the first one in to practice. I wondered if too many things were changing too quickly.

Yesterday everything had come crashing down. Today I was a new man. At least that was what I had to convince everyone.

No more drinking. No more women. No more slugging the press.

I was here for Mother England and her football fans.

“Look who decided to show up.” Alex whistled behind me.

I gritted my teeth. “The kits are here today.” I held up my red and blue uniform.

“They were here yesterday if you had stuck around to see them get delivered.”

I wanted to shove mine up this prick’s ass, but I couldn’t start a fight five minutes after I walked away from Aspen. She’d be pissed and I wasn’t going back on our deal—not after this morning. Not after we shagged like we did.

He sat across from me and started unlacing his boots.

Practice was going to suck.

* * *

Two hours later, I headed out of the stadium. Aspen was waiting for me by the gate along with a pack of reporters. I had showered and wore the suit she had chosen for me. The collar was itchy. I tugged at it, trying to breathe. I missed my T-shirt.

She smiled as I grew closer.

“How was practice?” she asked.

“Brilliant.”

Her hand fit perfectly through my arm as if she belonged next to me. She grinned up at me.

“That’s all?”

“How did things go out here?” She was going to try to do damage control on the reporter incident from yesterday. I wanted to know if she was as good as Rick at cleaning up my image.

“I think I made some progress,” she whispered.

“Then it sounds like we’re both keeping our end of the deal.”

Alex and Taylor started answering questions about practice.

“Why don’t you join in?” Aspen whispered. “It will help. Just smile and try not to punch anyone, okay?”

I chuckled. I could never make those kinds of promises.

“All right,” I agreed.

I strutted forward and stood next to my teammates. I looked over my shoulder at Aspen. She had shoved me straight into the lion’s mouth.