Page 18 of Her Game Plan

Another beat passes.

“Princess…?” I drawl.

Her eyes meet mine, a thick line of dark green circled by golden brown. “I need your help.”

My heart stops. The words ricocheting throughout my skull.

Charlotte stands, a lithe movement made more impressive by the sky-high heels she has on. “Let me explain.”

I shake my head. I don’t need her to explain.

“Please.” She places her hand lightly on my chest. “I can—”

I cut her off, grabbing the hand touching me and holding it. “The answer is yes.”

“What?” Her expression is confused, almost distrustful.

“You obviously need help if you’re coming to me. So, the answer is yes. Unless you need a kidney.”

She tilts her head. “You wouldn’t give me a kidney?”

I run a hand through my hair. “Well, I’d have to think about it if it’s a kidney. Or any internal organ. I don’t think they’d let me play football with only one kidney, but I don’t know that for certain. So, I’d have to look into it.”

“Are you telling me that, as long as you wouldn’t miss out on playing football, you’d give me, a person who you only peripherally know, a kidney? Just because I asked?” She pulls her hand from mine, using it to massage her temple. “Shit. Now I feel worse about asking you to do this.”

“Could you maybe, ask me? So then we can be on the same page?” I have no idea what Charlotte wants, though I’m pleased we’ve ruled out it being a kidney, but it’s confusing me that she’s more upset that I said yes than that I said no.

She twists the pearl earring in her left ear before blurting out, “Will you fake date me?”

What?

If I had listed my top twenty guesses as to what Charlotte needed, that wouldn’t have been anywhere near the list. Particularly the fake part.

“What?” I splutter.

Charlotte looks around my room as if searching for an answer. “I need someone—no, scratch that, I need you to fake date me.”

“Why?” I search her face as if it might give me the explanation that she won’t. “I mean, why do you want to fake date me? I understand wanting to date me. I don’t understand wanting to do all the hard parts of a relationship without any of the fun. Not that I’m much of a relationship expert.”

Her nose crinkles, this time giving disgusted vibes. “Don’t say things like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you understand why people would want to date you.” She juts her hip out as she speaks, the pink skirt of her dress swaying invitingly.

I pull my gaze away from that slice of skin on her upper thigh. “But I do understand that part. I mean, look at me. I’m a professional athlete with more money than God.”

“I don’t think God is known for being particularly wealthy. Can’t take it with you when you go and what not.”

“Princess.” I lightly grab her upper arms, making her look at me. “Can you please focus on your request? Fine, you want to fake date me, okay. I’m in. Can you please explain why? And what it means?”

She twists that earring again. “I really thought it was going to be harder to convince you.”

“Why? I like helping people if I can. And I’m not dating someone at the moment, so it seems easy enough to date you.”

“Fake date, Callan.”

“Okay, and how does fake dating differ from real dating?”