Quarterback Keeper (Fall Lake Ballers #1)

Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

GIA

R ent-free? I wanted to jump on his offer, to just say yes. Good thing I wasn’t as na?ve as I used to be. He was a man. A stranger. I couldn’t trust him. I’d learned that lesson far too well.

He hadn’t moved from the bed, but I didn’t buy the way he’d done that to appear less intimidating. I knew his impressive stats—and that ESPN loved every inch of his six-foot-three and hundred eighty-five pounds of pure muscle. According to them, so would the upcoming draft. Kylian Wilder was going places. None that included me. So, where do I fit in?

“What’s the catch?” I couldn’t help it. I bit—out of stupid curiosity and, the real driving factor, pure desperation.

“I have a few questions before I explain my proposition.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

The movement put him closer. My stupid heart rate kicked into a gallop, and I fought the urge to retreat a step. He took up too much damn space as it was. A weird energy crackled between us—nothing I wanted to look into. He was a reminder of temptation that I wouldn’t give into. I couldn’t afford to fall from such heights again.

“Is there a warrant out for your arrest?”

Fair question. “No.”

“How old are you?”

“I’m not underage.” Where is he going with this?

“You look young. I’m not sure I believe you. I’ll want to see a driver’s license.” He scanned my body. “For now, tell me your age.”

Fine. “Twenty-one.”

“What’s your full legal name?”

“Why?” I wasn’t comfortable with that territory. “What will you do if I tell you?”

“If you aren’t wanted by the police, it’s a fair question.”

Maybe. Can I trust him? As badly as things could have gone with him finding me, nothing had happened. And I didn’t sense malicious vibes. His confidence and authority—not the bad kind that I was used to—eased some of my fear. I opened my mouth to tell him. Nothing came out. I couldn’t do it. “Tell me why first. I don’t know you, and I have no reason to trust you.”

He studied me, and a shiver raced through my already-alert body. He looked at me as if he could see all my carefully guarded secrets, and I didn’t want him inside.

“I want you to pretend to be my girlfriend then my wife.”

“What?” That came out a little louder than I’d expected. Still… “Your wife?” A bitter laugh fell from my lips. “QB1, you’re out of your ever-lovin’ mind if you think I’ll pretend to be your wife.” I stepped forward then caught myself. He was crazy, and I needed to keep my wits about me—and distance between us.

“Let me clarify.” He straightened, pushing his elbows off his knees, but stayed seated. “I don’t want you to pretend. I want to present you to my mom as my girlfriend, then I’ll fake propose. We’ll get married and stay together for as long as my mom lives.”

I snapped my mouth closed. I hadn’t realized it was hanging open. “What’s wrong with you?” For real, though, what’s wrong with him that he would need me—a stranger—to marry him? “The answer is no.”

“We can help each other.” He paused, and something warred through his eyes before he seemed to reach a decision. “My mom is sick, and I don’t know how long she has left. Her biggest wish is to see me married. It’ll take me years to find someone else, date, and marry them. I don’t have that kind of time.”

“I’m sorry about your mom, but that’s not my problem.”

“No, it isn’t. But a place to stay is. And maybe money too?”

I felt the sucker punch as if it were real. He had my number, but I wasn’t the only one with an ace up my sleeve—he needed me just as badly. “Why me? Don’t you have any female friends who can do this? Aren’t there thousands of jersey chasers who’ll happily be Mrs. Saturday Afternoon Quarterback Keeper?”

“Yeah, there are.”

He smirked, making me frown. Cocky much?

“But they’ll want it to be real. This, between us, is a business arrangement. I need someone who is no-nonsense and understands that a deal is a deal.”

That, I could get behind. “What do I get out of this arrangement? A place to live, obviously, but what else?” If I could get more out of him, I was not above exploiting him for it. He owned the boat, even if his daddy bought it for him. I bet he had access to lots of money. I’d blown through what little I’d managed to take with me, and I could use some in case I had to make another quick exit.

“I’ll pay you to do whatever I need”—he rolled his eyes at my narrowed gaze—“not sexual, and we’ll split amicably when it’s over.”

“And when will that be?”

That muscle along his jaw ticked, and… Are his eyes getting red?

“When my mom dies.”

My heart lurched as his words pierced my mind. Grief broke as clear as day on his face. The wall barricading his emotions dropped, giving me a breath-stealing glimpse into his pain. For our negotiation, he let me see it all, and God, I felt for him. I was no stranger to death and loss.

“I hate to ask this”—my stomach churned and rebelled—“but in reference to the business deal, how long does she have?”

“Months.” He cleared his throat then scrubbed his hands over his face. “It could be one month or six.”

I blinked back tears for a woman I didn’t even know. Getting ahold of my emotions, I turned the conversation back to business. “What are the terms with living arrangements? If this is your daddy’s boat, won’t he take offense to me staying on it?” Because I had a suspicion that even if it was a gift from his dad, it could be snatched back.

“If that becomes a problem, you’ll move in with me.”

“And where do you live? Do you have roommates?”

“I live in a three-bedroom condo. There’s a doorman, and I have two roommates.”

“Both footballers?”

At his nod, my mind spun. More muscle. More safety. It might help keep Dayton at bay once he found out where I was—and he would. Because he was relentless when he wanted something, and he thought of me as his—bought and paid for.

“Well?”

“I just… Give me a minute.” I paced along the edge of the bed in front of him. The money would be nice. And the security. If he followed through with the deal, it would be a fair one for both of us, one he couldn’t go back on because I could take it public or sue. And I bet his father wouldn’t want that kind of publicity. I stopped in front of him, my decision made. “Fine. Let’s negotiate.”

A slow grin curved his firm lips, and all I could think about was how they would feel, which was all kinds of wrong. I told myself I didn’t want him—or any man, for that matter—touching me. When he stood, towering over me, my pulse spiked for reasons I didn’t want to identify. He came back to the bed with a notebook and pen. I sat across from him.

An hour later, notes scribbled over several pages defined the finer points of our agreement.

“I’m not having sex with you.”

“I didn’t say anything about sex, Gia. However, we have to look like we’re intimate when we’re out in public or around my parents.”

“What exactly do you mean? Hand-holding?” Please let it just be that.

“Yes, and kissing in public.”

“I don’t like it.”

“It’s nonnegotiable.”

I could see his point, but I wished it weren’t necessary. For the added security, to be safe, I would deal with it. “Fine. What else?”

“Dinner once a week with my mom.”

That didn’t feel right. “Twice a week, since this is all for your mom anyway.”

He studied me in that too-close way he had. “Do you have family?”

“No.”

He put down the pen. “Are you enrolled in college? It might be easier to transfer you to Fall Lake University.”

“I was in college somewhere else. I don’t want to enroll again.”

“You can stay on the boat unless something happens and you don’t feel safe.”

“What do you mean?” Could he know? Does he know Dayton? Is this a setup?

“The lock is broken.”

“Oh.” Air whooshed from my lungs. “Yeah, I’m okay. You’re the only one who’s come on board since I started staying here.”

“How long has that been?”

“Just under two weeks.”

He took it in stride, and I was able to breathe easy.

“You might need to move in with me when we’re engaged. It depends on how things pan out with my dad being my dad.”

“What does that even mean?”

“The less time you spend alone with him, the better.”

Yeah, we would have to circle back around to that eventually. “If I have to move into your place, I’m not cooking for you. Or cleaning up after you. Or doing your laundry.”

“I’m capable of doing all that myself. As for cleaning, I have a housekeeper who comes in once a week.”

“Just shows that I was right with my first assessment.”

He locked gazes with me, and I felt the heat like the three feet between us didn’t exist. I leaned back an inch. Didn’t matter. I planned to keep him on his toes and physically as far away from me as possible.

“Spoiled rich kid.”

The air felt charged, but he didn’t rise to my bait. “My lawyer will draw up the contract with the terms we’ve agreed to here. There’ll be a prenup and a payout guarantee once the divorce is final.”

“And how much will that be?”

“Fifty grand.”

That could get me out of the country and living somewhere Dayton’s reach didn’t extend. “If you’re using a lawyer, I’m guessing he’s from dear old Dad. How do you expect to keep our arrangement a secret?”

“My lawyer isn’t associated with my dad. No one will ever know, so long as you do your part, sign the NDA, and don’t speak about our agreement.”

I nodded, exhaustion washing over me despite the short nap I’d taken earlier. It was the adrenaline from getting caught. It’d drained what little energy I’d managed to recoup. “Is there anything else?”

“If there is, we’ll amend the original contract. Add your signature on this one to keep the details between us. My lawyer will have everything prepared and ready to sign by tomorrow night. I’ll come find you when I have it.”

My heart thudded loudly in my ears, a fast-paced clock ticking down to a decision I couldn’t make lightly. If I went forward with our deal, I would be locked in. I pinched the pen tightly between my fingers, hesitating as I weighed my options. I didn’t have many, and what he proposed wasn’t to be taken lightly.

I dropped the pen like it was hot. “I need more time to think about this.”

Several seconds passed before he responded, adding to the frantic pounding of my pulse.

“Okay, I get it. Sleep on it.” He tapped the papers then stood and moved toward the door leading to the upper deck. “I’ll be back at six in the morning. I’ll need your decision then.”

T he evening crawled as I waffled over what I should do—sign the document or run. The last thing I wanted was to put anyone at risk. Because if my asshole ex, Dayton, found out anyone was helping me, coming between him and who he thought belonged to him, there would be hell to pay—for all parties involved.

I flopped onto my stomach, glad the boat was docked once again. It was truly the safest place for me to stay. Dayton wouldn’t go anywhere near water—his one true kryptonite, since he couldn’t swim. That alone had almost been reason enough for me to sign Kylian’s terms.

Throughout the night and into the early-morning hours, I stalked Dayton online to ensure he wasn’t in pursuit. I liked knowing he was back where he belonged, which was far from me.

It wasn’t until three in the morning that I came across the article about a huge gala and noticed one photograph in particular. My hands shook as I held my phone, studying Dayton’s arm around Cynthia—the woman who used to chase him shamelessly whenever we ran into her at the society events like the one they were at.

Could he have moved on?

It took reading the article three times to find the small notice about Cynthia Thompson attending a high-society gala with my ex. We had been together for a year, and for the past six months, I’d been on the run. Could it finally be over?

Even if it was—and I wasn’t positive he would give up that easily—I wouldn’t push my luck and wave a flag with my location on it or drop my guard completely. It would be safer to stay on the water and stick with Kylian’s added muscle and notoriety.

The papers Kylian had written our mutual terms on were within arm’s reach. He was due to arrive in a mere two hours, but I didn’t have to wait. Not any longer. After pulling them into my lap along with the pen, I signed, giving up my last name on paper. We had a deal.