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“We need to clean up your image.”
Finishing my last rep, I wince at the tinge of pain in my knee, knowing I’ll need to stop by the trainer’s office. I decided to squeeze in a conditioning session prior to tonight’s game against Toronto. Blane will probably give me the third degree about conditioning on game day, but I needed to release some built-up tension after my verbal sparring with Greer Bradley.
And since I’m trying my damnedest to keep my dick in my pants, I had no other option than to sweat it out in the gym.
“And how do you suggest I do that?” I ask, grabbing my towel and running it over my face and hair. “I’ve been doing everything you told me to do. I haven’t been hooking up when we’re out of town. The last chick I took home was over three weeks ago and I was discreet. We haven’t been hanging out at bars after games. I’m basically living like a monk over here.”
There’s a long pause and for a second I think he hung up on me. “Aiden?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m still here.” He heaves a heavy sigh. “Just thinking.”
“You said it’s just going to take some time, right?” I ask, running back over our last few conversations. “Pretty soon, someone else will catch their attention and they’ll move on.”
He chuckles darkly. “Not with you playing like you are.”
“Fuck, man, I’m not blowing my game just to score an endorsement.”
“I’m not suggesting that, just stating the facts. As long as you’re raking like you have been and playing a mean game of defense, the dogs will stay on your trail.”
Laying back on the bench, I throw a sweaty arm over my face. “So, what you’re saying is I’m fucked. Damned if I do and damned if I don’t.”
“I think that’s the answer,” Aiden says slowly.
“What?” I ask, not following the dots he’s connecting.
“We’ve been going about this all wrong.”
I sit up and climb off the bench. “So, you want me to go back to banging randoms?”
“No, I want you to pick one and make her your girlfriend. Let’s really give them something new to talk about and in the meantime, we’ll give you a new, cleaner image, show the brands we want to work with that you’re a safe bet.”
As I stare at my reflection in the floor to ceiling mirrors, I wonder if maybe I fell and hit my head. Maybe I never even made it to the gym and crashed my car on the way here. I could be laying in a hospital bed somewhere with a head injury because there’s no way Aiden is saying what I think he’s saying.
“You want me to call up one of my fuck buddies and ask them to go steady?”
He laughs. “If this was nineteen-fifty-four, sure. But it’s not. So, how about you think back on all the women you’ve hooked up with and narrow them down to someone you could tolerate going on a few dates with, being seen in front of the cameras with. There’s that benefit gala coming up, she can be your date to that. And then, of course, post-season will be right around the corner and since the Revelers will most likely be—”
“No!” I practically yell into the phone and look around to no one is listening in. “You can’t say that shit, man. It’s bad luck. We don’t need any bad juju messing shit up.”
“Right, I forgot, but you get the idea.”
The phone goes silent for a moment as I pace around the gym, running a hand through my hair trying to wrap my mind around what he’s asking me to do. “So, I need to find someone to fake a relationship.”
Aiden huffs out a laugh. “Well, I’d like to say find arealgirlfriend, but I realize that’s asking a lot. So, yes, a fake girlfriend who’s willing to be in on the ruse and not blow your cover… someone you can trust. Because if it gets out that it’s a load of shit, it will backfire and cause a bigger mess than we’re trying to clean up.”
“Fuck,” I mutter, plopping back down on the bench hard enough the weights rattle. “This sounds like a bad idea, man.”
“It’s not,” Aiden says confidently. “It’ll work. I just wanted to throw that out there so you know how serious it is that you pick the right girl.”
Right, like that’ll be easy.
“I have faith in you,” Aiden adds. “I’ll call you back in a few days to see how things are going. In the meantime, continue keeping a low profile until you find this wonder woman. If we play our cards right, we can fast track this relationship and convince the media you’ve been involved for a while.”
My gut twists. I don’t like this one bit. A fake relationship means I’ll be lying to the public, and probably to my teammates, at least some of them. I know I can trust Ross, Owen, and Bo. But that’s about it. Even Val and Phil, who used to be my roommates, can’t really be trusted. One trip to the bar after a game and they’d likely spill everything they know. The last thing I want is for someone like Freeman catching wind of this. He’s the kind of douchebag who would take it straight to the gossip rags.
“Mack, you still there?”
“Yeah, I’m here.”
