False Start: A Fake Dating Sports Romance (Red Zone Rivals)

How silly it was of me to assume we’d be taking a commercial flight to Denver.

I’d certainly expected some type of security once we got to the airport. I had also presumed we’d be in premium economy seats, if not first class.

What I had not expected was a private turboprop.

We didn’t park at the airport and drag our luggage inside. Instead, we drove right to a hangar where the plane waited for us — along with the pilot, a flight attendant, and a grounds crew waiting with glasses of champagne.

Kyle and Braden took a glass without blinking, not even bothering to move for their luggage in the trunk of the car. I went to reach for mine, but a man with pale skin, silver hair, and kind eyes stopped me — offering me a smile as he handled the luggage and nodded for me to join the others.

I felt so out of place, I wanted to crawl out of my skin.

It wasn’t that I hadn’t traveled to some nice places before or had some upscale experiences. Marshall was a veterinarian. He made a nice salary and used to like to spoil me when we were together.

Usually after he roughed me up.

It was his favorite way to apologize — by not actually apologizing at all, but rather buying me something or taking me somewhere.

My parents were also decently well-off, and they had taken me on many of their travels when I was younger.

But it was never anything like this.

I was still standing shocked-still and staring at the plane waiting for us to board it when a glass of champagne was propped right in my eye line.

“If I remember right, you love bubbles,” Kyle said, his voice low and teasing.

He cocked one of those gorgeous, thick brows of his when I looked at him, a smirk curling on his lips.

I took the glass from him with my cheeks heating. “That’s a very specific memory to hold onto,” I noted with an arched brow of my own.

“Oh, trust me,” he said, hooking his arm around my waist. Again, he did it so effortlessly, like his hand belonged hooked on my hip and pulling me into him. “I remember everything about that night.”

He smiled with the words, but they hung heavy in-between us when I dragged my gaze up to his. I was so small in his arms — even more so than I had been when we were younger.

I felt his body against mine like a fortress and a warning all at once.

That night.

That night we were just two kids getting into trouble. That night we snuck into the pool of a vacation house, when we spent the night drinking champagne we stole from Kyle’s parents, when we crossed a line that had already been so thin it was impossible to see.

That night we went from just friends to something more.

The more the memory resurfaced, the more both of our smiles dropped. The heat and the questions swirling in Kyle’s eyes were too much for me to bear.

I tore my gaze away and took a sip of my champagne.

When the crew was ready for us, they helped us board the plane, continuing to serve us as they went through the brief safety instructions. Then, they took our empty champagne flutes, and we were taxiing down the runway, ready for takeoff.

I looked around at the plush leather seats, the luxurious interior of the plane that could have seated eight, but just had the three of us.

I wondered what it was like to book something like this without thinking twice about it.

Kyle and I were seated next to each other, our seats in the back of the plane facing the cockpit. Braden sat across from us.

They were both massive, sprawling beings — their legs almost too tall even with the expanded leg room we had on this plane. I listened absentmindedly as the two of them joked around with each other, all while being entirely too focused on where Kyle’s arm brushed mine on the arm rest, on where his knee pressed against mine.

And when we took off, my stomach plunged.

Because as the plane soared up into the sky, Kyle covered my hand with his own.

And he didn’t move it.

“So, Madelyn,” Braden said when we were at ten-thousand feet. “Kyle said you grew up together.”

I blinked, hoping Braden didn’t see how intently I was staring at where Kyle’s hand was holding mine before I brought my gaze to him.

“We did,” I said, smiling. “And you two went to college together?”

“Unfortunately,” he said on a sigh. “I had to live with his smelly ass for a couple of those years, too.”

“You’re welcome for all the breakfasts I made you,” Kyle piped in from beside me.

The flight attendant interrupted us long enough to take a drink order.

“You?” I asked, not meaning to sound so incredulous when I added, “Cooking?”

Kyle pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense. “I’m an excellent cook, I’ll have you know.”

“He’s particularly well-versed in smiley-face pancakes,” Braden chimed in.

I chuckled, shaking my head. “I cannot picture Kyle cooking anything without burning it.”

“I’ve come a long way from the Easy Mac days,” he said, nudging my arm. “I’ll show you. When we get back, I’ll cook for you and Sebastian.”

My smile faded, stomach tightening at how easily he offered that.

I knew it was probably just for show in front of his friend. He had to sell the lie that we were a couple, after all. That was probably why his hand was still holding mine even after the flight attendant gave us our drinks.

He didn’t remove his hold on me, just took the cocktail she offered him in his other hand.

That shouldn’t have made me dizzy, but damn if it didn’t do just that. Because with Kyle’s hand around mine, it didn’t feel the way Marshall’s always had. It didn’t feel like a tether, like a restraint, like a form of control.

It was warm, comfortable, and familiar.

It was sweet with pride, as if I were some sort of catch — like claiming me in that small way in front of his friend made him sit a little taller.

“What was Kyle like when you were growing up?” Braden asked.

I blinked out of my thoughts and back to the moment when I answered. “A brat.”

He laughed at that, and Kyle smirked, not denying it.

“Did he tell you I was his babysitter?” I asked Braden.

“He did, actually,” Braden said. “I’m not surprised. I took that job once he went to college.”

Kyle flipped him off as I laughed.

“So, what do you like to do when you’re not letting this one drag you to a wedding halfway across the country,” Braden asked.

“Oh, I’m in real estate.”

Braden nodded. “That’s cool, but what do you like to do when you’re not working?”

I didn’t miss how Kyle’s eyes slid to me then, how he leaned in like he wanted to know the answer to that question, too.

“Hang out with my son, mostly,” I said. “He’s a curious kid, loves to explore. We spend a lot of time outside.”

“What do you do for you?”

Those words came from Kyle, and I tilted my gaze up to meet his.

I swallowed, wishing I had an answer for him, but I didn’t.

The truth was that Sebastian had become my world when he was born — even more so when I left Marshall. I worked hard to provide for him, and when I wasn’t working, all I wanted to do was spend time helping him learn and grow.

I loved to watch him experience something for the first time. I loved answering his questions and helping him think of even more to ask. I loved when it was just the two of us on a lazy, rainy day, cuddled on the couch and watching Cars for the fifteenth time.

When I didn’t answer, Kyle’s expression shifted, and Braden muttered something about needing to make a call. He moved to the couch toward the front of the plane, and I didn’t have time to analyze the fact that he could make a call from a freaking airplane before Kyle was tilting even more toward me, his ankle crossing over the opposite knee.

“You used to write.”

I swallowed. “I used to do a lot of things.”

“Do you still write?”

“No.”

“Do you want to?”

I smiled, looking down at my lap. I realized we were still holding hands, and I glanced to make sure Braden wasn’t watching us before I pulled my hand from Kyle’s.

He frowned as soon as I did.

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “I think I missed it, for a while. But I haven’t felt that way in a long time.”

I didn’t expand on what that way meant. Maybe he knew. Maybe he could look right through me and see that inspired was the last thing I’ve felt over the last several years.

“You love being a mom,” he said, not so much a question as an assessment.

I nodded. “More than anything in the world.”

“Sebastian is a great kid. You…” He swallowed. “He’s lucky to have you.”

My heart hollowed out with him looking at me like that, with him saying those words like he… like he wished he was a part of the family equation.

Like he had regrets.

And I couldn’t fight it any longer.

I couldn’t hold back the question that had been eating me alive since I was eighteen.

“Why did you leave?”

I whispered the words, my voice shaking and giving away the nonchalance I tried to fake with the question.

Kyle’s jaw tensed, his marble eyes holding mine. “You know why, Mads,” he croaked.

He looked hurt that I’d asked him, that I’d made him say that.

But not as hurt as I felt having him admit that to my face.

I blinked, and I thought I was holding a poker face, but I felt a tear trickle down my cheek. My bottom lip trembled, and my breath lodged in my chest when Kyle reached over and thumbed that tear away.

“I didn’t have a choice,” he said, his voice lower than before, his voice cracking with the words. “If I had — it would have been you. My choice would have always been you.” He swallowed. “Even if you didn’t choose me.”

He ripped his hand from where it held mine, scrubbing it over his face as he looked out the window and leaned away from me like I was on fire.

I frowned, confusion overtaking the hurt I felt before as I dissected his words.

I didn’t have a choice.

What the hell did that mean?

My mind raced with the possibilities. Did his parents not give him an option to stay with me and our child? Surely, they would have wanted him to stay and hold responsibility. Mr. and Mrs. Robbins were well-known and well-respected in our community.

My heart stopped in my chest.

They were well-known and well-respected.

But would they still have been, if their teenage son knocked someone up?

I covered my mouth with one hand, staring at the back of Kyle’s head before my gaze dropped to my lap.

Is that why they left?

Even if you didn’t choose me.

I frowned again, thinking about the last time I’d seen Kyle. We were at school, walking toward each other in the courtyard. I’d frozen when I’d seen him, not sure what to expect now that he knew about our predicament.

I had wished for him to run to me, to hold me, to assure me it would all be okay, and he was right there with me no matter what.

Instead, he’d taken one look at me, scowled, and stormed in the opposite direction.

I didn’t find out until later that he had cleaned out his locker. And I didn’t find out from him that he and his family were moving.

I put the pieces together once they were already gone.

As if that experience hadn’t plagued me as a teenager, as if I hadn’t lost sleep wondering what had happened all those years ago, as if I hadn’t endured the most horrific loss of my life — alone…

Now, I had an extra layer of confusion to add to the mix.

I didn’t have a choice.

But he did. He could have chosen to talk to me. He could have chosen to tell me if his parents had made the decision for him. He could have run away.

We could have run away. Together.

As a mother myself now, I knew how foolish that idea was even as I thought it. But it didn’t stop me from wondering. It didn’t stop me from wishing he would have at least talked to me.

I thought about Kyle’s father, about the nights he would drink too much, lose his temper, and take out all his life’s frustrations on his son.

Had he threatened Kyle?

Had he…

I closed my eyes, the thought souring my stomach.

Had he hurt Kyle… because of me?

I searched my memory of that last day I saw him, trying to remember if Kyle had worn any physical signs of the abuse I knew he’d suffered at his father’s hand.

But all I remembered was the hard stone of his gaze.

And now, I wondered if I’d misinterpreted it all.

Even if you didn’t choose me.

What did that mean?

I’d thought he was upset with me for getting pregnant. I thought he blamed me for ruining his life.

I thought he was running from me because he didn’t want me.

Now, I had no idea what to think.

But I had a weekend with him to find out the truth.

And that was exactly what I intended to do.