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

True to her word, Madelyn sent a list of house addresses, dates, and times the morning after our dinner.

I’d wanted to ask her a dozen things, starting with what happened to your marriage, and ending with why did you think I would have assumed your kid was mine?

Instead, I’d sent her a thumbs-up emoji, and now it was Tuesday and I was on my way to meet her at the first house she’d suggested.

My mind raced the entire way, much like it had every minute since she left me in that restaurant. Sitting across from her had been a unique kind of torture, the type that makes your stomach roil as much as it makes your chest light with excitement.

I needed to get away from her, from the rage and disappointment and hurt she dredged up in the trenches of my being.

But I also wanted to get close to her, to know everything about her life since she’d exited mine.

I felt like a crazy person, but when I pulled up the drive of the mansion she’d selected for us to see first, I put on my best mask and stepped out of my car with confidence.

It was beautiful — a stately home on Lake Washington with grandiose landscaping and the classic kind of rich vibe that made me feel like I needed to wear slippers and smoke a cigar. I’d flipped through the photographs, already fairly certain it wasn’t the spot for me, but I didn’t want to negate the work Madelyn had done.

I was going into this with an open mind, mostly because something about Madelyn told me she wasn’t happy. And I didn’t want to add to that.

In fact, for a reason I’d never understand, I wanted to be the one to fix it.

I was loading up my jokes when I shut my car door and headed for the grand entrance of the home. My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I paused, taking it out to see a slew of missed texts in the group chat.

Holden: Hate to act like your captain even now that we’re on different teams, but has everyone booked flights and hotels for this weekend?

Clay: We love you, daddy!

Leo: Hey, that’s my title.

Zeke: To Mary, maybe.

Braden: Correction — Mary is daddy. Leo is just shitstain.

Leo: *middle finger emoji*

I chuckled, reading on to see Braden had already booked our flights. The guys teased him about hiding his love for me and how we were so clearly a couple. It then went into Clay saying he was an expert in fake dating, if we needed him to help find us a guest.

I stopped long enough to thumb out a sarcastic response to a few of their jests, and then my phone was tucked away and I was headed inside.

It was wild, to think of how fast my friends had been locked down. Zeke Collins had fallen hard for Riley Novo our freshman year, although to his credit, he had been in love with that girl since they were kids. It wasn’t his fault she was the only girl on the team, and then he was forced to room with her. Any man would have cracked under that.

Then, Clay simped for Giana, pretending to date her to get his ex back only to actually fall for G, instead.

Holden was the one I thought would stay strong. He was our quarterback, our captain, and nothing distracted him from football. That was, until our new coach’s daughter had strutted into the locker room looking like an absolute snack. I was mildly jealous of that one. I would have given my starting position for a chance with Julep.

They got hitched in April.

Lastly, there was Leo Hernandez and Mary Silver. Those two fought like fucking cats and dogs when Mary found herself without any other choice but to live with us at The Pit for a few months. That was our senior year, the one where I started pulling my head out of my ass and acting like a grown man who wanted a shot in the NFL. I’d thought being a star on social media would get me my ticket in, but it was Holden who helped me see I needed to straighten up if I wanted a real shot.

And I could still remember how it felt to watch him that first time on the field as an NFL player. We were all gathered at The Pit, stunned silent when he lined up as quarterback during a pre-season game for North Carolina.

That had straightened me out real quick, and my singular focus shifted from fame, girls, and partying, to being and doing whatever it took to get my own spot in that league.

At least I still had Braden. I was pretty sure he was just as content being single as I was, his drive to be a beast in the NFL just as strong as mine.

The front door of the massive white house was unlocked, and I pushed it open with my eyes scanning the tall ceilings and rich woods when I did. The foyer opened up to a dining area and kitchen, which spilled into the living area. All of it was lit up with the natural light coming in from the large sliding glass doors in the back, and I ticked a brow up at the view of the lake.

“Not bad,” I muttered to myself.

Still, it felt a little old fashioned for me. I tried to keep my mind open as I made my way farther inside.

“Good morning.”

Madelyn’s voice was soft and tentative, and I turned to find her joining me from one of the back hallways.

She had her arms wrapped around a binder hugged to her chest, as if it were a shield. Where she’d been in a pencil skirt and blouse last time she’d shown me a home, this time, she was in straight-legged dark green slacks and a long-sleeve black turtleneck. It hugged her slight frame and matched the heels she wore, the ones that helped her stand at least four inches taller.

Her copper hair was straight today, and the morning light off that lake warmed the gold in her brown eyes.

Fuck, she was beautiful.

“Good morning,” I echoed, leaning a hip against the kitchen island where I stood. I folded my arms over my chest, looking around at the house. “Nice find. I dig the Spanish Revival style.”

“I’m glad you approve. Care for a tour?”

“Lead the way.”

I followed behind Madelyn as she gave me the overview of the home, listing off all the construction materials, square footage details, years it was made and updated, age of the appliances, and so on and so forth.

I listened intently, nodding and taking it all in as we toured the eight bedrooms, the two kitchens — one for the chefs, one for me — the six-and-a-half bathrooms, the three bonus rooms that she illustrated could be used for a gym or man cave or whatever else my heart desired, the four fireplaces, the two dining areas and living areas, the back yard with a garden and a pool and an outdoor cooking area.

I really was listening.

But I was also staring at Madelyn’s ass and daydreaming about a life that felt almost like it never happened.

I remembered the way her torn-up jean shorts would hug that ass when she was seventeen, when I was a fifteen-year-old with raging hormones driving all of my decisions.

I remembered how I slowly grew from a pain in her ass to her friend, how we went from annoying each other to opening up to one another in ways we didn’t open up to anyone else.

By the time I turned sixteen, she was my best friend.

One cold winter night, the two of us snuck into a house not even a quarter of the size of this one in the gated community a ten-minute walk from my parents’ house. Its owners had just moved out, but it hadn’t gone up for sale yet.

We’d thought that was a mansion, thought we were so fucking cool jumping into that dirty, freezing cold pool. It wasn’t like we didn’t have a nice, clean, decent-size pool at my house. It was just that this one was like a fucking waterpark. It had multiple slides and a diving board and a hot tub that sat a few feet higher than the pool.

Of course, it wasn’t hot then, but we pretended like it was.

We’d gotten tipsy off cheap champagne we stole out of my mom’s secret fridge in the garage, and I’d teased Madelyn about being the worst babysitter in the world, about how she was more trouble than I would have found if I was left on my own.

Then, I’d touched her for the first time.

I could still hear the way her breath had hitched when I did, how my heart had been hammering out of my chest thinking she was going to tell me to stop.

But she hadn’t.

“So, what do you think?” Madelyn asked when we’d finished the tour, ending in the kitchen where we’d began.

I leaned against the counter again with a smile on my lips and that memory still playing vividly in my mind.

“Do you remember when we snuck into Waterford Lakes?”

Her eyes widened, cheeks flushing a light pink.

I laughed a little when she didn’t respond, shaking my head. “We thought that was how the rich and famous lived. And now, here we are, grown ass adults touring a house at least four times the size.”

Madelyn’s jaw was tight as she looked at the floor. “That was a nice house.”

“I seem to remember liking the pool quite a bit…”

I arched a brow when Madelyn’s gaze met mine, and for a moment, I thought I saw the same heat and desire in her eyes. Did she remember what it was like to be two kids fooling around for the first time, all that excitement and nervous energy?

I thought maybe she would return my smile and let me take her down memory lane.

Instead, she swallowed, hardening even more as she laid out the binder with the house stats on the granite counter.

“They’re asking for six point two,” she said, leaving off the million part of that statement. “But I think we could offer six and get away with it. It’s been on the market for two months now. I realize this is at the high-end of your range, but I thought you’d appreciate the lake view and the options for your gym.”

I hated that she changed the subject, that she was being so cold with me. But I also hated that I wasn’t being cold with her.

After what she did, after how she betrayed me… it should have been me who was pissed off.

Instead, I found myself scratching my head and trying to recall why I’d been so angry to begin with.

We were young. We were fucking kids. Of course, at that time in my life, I didn’t realize it. Everything felt big. Everything felt like the end of the world.

Especially when my father made a fool of himself, enough so that the whole community turned their backs on us and forced us out of town.

Madelyn and her parents included.

I sniffed. “I do love the view, and the access to the lake. The pool is nice. I love all the dark wood. But…” I looked around, trying to figure out how to name what was off. “It just feels a little…”

“Old?”

I cringed. “Yeah.”

She nodded, making a note in her binder. “That’s alright, this will help me figure out what your style is, since you didn’t really give me anything to go on there.”

I chuckled. “I’m going to have to start wearing armor around you, with all these little jabs you love to throw.”

“Have you gotten soft in your old age?” she teased, arching a brow at me as she shoved her sleeves up. “The Kyle I knew could dish it right back.”

My chest sparked with the challenge, with how she was letting me in a bit. She was smiling. She was teasing. I saw just a glimpse of the girl I used to know.

But then my eyes caught on her left arm, on the dark coloring of skin above her watch.

There were four bruises.

And there was no mistaking they were from a hand.

“So, let’s cross this one off. I think the next—”

“Who did that to you?”

My jaw was tighter than I’d ever felt it in my fucking life, my teeth grinding together hard enough to crack as I stared at those marks. They were a dark, nasty purple against her pale skin, the edges of them turning a sickening green.

Madelyn frowned up at me, and then instantly went white as a sheet. She tugged her sleeves down without even looking at the bruises she knew I’d seen.

“Oh, stop it,” she tried, waving me off. “You know how clumsy I am. I just—”

“I swear to fucking God, Madelyn, if you try to tell me you fell and bruised your arm in the shape of a hand—”

That was not the right response, and I knew it by the way she shriveled in on herself. But it was like trying to ride a fucking bull, the way my rage was bucking wildly in my chest.

I inhaled a long breath, closed my eyes, and opened them again before tentatively moving toward her. I didn’t dare reach out for her, not when she looked like a scared doe ready to race across a highway if I did.

“Look at me,” I whispered.

I didn’t miss how her eyes welled with tears, but her nose flared despite them, her chin lifting and eyes finding mine in defiance. “I’m fine.”

“Who hurt you?”

“I’m not hurt.”

“Who,” I repeated, slower this time, the strain evident in my voice as I tried to keep my cool. “Did this?”

She sighed, shaking her head and looking away from me. Then, she rolled her lips together, eyes falling to the binder. “My ex.”