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The way Greer rides my dick is definitely real.
The late night phone calls, the early morning breakfasts, and the moments we squeeze in between all of that are also very real.
But, as far as our status is concerned, we’re still playing our roles for the press and gossip columns.
Right?
I reach over and grip her thigh. “We’ll give them a good show tonight.”
She laughs, lacing her fingers through mine. “Don’t get crazy. The last thing we need is for them to start talking about how much of an exhibitionist you are. That’s not very family oriented either.”
“Aiden never said anything about that, so…”
“God, I bet you’re a handful to manage.” Greer laughs, shaking her head.
When we get to the stoplight at the corner near Lagniappe, I glance over at her, admiring her profile—the elegant slope of her nose, her plump lips, and delicate jawline.
Fuck, she’s pretty.
“You manage me just fine,” I say, lowering my voice and leaning over the console to nip her neck.
When I pull up next to the curb, a valet is there to take my keys.
“Wait there,” I tell Greer before climbing out of the car and jogging around to open her door.
The second the reporters spot me, cameras start flashing, and by the time I’m helping Greer out of the car, they’re shouting an onslaught of questions.
“How long have you and Miss Bradley been dating?”
“Is it serious?”
“Will you be popping the question soon?”
“What do you think about a post-playoff wedding?”
I pull Greer into my side, smile and wave, but keep my mouth shut until we’re safely inside and the door is closed behind us. A large man with tree trunks for arms is standing on guard.
“Mr. Granger,” he greets me in a subdued tone. “Good game tonight.”
“Thank you.”
As we step into the main part of the restaurant, I see we’re probably among the last to arrive.
What can I say? We had things to do.
“Well, that escalated quickly,” Greer muses.
“What?”
She laughs. “Three weeks ago, they didn’t even know we were dating, and now they’re trying to marry us off.”
“What can I say? I work fast,” I say with a shrug.
“You have to at least take me out on a real date first.”
If that’s all it took to get Greer Bradley to agree to a real date with me, I’d do it tomorrow.
“Greer!” Sophie exclaims, coming our way with open arms. “I’ve already ordered our favorites—a bottle of sauvignon blanc and an order of shrimp remoulade.”
