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Dropping my fist and settling back into my seat, I see Tyler pull out his phone and start working, and I pull mine out of my back pocket when it dings rapidly with multiple incoming text messages.

Emily: Why is Shepherd asking me if you have an allergy to dryer sheets?

Emily: And for that matter, why is Palmer asking me if it would be weird if he rearranged all of your Nikes in color-order?

Shepherd: Look at this stud! He wears that shirt like a beast! *photo attachments*

Shepherd: FYI: Shirts make Crouton mad. His claws are REALLY sharp. I think I got all the blood off the carpet.

Laughing to myself when I see Shepherd has sent me three different photos of Crouton wearing a little sparkly cat shirt that says I am small and sensitive. But also, fight me, I thank him for helping out and tell him I owe him a beer, before explaining the cat feeding situation to Emily.

Setting my phone down on the seat when I’m finished replying to everyone, I stare out the window at the quickly passing landscape as the driver gets on the ramp to take us to the highway, looking forward to getting this last interview over with, so I can get to my “fake girlfriend” faster.

“Another glass of champagne for you.”

“Hey, what about me?” I complain when Tyler hands Emily a glass that he just brought back from the bar for her.

“Are your arms broken? Get your own drink.” Emily smiles at me before thanking Tyler and taking a sip.

“We should have brought you around ages ago. You’re fun.” Tyler smiles at her, clinking his glass of bourbon against her champagne flute.

True to his word, Tyler has done nothing but kiss Emily’s ass all night. Starting with being in the parking lot when we pulled up and opening Emily’s door to help her out of the vehicle. He’s lucky he’s like a brother to me and I don’t really fancy killing him. Any other man would have found my fist lodged in his throat with the look Tyler gave her when she stepped out of the car. I’m pretty sure it was the same look that was on my face when she first stepped off the ferry ramp. Eyes wide, jaw dropped, with a little drool dripping down my chin, and an instantly hard cock. She looked like Jessica Rabbit, with her long, red hair wavy and flowing down over her shoulders, wearing that skintight black dress from the APL charity dinner I mentioned I liked when I admitted to creeping on her pictures. The black dress that clings to all her curves and pushes up a mouth-watering amount of cleavage, with a pair of super high black heels that bring her full, shiny pink lips closer to mine when we’re standing together. The fact that Emily didn’t hold a grudge after how shitty Tyler was with her the first time they met, and she killed him with kindness all night long, definitely threw Tyler for a loop and shockingly put him on his best behavior.

“You were right, and I was wrong. Are you happy now? She’s perfect,” Tyler says, stepping up next to me when Emily starts chatting with another player’s wife.

“I know she is,” I reply, setting my empty beer bottle on a passing waiter’s tray and shoving my hands into the front pockets of my suit pants.

She’s more than perfect. And her experience with the Vipers taught her exactly what to do and whose ass to kiss at charity events. She has dazzled everyone tonight with her charm and quick wit, fitting in effortlessly with the other players’ wives and girlfriends like she’s been hanging out with them for years. Her busting of my teammates’ balls has endeared her to them forever, and the way she easily steers the conversation away from her when the press start asking her personal questions, relaying my stats and talking about how hard I’ve been working to make this a great season, has completely endeared her to Tyler and every other member of my team with the Sharks organization.

And the fact that she could so easily rattle my stats off the top of her head, when I sometimes still have to look them up, made me so goddamn hard I had to excuse myself to step outside and take a couple of deep breaths of fresh air.

The Sharks GM even gave her his personal phone number and told her to call him if I messed things up, because he has a son who’s single. I tried not to be offended by that and just be happy that when I told Emily everyone would like her more than me, I was right. Just like I told her parents at dinner two weeks ago, she’s a rock star. She completely amazes me. And I can’t believe she lets me be in the same room with her.

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