It’s the same crazy idea Tori had.
I think about Logan’s constant attention, Grayson’s comments, the endless parade of guys who suddenly have “tight hamstrings” that need personal attention, and how I can’t walk through the facility without feeling watched.
Then I think about Banks. The way the room went silent when he told Grayson to shut up, how nobody argued, and how even the cockiest guys on the team seem to give him a wide berth.
He’s right. They wouldn’t mess with something—someone—they thought was his.
“This is insane,” I say.
“Probably.”
“This is the kind of thing that happens in bad romantic comedies.”
“I wouldn’t know. I don’t watch romantic comedies.”
“Of course you don’t.” I press my fingers to my temples, trying to think. “Okay. Walk me through this. What would it actually look like?”
He seems relieved that I’m not immediately saying no. “Public only. We act like we’re together when other people are around. Hold hands. Stand close. Whatever couples do.”
“Whatever couples do,” I echo. “You sound like you’ve never been in a relationship.”
His jaw tightens again. “I haven’t. Not for a while.”
Something in his voice makes me pause. There’s a story there, but now isn’t the time to dig into it.
“What’s in it for you?” I ask instead. “Why do you care if the guys leave me alone?”
“I don’t—” He stops, starts again. “The team needs to focus. I need them to focus. This is a distraction, and distractions cost games. We have a playoff push coming up. I’m not letting a bunch of idiots who can’t keep it in their pants ruin our shot.”
It’s not exactly romantic, but it’s honest. And honestly? I respect it.
“What about your reputation?” I ask. “Won’t people think it’s weird? You and me?”
“People can think whatever they want.”
“But you’d be tied to me. Publicly. If this goes badly—”
“It won’t go badly.”
“How do you know that?”
He holds my gaze, steady and unblinking. “Because I don’t do things badly.”
The confidence is almost annoying. Almost.
“Who would know it’s fake?” I ask.
“Dana already knows. I talked to her before coming here.” He shifts his weight. “I’m assuming you’d want to tell Tori. She’d tell Zayden. Anyone else would be a risk.”
“How long would this last?”
“Until the end of playoffs. A few months, maybe. After that, we ‘break up.’” He makes air quoteswith his fingers, which looks ridiculous on someone his size. “Amicable split. No drama. Life goes back to normal.”
I chew on my lip, thinking. A few months of pretending to date Banks Callahan. A few months of holding hands, standing close, and acting like I’m his.
It’s not the worst thing I’ve ever heard.
It’s also notnotthe worst thing I’ve ever heard.
