12. JOSH
JOSH
I should have stopped listening and followed Kev out of the training room, but I didn’t.
I heard April on the phone and it sounded like she was trying to get out of something.
Her voice wavered and she gnawed at her thumb.
All of it told me this was way worse than she was letting on.
I didn’t know much about her situation, except that she needed someone and I damn well understood sibling rivalry.
I thought it was ridiculous to prove you had someone in your life, but I was in an equally messy situation.
If there was one thing in common about what we both had going on, it was that April and I knew the thrill of the win.
I just didn’t want her winning with anyone from our locker room.
She was too good for them, too smart and funny, and she was too good for me. That was for damn sure.
But all I could think about on my walk home after our game was what I had suggested to April at the coffee shop.
It would work for both of us. If only I had a moment with her to see how she was feeling with all of it.
The problem was that the team had been traveling since then and she had Moose take over my therapy, which was bothersome, so I hadn’t had the chance to see her, to talk about it.
Was it ridiculous? Us fake dating? I had no idea, I’d never done it before.
Both of us were running out of time and I needed to make her see it wouldn’t be so bad if we did this. It could be a win-win. If we dated, then I could get the guys off my back, and she could prove to her sister whatever she needed to.
I’d hoped I would run into April on my way home, but her friend had shown up and I didn’t want to intrude.
I stayed longer in the gym, gaining courage to just freaking talk to her.
I couldn’t let it go, no matter how hard I tried.
Fuck it. I needed to talk to her. The stadium had emptied, except for security and a few of the managers, when I’d left.
The streets were still busy; cars were gridlocked around the sky-high condo towers.
The different sounds of music and loud conversations carried throughout the buildings like an echo off a cliff.
I dug out my headphones to drown out the sounds and focus on my task at hand, making April my fake girl.
I waved to the concierge on my way to the elevator, but I didn’t press the button for my floor.
I was doing this. When the doors opened on the sixth floor, I walked down the long corridor to April’s apartment, stopping briefly when I caught a glance at my hair sticking up from the breeze.
Smoothing it down, I felt my nerves buzz. Why the hell was I so nervous?
I reached her door and gave it a soft knock, stepping back when it dawned on me that I hadn’t checked the time.
Fuck. Worrying that I might have woken her or interrupted something else, I hoped she hadn’t heard the knock.
The latch clicked and the chain slid from inside as I told myself I shouldn’t have come.
Her door opened a crack, but just enough for me to notice she wasn’t wearing a bra under her oversized Hello Kitty t-shirt.
My gaze immediately slid from her thick thighs and luscious curves, to the thin fabric that did nothing to hide her hardened nipples.
She coughed, snapping up my attention from her chest to her piercing olive eyes.
They were hooded with fatigue and didn’t hold the same glow as always.
April chuffed when she realized it was me, rolling her eyes and leaning against the doorframe.
“I don’t have the energy for this tonight,” she uttered.
“I’m not here for drama,” I explained, spreading my hand on the door panel and inching closer. She narrowed her tired stare at me. Yikes! “What happened between work and now?”
She sighed heavily. “Nothing.” I could tell that wasn’t the whole truth. My eyes narrowed at her. “Fine. Family stuff.”
Perfect! Just the in I needed. She cleared her throat. “So, what made you stop by at ten thirty?”
“I was just thinking about you and me,” I blurted, my eyes lifting from her bare legs to her gaping mouth.
The admission surprised me and I could tell from her widened eyes that she was caught off guard, too.
“The, um… What we talked about at the coffee shop… I think…” I moved my gaze to her mouth.
My voice died in my throat. Jesus, what was wrong with me?
Her brow rose as she watched me shifting side to side on my feet. “Finish what you were saying.”
That was hard to do the longer she stood there, a hundred dirty things raced through my mind. Not now. Professional. A deal. I repeated in my head. Refocusing my attention on my task.
“I can, maybe, do this for you. For us.”
April’s gaze lifted from the floor to my eyes, a glimmer of hope flashing with her quiet thoughts. She opened her apartment door, motioning for me to step inside. Following her into the small foyer and past two closed doors, I noted how empty her condo was when we reached the living room.
“Did you just move in?” I asked, stuffing my hands into the pockets of my sweatpants.
“No. When I signed on with the team,” she answered, glancing around the place.
That was over a year ago. She must not be one for sentimental stuff. “We make it work.” She shrugged. “This is what a two bedroom gets you.”
Two bedrooms? It was nothing like my corner suite. It was maybe a fourth of the size.
And I only had a one bedroom, plus a den that was a small office area I never used. April must have read my mind because she added, “I thought it was bigger when I bought it, but that’s my fault for rushing into it.”
“Rushing?”
“I was about to take an offer in Boston when this one came in. It was very last minute,” she explained.
I don’t think I could have imagined our team without April as our physiotherapist. She was one of the best in the league.
Her skills were phenomenal and her technique with her hands was like magic.
It didn't surprise me that she would be wanted elsewhere.
“What made you choose us?”
“I wanted to stay close to home at the time.” She bit her bottom lip and, while it did things to me, I wondered what she was hiding. There must’ve been more to her story about wanting to stay close.
“Because of a guy?” I pressed.
“As always,” she muttered, motioning around the living room and kitchen combo. She pointed to a small island. “Couch or stool?”
“Stool is fine,” I replied, taking a seat.
I watched her round the other side of the counter and prop her hip against it. It was clear she was keeping her distance.
“You came all the way down here to convince me that you can maybe help me.”
She was going to be tough. I ran my fingers through my hair and sighed. “I will help you.” She looked skeptical. “We both need something. I need a girlfriend and you need a guy. And since our luck seems to be worse than Kev’s batting average…” She smirked.
I continued, “This arrangement would work. We lock into it. I show up for you and you for me.”
“But this could go horrible if people found out we’re faking it. I could lose my job over it.”
“You think I’d let you get fired for pretending to be my girlfriend?” I questioned, even though I understood her concern. The strict no-mingling policy for the team was brought in over a decade ago after some harassment suit that none of us knew anything about.
“We both know how the system works and the Twisters will choose their star player over the team’s physiotherapist,” she argued.
“You make a valid point. But if this works the way we need it to, then that won’t happen. The guys will protect us. Even when they’re dicks, they won’t let anything happen to our careers.”
She blew out a long breath, her bangs flying out of her face. “Okay. Where do we start?”
“We start where it’s easy, like right now. Hang out, then start talking more at work. Maybe we have a few run-ins and people will pick up on something. If we keep it relatively hush-hush, then we might be okay.”
She nodded like she was mulling it over. “What do you gain if we’re not public?”
“That’s the beauty of it. I’m not allowed to be.” Her nose scrunched up, which was too freaking cute. “It’s Carlos’s rules.”
“Seems odd.”
“Have you met Carlos?”
She let out the cutest snort-chuckle and quickly covered her nose. Fuck. That was another thing she did that I thought had always been adorable, but I felt sad for her when I realized I couldn’t remember the last time she laughed so innocently.
“The deal with Carlos works in this case. I was supposed to meet someone online, so they couldn’t know who I was, build a real connection. Only after having one, could I come out with who I was.”
“Hhmm.” She lolled her head back and forth. “That is clever. So, even if you say you’ve met someone, you don’t need real proof?”
“There’s proof. Phone calls, texts, emails, stuff like that.”
Her eyes lit up. “Do I get a code name?”
I laughed. “You want a code name?”
“Sure.”
“Alright then. Muffin?” Her nose scrunched in disgust. “Hotcakes?”
“What’s with the food names?”
I shrugged. “I dunno. Isn’t that what people do?”
“No. Haven’t you ever been in a relationship?”
I scratched my jaw, contemplating how honest to be.
“How is this going to work if you don’t even know what you’re doing?!”
I chuckled. “It’s not rocket science. I got this.”
“Josh,” she groaned, “I need you to be serious. This means a lot to me.”
I paused, watching her for a moment. Her hair was loose and flowy, her skin a creamy, peach color and there was the tiniest hint of freckles that I’d never noticed because of her makeup.
She was irresistible and reminded me of last year at that Ribfest, how she’d caught me off guard.
It made me realize, for the second time, she wasn’t just my co-worker.
She was a hot woman standing there in only her shirt, her painted-black toenails that signaled the bit of rebellion in her. It did me in.
I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to compose myself. “I know exactly what it means to you.”
April glanced sideways, biting her lip again as she probably doubted me.
I hadn’t given her much reason to believe me, I guess.
Taking a deep breath, I slipped from the stool and walked around the counter to her.
April stood to meet me, her olive stare eyeing me with caution. I needed to prove I was serious.
So, while she nervously twisted her fingers, I leaned closer and cupped my hands around her cheeks.
Lowering my mouth to hers, her sweet scent flooding my nerves, I kissed April.
And we didn’t stop. The kiss was soft and gentle at first, but we went deeper when her mouth parted.
My dick thickened against my gym shorts and I reluctantly ended our kiss.
Her cheeks were stained hot pink. She was barely able to speak. “What was that?” she asked breathily.
“A kiss.”
She swatted at me.
I laughed. “Because I want you to know that I need you. This. Us. And I’m all in.”
She shuddered. Like, fucking shuddered at my words. It had me feeling all kinds of ways about how she should be treated. “I’m going to be the best fake boyfriend you’ve ever had.” She made a nonsensical, throaty noise that made me grin. “We’re walking in together tomorrow.”
“Isn’t that a bit much?”
“Nope.” I smirked. “See you tomorrow! And I’ll think of a better code name.”
“You better.” She smirked as I walked away.
The image of the deep blush on her cheeks caused by me, had me wanting to do so much more to see how far the blush could go.
But really, what I needed to do was remember that the kiss was proof that I’d need to control myself better around her.
I already wanted more than a fake relationship allowed.