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The Right Move (Windy City, #2)(18)

Author:Liz Tomforde

“Not exactly.”

“Ryan!” She cocks her head in disappointment and the eye roll she gives me is pretty fucking adorable.

“He brought you up three separate times while we were gone. It’s like he was testing me to see if it’s real.”

“Because it’s not!” Indy hides her face in her palms. “This is a terrible idea. It’s going to be ten times worse when he finds out you were lying to him later.”

“He’s not going to find out.”

“Oh, he’s not?” She laughs condescendingly. “He’s going to take one look at us together and know it’s a lie.”

“I’m good at putting on an act in public. Please, Blue. Help me out here.”

She pops a strawberry in her mouth and my attention falls on those pink lips. “For someone who likes to have control, it does sound awfully nice when you beg.”

I shoot her a pointed glance.

“Can’t you find someone else to be your fake girlfriend or here’s a thought, get a real one!”

“I don’t trust anyone, and I don’t date. And don’t even suggest I fake it while letting some poor girl believe it’s real. I can’t lead anyone on like that. But I’m not leading you on because this”—I motion between us—“will never be like that.”

“Well, that’s one way to make it clear.” She pulls her attention away from mine. “I can’t. I’m working.”

“You’re home for the fall banquet. All of Chicago’s teams are home.”

“I got a second job. I need to work that night.”

“A second job? Doing what?”

“Rideshare. It works perfectly with my flight schedule. I can work when I’m home.”

“Indy, no…that’s…that could be dangerous.”

“It’s fine.” She rolls her eyes. “I need the extra cash and I get to talk to people in my car all night. That sounds like a dream come true to me.”

I can’t get into all the reasons I think this is a terrible idea right now, so instead I offer, “I’ll pay you whatever you’d make that night.”

She scoffs. “I’m not letting you pay me to be your date. I’m not an escort. Jesus.” She stands from her stool, leaving me.

Shit. Clearly the wrong thing to offer.

Circling her wrist, I stop her, softening my tone. “What can I do?”

“Nothing. It’s not that I don’t want to help you, but I can’t. Besides needing to work, you’re famous, Ryan. Like really fucking famous.”

“And you’re worried about making headlines.” Of course, she is. She saw what my sister went through last year.

“No. Not at all, actually. I think that’d be fun, but I just got out of a six-year relationship. If he finds out—”

“Good. Let him think we’re together. Fuck that guy.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

A moment of silence lingers before her eyes drop to my hand encasing her wrist. She doesn’t move for a moment, and I find myself using all my restraint to keep from circling the pad of my thumb against the soft skin of the inside.

She pulls away, and regret instantly floods me. What the fuck am I doing?

“I’m in my friends’ wedding coming up and so is he.” She takes a save-the-date card off the refrigerator, sliding it across the island. “I need to focus on finding a real date to this thing, not being someone’s pretend girlfriend. I can’t exactly be pictured with you for one night then take a random guy to this wedding. Anyone else will be a downgrade from NBA superstar Ryan Shay.”

I hold a hand over my chest. “Blue, you flatter me.”

“I’m serious, Ryan. I already feel like the laughingstock of my friends right now.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing.” She shakes it off, replacing the card on the fridge. “Look, I’m so fucked up from Alex, that I can’t even think about being in another relationship right now or maybe ever, and I don’t know that I’d be able to fake that. I’m sorry, I can’t help you.”

I don’t know what causes me to say it. Maybe it’s the downturn of her lips or her sad brown eyes that I’m afraid will start watering soon. Or maybe it’s the thought of her ex assuming he’s come out victorious, but it slips out of my mouth before I have time to fully think this through. “When’s the wedding?”

“Why?” Suspicion laces her tone.

“Just answer the question.”

“February second.”

Pulling out my phone, I check my schedule. No games, home or away. I have practice, but I can get out of it.

“I’ll be your date for the wedding.”

She pauses before breaking into laughter, and it's deep and uncontrollable, coming from her core.

“What’s so funny?”

“You.” She sucks in a deep breath. “That was hilarious.”

I wait for her to calm the fuck down. “I’m not joking.”

Her smile is giddy and wide, the kind you can’t pull off your face after a genuine laugh attack. “Yes, you were.”

“Take the night off work. Be my date to the fall banquet, and I’ll be your date to the wedding. Try your best to fake it. That way this arrangement is mutually beneficial. If your little shithead ex is taking a date, there’s no way in hell I’m letting you go alone.”

Her smile drops as realization hits her. “You’re being serious right now. Ryan, it’s one thing to lie to your GM, but it’s an entirely different thing to lie to my childhood friends. They know me too well. They’ll know we’re faking it.”

“Well, then it looks like we’re going to have to practice. If all goes well, Ron and Caroline Morgan will be inviting us over for family dinners.”

In a state of disbelief, Indy plops back in her stool next to me. “You’re serious about this.”

“Deadly.”

She sits there, pink lips parted, and eyes zoned out. I can practically see the wheels spinning in that head of blonde hair.

“Any chance whatever the hell his name is, is a basketball fan?”

“Alex, and yes. He and his friends are huge basketball fans. He about lost it when he found out I was friends with your sister.”

Typically, I despise the thought of anyone thinking Stevie is an avenue to me. My career has made my sister’s life and friendships exponentially harder until she met blondie sitting next to me who didn’t give two fucks about what my job was. But knowing Indy’s ex is a fan of mine is going to make this fake boyfriend thing all the more enjoyable.

“Wipe that mischievous grin off your face.” She playfully pushes my head away.

“I can’t. This is going to be fun.”

She tries to hide her smile as she rolls her eyes, but I know I’ve got her.

“Indy, please. You scratch my back, I’ll scratch—”

“Ew. Don’t say it like that.”

“Fine. You do me a solid, I’ll do you one. I’ll be the best fake boyfriend you’ve ever had.”

“My one and only.”

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