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Eventually, she made her way into the room and stood over me, examining me, a crease between her brows. Hazel had distractingly thick eyelashes. They framed her moss green eyes perfectly, along with her chunky glasses.
They were intense eyes. Not sweet or sensual, but deep pools of green with hints of gray, hiding all sorts of secrets in their murky depths.
She was short and curvy and always wore Chucks. As a kid, she had been a tomboy, but now that look had morphed into something different. Womanly but cool. The tank she wore clung to her waist, ending just above the top of her pants. As she paced, still watching me with every turn, it slid up a bit, giving me a glimpse of the pale skin hiding beneath.
I chose my moment, forcing myself to look away from her bare flesh and focus on her face once again. “This is hard for me to admit, okay?” I ran my hand through my shaggy hair. “But I need your help. I’m a mess. I need someone to kick my ass and help me find my motivation again.”
Finally, she stopped. She placed her mug next to mine on the coffee table, then she crossed her arms and regarded me with pursed lips and a skeptical arch of one brow. “I’m not a cheerleader, Remy.”
Fuck, she was always right. Just another reason she’d made an excellent short-term wife. I needed to change tactics. How could I get her to accept my help?
“I know that. And I’m not asking for you to be a doting, simpering wifey who’ll build me up and cheer me on. I’m trying to change. To be more focused. And…” I paused, not wanting to say the next bit out loud. “And I worry that seeing Crystal and Cedric at competitions will derail me again.”
I watched her face soften.Jackpot.
“The truth is, I’m a mess. Being a pro athlete—that’s been my dream since I was a kid.And I’m finally in a place where it’s possible. But I know once the competition season starts up, I will see her.” I ran my hands through my hair. “And it would be a lot easier with you by my side.”
It wasn’t a lie. Seeing Crystal and Cedric would be shitty and probably not help my mental game going into competition season. Not because I was still in love with her, but because it would bring up all the guilt, shame, and frustration I felt after she left me. The anger at myself and the shame of what I put my family through. And I knew I probably wasn’t strong enough to stay focused, to stay on track.
Having Hazel by my side, it would help. I wasn’t exactly sure why. But in this moment, she felt essential. Her presence through all the ups and downs of training and competition would make a difference. I knew it.
“We’ve known each other forever, and we’ll make a good team.”
She eased onto the couch next to me, silently regarding me with curiosity, the wheels turning in her super-genius brain.
Though on the outside, what I was proposing was transactional—I’d help her, and she’d help me, and then we’d part ways—my heart was racing, and my hands were clenched. I wanted this. Marriage, Hazel, something different. Though I couldn’t be sure why. But my mind was going a hundred miles per hour, and I didn’t have time to stop and analyze it.
With a sigh, she covered my hand with hers. A tremor of excitement shot through me at her proximity. And the scent of her shampoo, citrusy and clean, along with the smoothness of her small hand, brought a wave of calm immediately after.
“You are talented. Have been since we were kids. Don’t waste it because you’re stubborn and heartbroken.”
I huffed a laugh. “You’re annoyingly logical, you know that?”
She shrugged.
“But this is why this crazy marriage makes sense. You get surgery. I mentally get my shit together. As individuals, we’re hot messes. Together, as a team? We can do better.”
She dropped back against the couch, crossing her arms and depriving me of her touch. “I hate to admit it, but you’re kind of making sense. I need to get this fucking gallbladder out without bankrupting myself or my brother. Or dying of sepsis. Though marrying for health care isn’t exactly the stuff of romantic fantasies.”
“We’ve known each other our entire lives. We trust and respect each other. We can make a short-term marriage work.”
“People will say you’re on the rebound.”
“I don’t care. And neither should you. I see it as upgrading to someone brilliant and gorgeous. And everyone else will see that too.”
She dipped her chin and blushed in response. And I liked it. I felt a small thrill that my words affected her. That I could have a small impact on how she felt.
But the satisfaction I got from that blush was dangerous. The big, noisy elephant in the room trumpeted, telling me to proceed with caution.
Because as I sat on this couch next to her, I began to realize that Hazel wasn’t just cute. She wasn’t just Dylan’s kid sister anymore. She had grown and evolved into something far more dangerous. Something I couldn’t risk. This would take a lot of willpower and discipline, but I’d handle it. For her.
She regarded me for a few minutes, those lips pressed into a straight line, before standing and pacing again. Finally, she stopped in front of me and put her hands on her hips. “I need to think about this. Between you and me, I’m terrified, and I need this surgery. But I just want to buckle down, do my research, and then get my dream job far away from this town.”
“Let’s work together,” I offered. “A team.”
“Okay.” She gave me a clipped nod. “I’m gonna order dinner. We can’t get fake engaged on empty stomachs.”
* * *
