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

I hung up the phone with a sigh, scrubbing my hand over my face before I balanced my elbows on my knees and stared at the ground between my shoes.

I was afraid to even look at Madelyn.

“I swear,” I started, wringing my hands together. I finally lifted my eyes to hers. “I booked a two-bedroom suite.”

Madelyn was still frozen in the same place she’d been when I made the call down to the front desk. She was standing next to her suitcase by the window that looked out over the city, her knuckles white where she held the handle of it like she was ready to bolt.

I ran a hand through my hair, picking up the phone again. “I’ll call for a cot. They don’t have any suites available, but—”

“Kyle, you’re like eight-feet tall,” she said, and I breathed a little sigh of relief when she let go of the grip she had on her suitcase. “You’re not sleeping on a cot.”

I was still holding the phone, ready to dial the front desk as she looked around the room with her little mouth twisting to the side.

“This couch is huge,” she said, gesturing to the sofa in the little seating area our room had. “I can sleep there easily. We just need some sheets and a blanket.”

“Not happening, Mads.”

I didn’t mean for the words to growl out of me the way they did, didn’t mean to sound like a bossy fucking prick. But there was absolutely no way I was letting that woman sleep on a couch.

When she looked at me, her expression told me she knew better than to argue.

We were both silent for a moment, and then she let out a sigh, running her hands through her hair and relinquishing the grip she had on her suitcase completely. She walked over to where I sat by the phone, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Look, we’re adults. That bed is ginormous,” she added with a sweep of her hand.

“Is that a word?”

“Sebastian says it is, so yes.”

I smiled.

“We can handle sleeping in the same bed for a few nights,” she said, and she might have actually believed those words.

At least, until the moment they left her mouth.

Because when they did, she swallowed, her neck flushing the prettiest pink as she looked at the bed and then dragged her gaze back to me.

“Yeah,” I said, and then cleared my throat, because the word came out like a fucking squeak. “Yeah,” I repeated, voice normal again. “It’ll be fine. We can put a line of pillows between us.”

Madelyn arched a brow. “A pillow fort. We’re pretty well versed in building those.”

“Oh, God. Leave the building to me, okay? We all know what happened the last time you played architect.”

She reached behind her for a decorative pillow and launched it at me, sticking her tongue out when I caught it effortlessly.

“It’s not my fault! You farted and brought the whole thing down!”

I rolled my lips together, but it was no use — the fact that this gorgeous, grown ass woman just said the word farted and then blushed about it made me lose it.

A laugh barreled out of me, and then Madelyn was grabbing another pillow to throw at me. Before she could, though, I stood and swooped her up over my shoulder like a defenseman trying to get to the quarterback. I hauled her toward the bed and dropped her down into it, her hair splaying across the white comforter when I did.

“You better sleep with one eye open tonight, Robbins,” she threatened, leaning up on her elbows to glare at me.

I dropped down on top of her, fists hitting the bed on either side of her head, mouth dropping until I was just a few inches above hers.

“Or what?”

I knew instantly that I’d taken it too far.

I was eating up the fact that she was showing a little bit of who she used to be, that her feistiness was coming out the more time we spent together. Razzing each other used to be our favorite way to communicate.

But she wasn’t smiling anymore.

She was staring up at me with wide eyes, her breath shallow in her chest, lips parted.

This wasn’t just a friendly gesture.

This was flirting.

And there was no one around to pretend for.

Fuck.

I tried to play it off, laughing and pushing off the bed to stand. I reached a hand down for hers. “Alright, let’s unpack. You can plot how to kill me while you put your panties in a drawer.”

She rolled her eyes as I helped her stand.

And I hoped like hell I hadn’t just ruined whatever progress we were making.

Madelyn

We unpacked in silence.

My heart finally stopped racing about halfway through, and then Kyle put on a playlist — a mixture of rap from the 90s, 00s, and 10s. I felt like I took my first real breath when “So Fresh, So Clean” by OutKast came on.

I bobbed my head to the beat, singing along in my head as I hung my dress for the wedding. Every now and then, I’d glance at Kyle, who was busy unpacking his own things.

My heart rate spiked again when I blinked and saw him on top of me on that bed, that wicked gleam in his eyes.

Or what?

I shivered, closing my eyes and shaking my head. He was just playing around. It was a joke.

But it was so close to how we used to be, how we used to flirt and test the friendship boundary between us with little stunts like that.

It could have been innocent.

But we both knew it wasn’t.

I needed to clear the air, to get things back to comfortable between us. Otherwise, I was going to crawl out of my skin.

We had a whole weekend together, and I didn’t want to spend it walking on eggshells.

“Your friends seem really close,” I said, and then covered my mouth with a yawn, shaking it off. I’d been tired from the moment I woke up this morning, but between flying, the chaos in the lobby, and the adrenaline spike from Kyle pinning me on the bed — I was downright exhausted now.

Kyle smiled from where he was tucking some athletic shorts into one of the dresser drawers. “I told you — like family.”

“Mary said she lived with you at one point?” I cocked a brow.

“Aw, don’t be jealous, Mads,” he said, crossing to where I was still working on unpacking. He’d finished up, tucking his empty suitcase into the closet. He plopped down on the couch to watch me. “She was all Leo’s, from the moment she moved in.”

I rolled my eyes, but then frowned a bit, glancing at him and then focusing on smoothing out the wrinkles in the tops I’d brought.

“All of the girls had… interesting stories to tell about you.”

Kyle quieted, crossing an ankle over his opposite knee. “I’m sure they did.”

“I found it quite odd,” I admitted. “It just seems like the Kyle they knew is…”

“Different from the one you did?”

We locked eyes for a moment, and then I went back to unpacking.

“I was going through a lot,” Kyle said. “I just didn’t think making friends was important. I focused on football and on growing a social media following. I knew having a big audience could help sell me to a team. It also helped with getting paid, even in college. I made my own money with all the Name, Image, and Likeness deals that I could get.”

“Your parents weren’t helping you?” I asked, genuinely shocked.

Kyle’s jaw hardened. “I didn’t want their help.”

My mouth was dry as I thought of how to respond but came up blank.

Kyle’s father was one of the most complicated creatures I’d ever known in my life. He was respected where we grew up, always serving as a leader — at our schools, at our church, at a whole slew of community initiatives.

But I knew what happened behind closed doors.

I knew that when he drank too much, he turned into someone unrecognizable. And I knew that when that happened, Kyle seemed to always be in the way.

My stomach cramped as a flash of memories hit me — bruises on Kyle’s skin, cuts on his eyebrows and mouth.

I was there for him back then.

But now, I could relate.

I understood him in a way I wished I never had to.

When I tucked my suitcase away in the closet, I covered another yawn, stretching my mouth wide. “I’m excited to see you with your friends,” I said. “It’s nice to get a glimpse of who you were after…”

I swallowed, not sure how to finish that.

After you left?

After you left me?

“What about you?” Kyle asked. “I don’t think I’m the only one who’s changed since high school.”

I smiled on a sigh as I sat on the edge of the bed. “My life has been pretty boring compared to yours.”

“Doesn’t seem boring to me, especially not with Sebastian.”

Kyle smiled on that remark, but it twisted my gut.

“He’s everything to me,” I whispered, looking at my fingers in my lap.

I’d peeled half my nail polish off on the plane ride here, and I cursed internally, knowing I’d look like a kid next to all those beautiful women I just met in the lobby. No doubt, they’d have perfect manicures.

“How did you and Marshall meet?”

I chuckled, looking up at him. “You really want to know that?”

His jaw ticced. “Yes.”

“You’re still a shit liar,” I said on a laugh. I shook my head, shrugging. “It’s nothing romantic. I was out at a bar that I had to use a fake ID to get into. He was there with some friends. He saw me trying to drink away my problems, and came over pretending to be an undercover cop, and then he was making me laugh, and then…”

I swallowed, not wanting to finish that sentence, and realizing I didn’t need to.

Kyle was smart enough to fill in the blanks.

“You got married pretty quickly,” Kyle guessed. “You must have really fallen for him.”

I snorted. “Getting married was not my idea. But, I got pregnant, and Marshall is old school, so…”

I didn’t dare look at Kyle. I didn’t want to see his reaction to that.

I yawned again, covering it with the back of my wrist before I shook my head. “I’m not being fair, I guess. I really did fall hard for him.” I paused. “It’s just that now, I realize I fell for who he was making me believe he was, not who he actually is.” I sniffed. “Hard to find anything kind to say about a man who…”

I sucked in a breath, not able to finish the sentence.

And when I let that breath out, Kyle was beside me, his large frame sinking into the mattress and making me lean into him a bit without meaning to.

He covered my hand with his, squeezing it.

And I knew from that alone that I didn’t need to say another word.

He understood.

Another yawn found me, and I laughed a little, eyes watering as I shook it off. “Sorry.”

“You should take a nap,” Kyle said on a smile.

“No, no. We need to go meet up with your friends. I’ll just splash some cold water on my face. I—”

I tried to stand, but Kyle grabbed me by the hips and pulled me back down onto the bed.

He let go of me as soon as I was sitting, but I felt the imprint of his hands on my skin like he’d branded me.

“Look at me,” he said, and when my eyes slowly trailed up to meet his, he grinned in a way that made me feel like a teenage girl with a crush again. “I’m going to get out of here so you can have some quiet. Call your mom, check in on Sebastian, and then take a nap.”

“But—”

“I’ll have some tea sent up around five, that’s plenty of time for you to shower and get ready for the night. You still like Earl Grey? Honey and milk?”

My lips parted.

He remembered the kind of tea I loved?

He smiled a little when I didn’t respond, and then his hand reached forward, tucking my hair behind one ear. “When’s the last time you took a nap?”

I finally closed my lips on a swallow, then shook my head. “I can’t even remember.”

“See?” He held up his hands and splayed them wide over the room. “Look at this. You’re in a fancy hotel room with this ginormous bed all to yourself for a couple hours. Take a fucking nap, Mads. You deserve it.”

My eyes stung, and I blinked several times to keep them from watering. “What about you?”

“I have five rowdy teammates downstairs to keep me occupied,” he said, standing and moving to the window.

He pushed a button and the blackout curtains slowly lowered, instantly making the room dark, save for the lights we’d turned on. He put those out one by one, until only the lamp on one of the bedside tables was lit.

“I’ll be back around six,” he said, grabbing his wallet and a hotel key from the table. He tucked them both into his pocket before walking over to me again. “Take a nap. Take a shower, or hell, a bath — did you see that tub in there?” He grinned. “Drink your tea, enjoy some peace and quiet, and then you can face my crazy friends for a night.”

He laughed with the joke, but I couldn’t even smile in response.

My chest felt like it was going to explode.

He was taking care of me.

He was giving me something I hadn’t had in years — alone time, without pressure to take care of Sebastian or the house or work.

My eyes pricked again, and this time I couldn’t blink, because I knew if I did, I’d set the tears free.

Kyle leaned down, and with my breath still held captive in my throat, he pressed a kiss to my forehead.

We both stilled.

He froze like he didn’t actually mean to do that, but like he couldn’t help it.

I kept still so my tears wouldn’t stream down my face.

Kyle stood and cleared his throat. “See you in a bit,” he said, and then he rushed out the door like he was late.

As soon as he was gone, I closed my eyes, two parallel rivers of tears staining my cheeks.

I called my mom.

I talked to my son.

I changed into a fresh pair of underwear and oversized shirt.

And I crawled under those expensive sheets to have the best nap of my life.