What If

The next two days fly by.

Eden moves into the New Albany house, and so do I.

We’re able to spend a little time together before I have to leave for camp, though it’s mostly comprised of us putting away our crap and moving furniture around to our liking.

“No, I think the sofa should face this way.” Eden points to the wall with the TV. “Remember how the other night we had to sit on the floor to watch the game? It’s stupid that it faces that way.”

I totally agree, but hesitate to reply since I’m enjoying the view so much. Eden’s brow is creased in concentration, and she looks cute as hell. Her hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail and her hands are on her slender hips. Not to mention, her legs look amazing in the micro-shorts she’s wearing.

Now if she’d just turn around…

She does, to show me how we’d be able to see the TV so much better.

“Uh-huh,” I agree, my gaze glued to her shapely ass.

She turns back my way and I’m almost busted.

Good thing I’m quick.

And for the record, that sofa gets moved so quickly it’s not even funny.

“Is that better?” I ask once it’s in place, exactly where she wants it.

She murmurs a pleased, though somewhat distracted, “Mmm-hmm.”

When I spin around to see what’s up, I catch her staring at my body.

I’m all pumped from moving furniture, so I guess I look appealing to her. I am a little sweaty, though, but she doesn’t seem to mind.

Damn, I’d like to get sweaty with her while doing some other things.

I cock a brow to let her know I’ve totally caught her gawking, and she quickly looks away.

“Sorry,” she says.

“No, it’s all right.”

I start to go to her, but she holds up her hand. “No, Graham, don’t.”

I may have promised myself that we should keep our distance, but I’m heavily reconsidering.

So I ask her, “Why?”

She looks at me like I’m crazy. “What do you mean, why?”

“Eden, we may as well admit we’re attracted to one another. Why not act on it?”

“Are you serious right now?” She shakes her head like she can’t believe I’m suggesting such a thing. “Acting on it would be a horrible idea, Graham.”

Now it’s my turn to bristle. “Why? We’re supposed to be a couple anyway, right?”

“Yes, a pretend couple. Acting on it for real would just make things…uncomfortable.”

“Whatever,” I mumble.

She throws up her hands. “Graham, we don’t even know each other, not really. Our backstory in that stupid packet isn’t freaking real. None of that ever happened.”

“Okay, okay.” I back off. “I see your point.”

And I do, I think.

No, I do.

She’s right.

My first inclination was to keep this platonic and that’s the way to go. Acting on our attraction really would be a stupid idea. It’d put all sorts of pressure on us both, and I have enough pressure with training camp starting and the upcoming season on its way.

“Yeah, this is just a business arrangement,” I say softly, more to myself than to her.

She hears me, though, and the sadness in her tone is unmistakable when she says, “Yeah, it is.”

This is clearly confusing for both of us.

I guess that’s why, from that point on, we kind of avoid each other.

That’s fine because the next day I have to leave for training camp.

The next two weeks pass with no contact between us.

I think it’s for the best.

Eden has plenty of time to acclimate herself to the house without me being in the way. I hope she feels comfortable, like it’s her own space.

Thanks to the info in the folder, which I’ve pored over every chance I’ve had at camp, I’ve seen pictures of her apartment.

It looks really bare. And so small too. Her brother and she must feel cramped. I mean, there’s hardly room for one person, let alone two.

I guess she’s keeping it, though, so she can move back in when the team breaks us up.

At that thought, I’m reminded again of how crazy this is.

And it’s only just begun.

Speaking of which, the social media consultants the team hired have been busy. Not only have those photoshopped vacation pics been posted to both of our Instagram accounts, but somehow—I guess by using body doubles—the team staged “secretly captured” photos of Eden and me leaving the diner late at night during the summer.

Those are online now too.

It’s amazing what technology can do.

The fake photo that makes me laugh the most is one of a body-double Eden hiding her face as body-double me whisks her away in a dark blue Porsche Carrera.

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.