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

I fell asleep curled around Madelyn, and when I woke the next morning, the first thing I did was reach for her.

All I found was an empty bed.

I creaked one eye open and then the next, squinting a bit at the soft light streaming in through the hotel window. The blackout curtain still covered most of it, but there was about a six-inch slit letting in the morning rays.

That strip of light cast a light pink glow on where Madelyn sat at the desk.

Half of her copper hair was piled in a clip on top of her head, and the other half was a ratty mess curling around her ears and neck. She had slipped back into the silk nightgown she’d had on last night before I’d stripped her. One foot was on the floor, the other was perched on the edge of the chair, and she balanced her chin on her knee as she wrote in a notebook.

I stilled.

She was writing.

I sat up as slowly and quietly as I could, not wanting to disturb her. She had a soft smile on her face as the pen dragged along the page, and at one point, I thought I saw her cheeks turn a bright pink.

I watched her for a stolen moment of time, emotions battling for my attention as I did.

Part of me was wrapped up in last night, in how she’d fit in with my friends so seamlessly and made it so easy to pretend she was mine.

Part of me was still existing in the precious slot of time where I’d had her writhing on top of me, her cunt on my tongue and my hands gripping her ass and helping her ride my face.

But the loudest part of me was screaming, like a man falling deep down into a dark hole with no end.

Because whatever game we were playing had been shot to hell last night.

And now, I had no idea where we went from here.

Madelyn’s pen paused over the page, her brows sliding together before she peeked over her shoulder and found me staring at her.

The moment our eyes locked, I felt both of our hearts stop.

She swallowed, and my chest tightened.

“Morning,” she whispered, and I couldn’t explain it, but just that soft rasp of her voice had me yearning to hold her.

I offered a lopsided smile. “Good morning, gorgeous.”

Her cheeks flamed, and she dropped her pen, stopping long enough to pour a cup of coffee on her way over to me. I hadn’t realized there was a carafe next to her. She must have ordered room service.

“I don’t know how you like it,” she said, the mug steaming in her hands. “Your coffee.”

“Well, you must be a psychic, because this is exactly how I like it.”

“Black?”

“No.” I shook my head, taking the mug from her hands and setting it on the nightstand before I grabbed her and pulled her into my lap. “Delivered by you in a nightgown.”

She laughed as I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her neck, dragging my stubble along the slope of it as she wiggled in my lap. When I pulled back, I kept my hands on her hips and searched her eyes for a sign of how she was feeling.

I didn’t have to look long to know she had her own internal war going on.

“Thank you,” I said after a moment. “For the coffee. But it’s supposed to be me taking care of you.”

She arched a brow. “Is that so?”

“It is.”

A shy smile found her lips, and her gaze fell to where her hands were balanced on my chest, silence washing over both of us.

“You were writing,” I mused.

Her little nose scrunched before she peeked up at me through her lashes. “I was.”

“Feeling inspired?” I smirked, squeezing her hips. “I saw that blush. Just what were you writing about, Miss James?”

She was giggling at the tease, but when I said her name, the smile slipped.

“Hearst,” she reminded me.

“Nah, fuck that,” I said. “He doesn’t deserve to have his name on you.”

“So, you’re just going to call me by my maiden name?”

“For now.”

I held her gaze even when it widened, even when her eyes darted between mine like she was trying to analyze what I meant by that.

“Did it feel good?” I asked, and I chuckled a bit when her neck flashed a deep red. “Writing, I mean.”

“Oh,” she said, her eyes falling to her hands on my chest again. “Yes, actually. It felt… like coming home.”

I smiled at that. “I love your writing.”

“You only loved it because half the time I was writing about your stupid ass,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

“Fair. I wonder if anything’s changed. Maybe I should go take a peek…”

“Absolutely not,” she said, and she pulled at my shoulders like she could stop me from getting up if I wanted to. But I let her, savoring the way it felt with her thighs straddling my waist.

I swept her messy hair behind one ear on a smile, and she lifted her gaze to meet mine.

A million unspoken words hung between us.

I didn’t know where to start. I wanted to ask if she was okay after last night, if she was upset it had happened.

But I knew just from her sitting in my lap that that wasn’t the case.

Which left me wondering what this meant for us now. It was clear we weren’t just pretending anymore.

But it was also clear she was guarded.

I wondered if she was feeling guilty for what happened when we were younger. I wondered why I didn’t feel the same anger and pain when I looked at her now. I wondered where that grudge had gone that I’d held onto for so long.

Because suddenly, I didn’t give a fuck what happened when we were kids.

I just wanted a clean slate.

I wanted to start over, right here, right now.

When I opened my mouth to tell her that, I paused, frowning, thinking about the plane ride here and what she’d said.

Why did you leave?

The question had perplexed me when she’d asked it. She knew why. She knew what happened with my father. Hadn’t that been why she’d come to our house the next day and told them she wanted me to stay away from her?

My phone ringing jolted me from the thought, Madelyn flinching a bit in my lap when the loud vibration sounded through the room. I kept one hand on her as I reached for my phone on the nightstand with the other. The nickname CAP covered the screen, and I tapped the green phone icon to answer.

“Holden,” I greeted, eyes flicking to Madelyn. “To what do I owe the pleasure of a phone call from you at the ass-crack of dawn?”

“It’s almost ten in the morning.”

I blinked, pulling my phone back and blanching when I saw the time on the screen and realized he was right.

I hadn’t slept this late since college.

When I didn’t say anything, Holden chuckled on the other end. “Get your lazy ass in the shower and get dressed. We’ve been summoned.”

“Summoned?”

“Boys brunch and round of golf before the wedding tonight, remember? We’re meeting in the lobby in half an hour.”

My eyes slid to Madelyn, but she showed no sign of emotion one way or the other.

“The groom really wants to get his ass handed to him on his big day?” I clicked my tongue. “Masochist.”

Holden laughed a little on the other end. “See you downstairs.”

When we hung up, I tossed my phone on the bed, hands resting on Madelyn’s hips again. The comforter was bunched between us, and I hoped it was thick enough to hide the fact that I was rock hard and aching to fill her.

Not that I was embarrassed by that fact — quite the opposite, actually.

But thirty minutes wasn’t enough time for me to take her the way I wanted to, not after all these years.

“You better get going,” Madelyn said when I didn’t attempt to move her off me.

I sighed. “You’ll be alright without me?”

At that, she cocked a brow on a short laugh. “I’ve managed to survive this long.”

She climbed off my lap long before I wanted her to, but before she could go far, I grabbed her wrist, standing and pulling her into me. My hands slid back into her hair, angling her face up to look at me before I bent and pressed a long, slow kiss against her lips.

I sucked in a breath when our mouths met, one she echoed as her fingers curled around my wrists.

“I want to talk later,” I said when I pulled back, my forehead against hers.

She nodded, and I noted how her throat constricted with a thick swallow.

Reluctantly, I released her, internally cursing my former teammate as I hustled through a shower and hastily got dressed. It was his wedding day. I would do whatever he wanted me to.

But it was going to be torture waiting until tonight to talk to Madelyn about what was happening between us.

When I was ready, I slid my wallet into my pocket and grabbed my cell phone. I was halfway over to where Madelyn was writing at the desk again when her phone rang.

One glance at the screen had her dropping her pen immediately, and she propped the phone in front of her, smiling widely when the call connected.

“There’s my favorite boy,” she answered, and I stopped in my tracks, knowing it was Sebastian on the other end.

“Hi, Mommy!”

Her eyes watered at his little voice, and my heart seized in my chest.

I took a step, wanting to say hello, but when her gaze flicked to me, she went ashen.

And she held up a hand out of frame to stop me.

I swallowed, nodding and trying to force a smile as I gave her a pathetic two-finger wave to let her know I was heading out. She nodded, turning her smile back to the camera as Sebastian started chattering away.

Then, I heard another voice.

Her mother’s.

She asked about where to find something, but I didn’t catch what it was. I just grabbed my room key and slid out the door with my throat closing in.

Madelyn didn’t want her mother to know she was with me.

That told me louder than words that she was still holding on to our past.

And when I shut the door behind me and made my way to the elevators, I couldn’t escape the anger and hurt that gripped me by the throat.