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

I blinked, mouth falling open before I bit it shut again. “This is inappropriate and not necessary to our business. May I proceed with my questions?”

Kyle didn’t like that answer. I saw it by how his jaw ticced, by how his eyes flicked to where I was still covering my ring finger like a secret.

But he sat back on a nod, waving his massive hand over the table as a sign for me to take the wheel.

I cleared my throat, reading over the notes I’d made in his file. “You didn’t have any preferences on neighborhoods, which leaves a very wide expanse of land to cover. You really don’t care where you live? Perhaps we should start in one of the more affluent and protected neighborhoods?”

“I can handle security after I buy,” he said, dismissing the thought quickly. “What I care about more than anything is that I like the house.”

“Right…” I said, flipping through my notes. “Which is going to be slightly difficult to find, considering your preferences aren’t super specific. You want…” I scanned until I found that part of the questionnaire I sent him. “A pool, a dedicated space for a gym, a chef’s grade kitchen, six bedrooms, a four-car garage minimum, and a nice view.”

“See? That’s plenty to narrow down choices.”

“In Seattle?” I chuffed a laugh, closing the binder. “You’d be surprised.” I paused a moment. “Okay, so, I understand the gym and the pool. When it comes to the kitchen, what are you specifically looking for?”

“I want something well-equipped for my nutritionist and chef to work in, as well as the kind of kitchen made for entertaining.”

I nodded. “Okay, and then… six bedrooms. Any flexibility there?”

“No.”

“May I ask why?”

“Because if my former teammates and best friends, who are the closest things I have to family, ever come to visit, they all have girlfriends or wives or fiancées. So, they’ll all need their own room.”

“Fair enough,” I said, ready to move on, but he cut me off.

“And if my actual family ever comes, I need a room on the opposite side of the house from me to stick them in so I can avoid them at all costs.”

My hands froze in my lap, my eyes on the tablecloth.

I couldn’t even look at him, for fear of what I’d find in those deep blue eyes.

I was no stranger to his relationship with his parents. I could close my eyes and still remember the first time I heard his screams when his father came at him with a belt, could still see his mother’s dejected face as she sat on the porch and pretended like she didn’t hear it.

I guessed part of me hoped things had changed.

By that comment, I knew they hadn’t.

The way Kyle was sitting now, all blasé, his arms folded across his chest as he reclined in the chair across from me, he seemed like he had the world in the palm of his hand. And in so many ways, he did. He was young, insanely hot, insanely rich, and a professional athlete.

But in those eyes of his, I could still see the boy I used to know. I could still remember his lopsided grin and carefree attitude. I could still remember how different he was when it was just me and him, as opposed to when his parents were around. I could still remember how hard I’d fought against my crush on him, how I’d made fun of myself for having the hots for a boy two grades younger than me who was so… annoying.

And yet, it’d been impossible to fight his charm. He’d been impossible to resist.

And I’d paid the price for falling.

Our food arrived, saving me from having to comment. For a few moments, we ate in silence, and then Kyle dropped his fork and took a long pull of water with his eyes on me.

“You never answered my question.”

“You never asked one,” I shot back.

He tapped the side of his glass with his long fingers. “Did you get married?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

I tongued my cheek, dropping my own fork and sitting back in my chair before I dragged my gaze to his. “Because at the time it happened, you had been out of my life for years.”

“And whose choice was that?”

My jaw hardened at the audacity. “I think for the sake of remaining professional, we should keep our conversations to house-hunting and steer clear of reminiscing over the past.”

“Are you married now?” Kyle asked. “That’s a present question — not a past one.”

My nostrils flared, my eyes dropping to the table once more. “No.”

Suddenly, my phone began vibrating in my purse hanging beneath the table. I scooted back so hard the chair ground against the floor, fumbling for my bag and whipping the device out. I always put my phone on silent during work meetings, but I made sure the few important people I needed to have access to me could still get through.

When I saw my ex-husband’s name on the screen, my stomach dropped.

“Excuse me,” I said, ditching the table and all but running back to the hallway where the bathrooms were.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Sebastian’s sick.”

I blinked, and then let out a long breath, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I’m at a work dinner, Marshall.”

“And your son is sick,” he shot back, his voice violent already where mine was level and calm.

“Can you handle it?”

“He threw up everywhere — like, projectile vomited all over his bed. I don’t have any spare sheets and I don’t even know where to begin cleaning up this goddamn mess.”

That was a no, I guessed.

I wanted to tell him to calm down, but I’d learned long ago that wasn’t the approach to take with Marshall.

“I’ll be there soon,” I said instead, hoping the calm in my voice would transfer to him.

In reality, I knew he’d be happy just because he still had power over me.

One call, and I was doing what he wanted.

My stomach was in knots as I made my way back to the table, my feet moving slower than I wanted them to. I needed to rush, to get to my baby boy and take care of him.

But going to him also meant going to Marshall.

I did my best to stay away from him as much as I could. Other than dropping Sebastian off or picking him up, I didn’t have to see my ex.

But with this, I’d have to go into that house I once lived in with him. I’d have to be within the walls, behind closed doors, alone with him — other than our child.

Nothing put me on edge quite like that did.

Marshall was careful. He always had been. He never outright hit me when we were together, and since our divorce, he found clever ways to bruise me without any physical marks being left on my skin.

Still, he was unpredictable.

“I’m sorry, I have a family emergency,” I said to Kyle when I made it back to the table, pulling cash from my purse.

Kyle immediately stood, dropping his napkin on his chair. “What happened? Is it your mom?”

My chest squeezed violently.

“No.”

Kyle frowned. “Your brother?”

“No,” I gritted, and when I tried to put cash on the table, Kyle stopped me, his hand lightly finding my wrist.

The soft touch made a lump form in my throat.

Slowly, he slid his hand down to mine, folding my fingers around the cash and guiding it back toward my purse.

“Who, then? Your dad?”

God, why did he have to ask, why did he have to pretend to care?

“Sebastian,” I said on a swallow, breaking contact with his hand. “Let me pay for dinner.”

“Not happening.” His eyes were still hard on me when he asked, “Who is Sebastian?”

I met his gaze. “My son.”

It felt like all the air in the restaurant was sucked out with those words, and I kept his stare even long after it burned me.

“Son,” he repeated. “You… you’re a mom?”

My eyes watered when he asked. It was like he was hurt by that fact as much as he was amazed by it.

He had a lot of balls to have that reaction, since the last time he’d found out I was pregnant, he’d left me.

I licked my lips on a laugh, slinging my purse over my shoulder. “Yep. And before you ask, no, he isn’t yours.”

That made Kyle frown. “Why would I assume that?”

I closed my eyes, forcing a breath. Of course, he wouldn’t assume I kept our child. I was just eighteen when he left. He was sixteen, for fuck’s sake. We were both still kids ourselves.

Not that I’d been much older when Marshall had knocked me up, but in that scenario, he was the older one. He was more mature. He knew what to do.

Or so I thought at the time.

I cleared my throat, lifting my chin to meet Kyle’s gaze even when it made me sick to do so. How he could be so callous, pretending like it never happened, made my blood boil.

Almost as much as it made my heart long to go back to that day, to force him to talk to me, to not let him go so easily. I was young, scared, and insecure — even though I masked that with a hard exterior.

We were both so good at pretending to be people we weren’t.

The commission, I reminded myself.

I only had to stomach him for a short while, and then I’d have the key to my freedom.

“I will send you a list of houses in the morning. I have your availability here, and I’m sure we’d both like this to be over quickly, so expect a full schedule.”

I bolted out of that restaurant like it was on fire, leaving Kyle Robbins to put out the flames.