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“Ready to talk about our new relationship?” I asked, shifting my attention back to the road, trying to sound casual.

“Fake relationship,” she corrected. “This is only temporary, just until I can figure out another loophole or…maybe I’ll get HR to like me enough to break the rules.” Her voice trailed off as she stared out the window, watching as we passed the stark city buildings.

“Not likely. She’s a stickler,” I said truthfully, pulling Ari’s hand into my lap and linking our fingers. I did it without thinking.

By nature, I had this drive to take care of people. It had been that way since I was a kid, but it really kicked in when I hit high school, and understood how many things fell on my mom’s shoulders with my dad not around. There was this urge to comfort and support that lived inside me and, apparently, that instinct extended to Ari.

“Oh, great.” She sat there looking dejected, but she hadn’t pulled away like I thought she might.

I gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Hey, you’re not alone in this. We’ll both work on finding a solution. I might be able to get my dad to change the policy…”

“Really?” She perked up, surprise and hope evident in her tone. “That would be perfect. I mean, it’s a stupid rule anyway, and how does it make sense to have a policy about ex-relationships but not one about fraternization?”

Shit. I might have put my foot in my mouth. Convincing my dad to do anything that wasn’t his idea was…difficult.

I forced a half-smile, my chest tightening. “It’s possible,” I said carefully. “But he’s pretty set in his ways. We’ll need to prove you’re too valuable an asset to let go, even if we weren’t together.”

She nodded thoughtfully. There was this fire in her, this absolute drive to prove herself, and I admired it.

“That shouldn’t be hard. I’m a damn good strength coach.”

“Exactly. If he sees how much you bring to the team, he’ll have a harder time enforcing that stupid dating policy. Or ex-dating policy, whatever.”

I parked in my assigned spot, next to Monroe’s truck and Christian’s SUV, and felt the familiar pang of regret hit me in my chest. Ariella was right. I didn’t like folding my body into this car.

Sure, it was nice—expensive—but it wasn’t what I’d have chosen for myself.

It had been a signing gift from my dad, who insisted my other ride wasn’t a good look.

I don’t want you driving around in that thing, Dalton. Gives people the idea that I don’t pay my players well.

A prime example of how Vincent Langley was a difficult man to get to change his mind.

Ari’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. “Okay, next order of business to handle before we walk into our place of work as a sham couple,” she turned in her seat, facing me fully now that we were parked. “Let’s talk ground rules.”

SEVENTEEN

ARIELLA

*FERALLY CHEWS ON BOOK*

He just had to pick me up bearing gifts in the form of iced coffee and gray sweatpants, making it nearly impossible for me to concentrate on what I needed to talk to him about.

Gracie and I had stayed up all night going over my…situation. True to her nature, she’d broken out one of her fifty thousand notebooks and a pile of colorful pens so we could make a pro-con list and a code of conduct. She’d only agreed to help with the second part after I gave another play-by-play of every interaction between Dalton and me—again.

“What does he smell like?” she asked excitedly. Her legs crossed, chin in her hands.

“Like…” I paused, trying to figure out how to put his scent into words. “Well, I don’t fucking know how to describe it. What do I look like, an aromachologist? He just doesn’t smell like sweat, and I kinda wanna rub my nose on his chest.”

We’d reviewed the list this morning before Dalton picked me up.

Some of Gracie’s pros felt more like cons to me.

*Will pay for shit

*You can be his date to events

*He has a car, so you don’t have to RideOrder