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Greer
I’m at the station. A little behind on some work so I’ll probably be here pretty late.
Me
Why didn’t you tell me about the email?
The dots start again, only to stop. I give her time to respond but when it takes too long, I send another.
Me
Did you think Sophie wouldn’t say anything? Don’t hide things from me, Greer. Even if you think you’re doing me a favor by keeping me out of the loop, you’re not.
Greer
I’m sorry. I didn’t want to mess up your game. Just know I’m safe and it’s better if I don’t stay with Sophie and the kids tonight. Trust me that I’m doing the right thing and we’ll talk about the rest when you get back from Seattle.
Me
Where are you going to stay tonight?
Greer
The station. I’m going to catch up on some editing and fill in for one of our other reporters who’s out with strep throat. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be safe and so will Sophie and the kids.
Greer
Good luck tonight.
Me
I’m coming to get you when I get to town.
Greer
Your flight lands at 2:00 AM. Go home and get some sleep. I’ll see you after work tomorrow.
Me
I’m coming to get you.
Without waiting for her reply—which I’m sure would be an argument, because this is Greer Bradley we’re talking about—I toss my phone back in my bag and run a hand through my hair.
“What did she say?” Owen asks, a worried expression on his face.
“She’s going to work at the station tonight.” Letting out a deep sigh, I fall back down on the bench. “Obviously, whatever was in that email spooked her and made her feel like staying with Sophie and the kids wasn’t a good idea. She’s been afraid of that all week, so I’m sure it might not be anything, probably just enough to play on her fears. But regardless, she’s safe and we have a game to play.”
He nods, pulling his own phone out and texting Sophie.
If I say I haven’t wondered what the fuck I’m doing at least a dozen times over the past week, I’d be lying. Inviting this kind of drama into my life during the last half of a winning season is crazy.
And for someone who doesn’t do relationships, I find myself treating this like a real one. From the way I’m constantly thinking about Greer to texting her every chance I get—just chalk me up there with the rest of the family men on the team.
It’s not that I didn’t know what I was getting myself into. It was my fucking idea, after all. I willingly entered into a fake relationship with Greer knowing she came with a load of baggage, that’s actually what prompted me to present her with the idea.
That also sounds crazy.
What no one else knows is I’ve felt drawn to Greer for a while now, way before a week ago. Any time we’re in the same room, I find myself watching her, paying attention. But I’ve always convinced myself she’s off-limits. She’s always had a wall up and never seemed like the type who’s into casual fucks, and that’s all I’ve been into for the past decade.
