The Right Move (Windy City Series Book 2)

“What the fuck is a meet cute?” I take a seat on the couch in my living room, projecting my voice to be heard through Indy’s bedroom wall and her blaring music.

“It’s the way a couple meets. It’s usually a charming story about an accidental run-in or how two dogs wound their leashes up around their owners’ legs, forcing them to meet face-to-face.”

I’m thankful Indy’s in her room with the door closed so she can’t see the slight tug on my lips. Custom-fitted suit, cuff links, and a Rolex look a bit out of place paired with the stupid smile I’m wearing over my twenty-seven-year-old roommate referencing 101 Dalmatians.

“I guess if anyone asks how we met, we tell the truth,” I decide. “You came to my apartment crying then drooled over how amazing I looked as I stood shirtless in my kitchen. Then you threw up all over my shoes. Is that cute enough for you?”

One tune shifts to another, but in the break between songs, Indy asks, “Have I reminded you of how much you suck today?”

“Only twice.”

There’s a subtle comfortability between us now, most likely because I have to trust her enough to fake our relationship and vice versa. Unluckily for us, we’ve only seen each other in passing this week between her travel schedule and mine, so we’re left nailing down our relationship story five minutes before leaving for the fall banquet.

She projects her voice past the wall. “How about you saw your sister’s best friend from afar and instantly knew she was the one. I continually rejected you, because of course I did. But you followed me around like a lost puppy until I caved and gave you a pity date.”

“So much for a realistic storyline.”

“I think most people would buy it.” Her bedroom door opens. “What do you think?”

Lilac-painted toes and white strappy heels are the first thing I see as she steps into the living room. My admiring eye trails the never-ending path of her golden legs, though only one is fully on display tonight thanks to the slit falling dangerously high on her thigh. Shimmering satin paints her body in a bright pink, and I don’t understand the mechanics of it all, but the dress stays perfectly in place by a single strap across one shoulder.

I wonder how quickly it’d pool at her feet, revealing what’s underneath, if it slipped off that slope.

“Ryan.”

“Hmm.” I force my eyes up to meet hers.

“I asked, what do you think?” She holds her hands out, gesturing to herself.

Jesus Christ, get it together.

Nodding, I stand from the couch, smoothing out my suit. “You look lovely, Blue.”

“You look lovely, too.”

My chest heaves. “I was going for intimidating, regal, and suave.”

She takes a step towards me, and between her natural height and the added inches from her heels she almost meets me eye to eye. “We’ll work on that for next time.”

It takes all my willpower to keep my hands at my side when all they want to do is rest on those hips. I can only imagine how cool the satin would feel against my palms, how small she would feel under my touch. She’s utter perfection, feminine and beautiful, but we’re roommates and she’s my sister’s best friend, and the only touching that should be done is while prying eyes are watching us. Only while prying eyes are watching us.

Her matching lilac fingernails find my tie as she straightens me out and I can’t help but watch her work. Her eyelids are shimmering, her cheeks are painted rose, and her lashes are darker than usual. Maybe it’s my angle, but they’re the perfect frame for her whiskey brown eyes as she fixates on my tie.

“You did a good job on your makeup.”

Her head snaps up, brows creased in confusion.

I motion towards my own face. “Your makeup. It looks pretty on you.”

“That’s a weird thing to say.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re supposed to say you like me natural or something to that extent. That’s the typical opinion of the male species.”

“Well, what can I say? I’m not like other guys.”

She catches onto the mocking tone of the cliché phrase as she rolls her eyes and releases a subtle laugh. “You’re funny sometimes, Shay.”

“Do you like your makeup? Did you spend time on it?”

She keeps her stare on my tie and not on me. “Yes.”

“Exactly. So, I think you should know you did a good job on it.”

Those rose-painted cheeks flame. “Thank you.”

“How tall are you?” I keep my words low because she’s only inches from my lips.

“Five-nine, and no, I’m not going to change into shorter heels.”

“Why would I ask you to do that?”

She’s done straightening my tie, but her hands are lingering, fingers pretending to work. “Because I’m only a couple inches shorter than you right now.”

“I don’t mind.”

Looking down, I watch those flaming cheeks ignite once again. At this rate, I should’ve warned her not to wear blush at all tonight.

“We should go.” She takes off to the door, grabbing her tiny purse on the way.

“Your jacket,” I remind her.

She turns with attitude, showing off that shiny pink dress. “I’m not taking one. Beauty is pain, and this outfit needs its moment.”

It took the entire drive for Indy to stop shivering thanks to the short walk from my apartment to the town car. I offered her my jacket, but she refused, claiming if she’s going to be photographed on my arm then it’s going to be in this dress. I don’t blame her because goddamn, this dress, but I’m going to come off like an asshole allowing my date to freeze in the Chicago evening temperatures.

“You ready?” I ask her as we pull up to the swanky hotel hosting the fall banquet. And though the question is directed at Indy, I’m internally asking myself the same thing.

Besides the favor-date last year, I haven’t been photographed with a woman since I moved to Chicago, and now I’m regretting pulling Indy into this madness. My life is forever on display, and I hate it. Anonymity is rare and I’m about to take hers away.

“Yeah, I think so.” Her words are breathy, fogging the back window as her eyes stay glued to the hoard of photographers right outside.

An image of Stevie flashes through my mind. I couldn’t protect her from the scrutiny of the press last spring, and I vividly remember the mental toll it took on her. She was a normal girl and I kept her out of the limelight the best I could, but once word got out that Evan Zanders had a girlfriend, her life was upended for weeks.

And I’m intentionally about to do that to her closest friend.

Although, I doubt speculation over my dating life would be as big of a deal as it was for Zanders. I’m not a playboy. I’m not flashy. I’ve never flaunted my single life the way he used to, but it’s still too risky.

“Harold, turn around,” I project to my driver. “Back home, please.”

Indy’s head snaps to me. “What are you doing?”

“I can’t let you go out there with me.” Fidgeting, I run my palms down my thighs as I wait for Harold to pull out of the lineup and get us back home.

Indy’s hand settles on mine in an easy move, unthinking. As if we’ve touched and comforted one another hundreds of times in the past. “What’s wrong?”

I stare at where we’re connected, her hand small in comparison to mine. And even though she’s big and bold in spirit, she’s soft. She has feelings. A lot of them.

“You’re a normal person, Blue.”

Her lip quirks. “Very observant tonight, Shay.”

“Being normal is special. I won’t be the reason you lose your privacy. Especially over something as trivial as a fake date.”

My driver turns the wheel to get back on the main road.

“Don’t you dare drive.” Indy’s words are harsh and commanding, causing Harold’s nervous stare to meet mine in the rearview mirror.

He’s been my driver for four years and I’ve never seen him so quickly shift loyalties than in this moment as the blonde at my side shoots him commands.

She turns to me, that sinful slit inching its way over and taunting those golden legs. “I get that you want to be left alone, and you’re worried about me.” She pats my chest. “Cute, by the way, but I like people. I’m excited about this. You’re not forcing me. I want to go.”

“Indy—”

“What are you worried about? Sure, there might be a few headlines and my name might get released, but who cares? It’ll last a day, maybe two. When they deep dive into my life they’ll find out I go to trivia, I cross-stitch in my free time, and I read dirty books. No one cares about me. I’m not you, Ryan. It’s you they worship. So, please, let me go be a social butterfly because I’m starved for attention.”

Her eager brown eyes lighten with humor.

“You cross-stitch?”

“Proudly.”

“You grandma.” She smiles at that, matching the now relaxed grin on my lips. “Are you sure?”

“I didn’t shave and moisturize every inch of my body to go back home. Yes, I’m sure.”

Making eye contact once again, I offer a small nod of approval to Harold.

Once we pull up, my door on the street side is opened. I step out, rebuttoning my suit as flashes illuminate the dark sky. My name is yelled, cameras are blinding, but I stay on task. Rounding the car to Indy’s side, I stop the doorman when his hand finds the handle. “I’ve got it.”

He gives a polite nod and steps back with his hands folded behind him.

I open Indy’s door by only a fraction, giving myself a moment to check on her and make sure she’s truly okay with this before subjecting her to the entire world. She’s wearing an eager smile on those heart-shaped lips and her brown eyes are shining with excitement.

I dread these nights when I find them on my calendar, and she couldn’t be more stoked.

The photographers and paparazzi behind me are relentlessly trying to get a shot, but I’m not worried about impressing or convincing them. We aren’t doing this for them. I just need to make sure we’re on our A-game by the time we inevitably run into Ron Morgan.

Indy puts her hand in mine, one white heel finding the ground as she glides out of the car with so much grace and polish, those previous notions and lack of concern go up in flames.

Because with how perfect she looks tonight, no one is going to believe she’s mine.

Cameras explode with light as we step onto the carpet leading to the hotel. Indy’s fingers link with mine in the most natural way, but I don’t know how the fuck to do this. I didn’t think this through. Typically, I find myself sprinting to get inside and away from the fanfare, but I can’t exactly hurry Indy along when she’s wearing those heels and commanding everyone’s attention the way she is now.

She floats along as I follow, stiff as a board and uncomfortable beyond belief. Clearly, the girl is stunning, but the perfect show she’s putting on tonight is different than the version I get at home.

I’m not sure how to take that.

“Ryan Shay, a photo!”

“Over here!”

“Ryan, over here!”

My date stops on the carpet, pulling me to a halt with her.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

She smiles at the crowd, speaking behind her teeth. “Loosen up and pose with me.”

I turn towards the collection of photographers as she puts a hand on my chest. “I don’t pose,” I say quietly enough for no one else to hear.

“You want to sell this? Well, running inside doesn’t exactly sell this.”

She’s right. Ron already thinks I’m lying. If I bring a date who I claim is my girlfriend and only show her off for a few moments in front of him, he’ll know.

Standing stiffly, I smile, allowing Indy to lean into me.

“Put your arm around me.”

“No.”

“Ryan,” she warns behind that sparkling smile. And how does she speak so clearly behind her teeth? She should be a damn ventriloquist. “You’re not going to burst into flames from touching a woman. Put your goddamn arm around me.”

Inhaling deeply, I swing my arm behind her, placing my palm at a respectful height—on her shoulder blade.

“Lower.”

Lower shoulder blade.

I can feel the annoyance flaring off her body as she reaches behind her, finding my hand and curving it around her waist. She presses her body into my chest and sells it.

How is she so fucking good at this?

“Kiss me,” she quietly mutters. “Cheek. Forehead. I don’t care.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Kiss—”

I hold my hand out to the crowd in a swift wave. “Thank you, guys. Have a great night.”

Keeping her hand in mine, I pull Indy towards the hotel, needing to get the fuck out of here.

She sighs. “We have so much work to do.”

One more hour.

Put on the bullshit Ryan Shay smile for one more hour. Be basketball’s shining golden boy for one more hour. All eyes are on me for one more hour, then I can go home and relax.

I’ve internally repeated those sentences for the last twenty minutes as Indy and I worked the room, greeting season ticket holders, upper management, and saying hello to guys I know who play for the other major league teams in the city.

Another random man pats my back as he walks by. “Great game last night, son.” I’ve seen him at events, he’s a wealthy fan, and I’m sure he paid a pretty penny to be at this one tonight.

A small tip of my head. “Thank you, sir.”

Indy turns to stand directly in front of me once he’s out of earshot. “Why are you so tense? You’re allowed to smile, you know.” She puts her hands on both shoulders, pushing them down. “Chill out and let’s have fun.” Her eyes are sparkling with excitement as she takes in the room around us.

“I don’t chill out when I’m at these kinds of things.”

“Why not?”

Because I don’t trust anyone.

But before I can answer, ironically, one of the few people I do trust catches my attention across the room, making his way to my date and me.

“Ryan Shay!” he says in excitement, putting his hand in mine and swinging his other over my shoulder. “I can’t believe I caught you at one of these things before you slipped out.”

“Good to see you, Kai.”

Kai Rhodes is a good guy and one hell of a baseball player. Starting pitcher for the Windy City Warriors, Kai signed one of the biggest contracts in MLB history last season when his free agency brought him to Chicago. We share the same agent who got him set up with an apartment in my building, and I can’t explain exactly why I like him so much, but I do.

There’s not a bad bone in his body, and I think my soft spot for him is due to the massive shift his life has taken over the last couple months and how well he’s stepped up and handled his responsibilities. The guy could be out partying every night, getting away with any and every thing, but instead, he’s at home taking care of his son as a single dad.

“And who is this?” Kai’s eyes linger on the woman at my side. Not in a creepy way, but in a respectful you’re one of the most beautiful women I’ve had the pleasure to lay eyes on way.

I said I liked him, but if he doesn’t take his eyes off her soon, I have no issue retracting my statement.

Unfortunately, we’re close enough friends that I can’t exactly call dibs by referring to Indy as my girlfriend.

“This is my roommate, Indy.” I gesture towards her, possessively keeping a hand on the small of her back.

He takes her hand, shaking it, his eyes twinkling like he just found the future mother of his child. “I’m Kai, but you can call me Ace.”

“Ace, huh? What’s with the nickname?”

“Always been the best pitcher on the team. I’ve got good hands. The right touch. In case you were curious.”

And those good hands are still holding on to my fake girlfriend’s.

“Okay, that seems like enough of a handshake there, buddy.” I separate them, putting my body slightly in front of Indy’s and out of his eyeline.

Kai is basically a golden fucking retriever with his obvious good looks, black-rimmed glasses, and charming smiles. I don’t need him showing Indy those smiles especially when I don’t give her enough of mine.

He chuckles. “Got it.”

And it’s clear he does. What exactly, even I’m not sure, but he knows she’s off-limits.

“How long are you here?”

“Just long enough to cover my contractual obligations.” He shakes his head. “I gotta get home to release the nanny.”

“I thought you fired the last one?”

“I did. I hired another one, who I’ll probably fire soon too.”

“You have a kid?” Indy’s voice bursts with excitement.

“A son,” Kai beams. “Max. He’s eight months old.” Pulling out his phone like the proud dad he is, he scrolls through the endless pictures.

I don’t blame him. Max is one of the cutest kids I know.

“You don’t have a kid. You have a baby.” Indy’s tone switches to soft and sweet, her smile beaming as she looks through Kai’s phone.

“Yeah,” he sighs. “And he’s looking for a mom.”

“Jesus Christ.” I huff out a laugh. “Try to be a little more fucking subtle why don’t you.”

The 6’4” baseball player wears a not so innocent grin.

Indy’s brows instantly furrow. “Where’s his mom?”

And because I know how emotional she is, she’s about two seconds away from glass-covered eyes, knowing there’s a baby boy out there without his mom around.

Kai pats me on the shoulder. “Your roommate here will be happy to fill you in, I’m sure. I’ve gotta sneak out of here. How much longer you’ve got?”

We both look around the room. “An hour at best.”

“You’re better than me.” Kai turns back to the woman at my side. “Indy, it was a pleasure to meet you. Make sure our boy over here has some fun, will ya?”

And with that, I watch Kai slip out the side door without being noticed and I couldn’t be more envious of the guy.

“Ryan Shay, do you have an actual friend?” I don’t respond to the dig but notice Indy watching his back. “So, what’s with baseball’s Clark Kent?”

Dark Hair. Dark-rimmed glasses. Tall. He fits the bill. I look for any interest in Indy’s expression, but she just seems genuinely curious.

“He and I share an agent. He moved here last spring then found out his ex had his baby when she dropped him off at Kai’s doorstep and skipped town.”

“Wait, Max really doesn’t have a mom?”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t let him fool you. Kai is happy to be doing this without her. And Max could have any mom he wants. Multiple moms, but Kai is protective. He’s pretty much the nicest fucking guy in the world as long as you’re not the current nanny. He’s firing them every other day, but other than that, they’re good.”

“What the hell kind of woman could leave their baby boy like that?” Indy’s chin trembles before she looks over my shoulder and sucks in a sharp breath. “Hold that thought. It’s showtime, boyfriend.”

Her forced smile beams to who I’d assume is my GM. Inhaling a deep breath, I turn around.

“Mr. Morgan.” I hold out my hand for his.

“Shay.” My General Manager shakes my hand before motioning to the woman at his side. “You know my wife, Caroline.”

“Of course. Good to see you, Mrs. Morgan.” I turn to Indy with my hand hovering, not sure what amount of touching is appropriate or believable, so I end up patting her upper arm a couple of times like a middle schooler afraid to catch cooties. “This is my girlfriend, Indy.”

Indy stares at me blankly and we don’t know each other too well, but her look is unmistakable. You suck at this. You have no idea what you’re doing. But then there’s the Indy spin on it and I internally add, are you really that afraid of girls?

She forces a smile back on her face, turning back and holding her hand out to shake Caroline’s. “So lovely to meet you.”

“You as well.”

I’ve always liked Caroline. She’s sweet and brings Ron’s intimidating edge down a few notches. Guy turns into putty when she’s around.

“I love your dress,” Indy compliments.

“I feel the same about yours. This pink is so much fun.”

The two women fall into comfortable conversation, which I attempt to focus and join in on, but I’m too distracted by the penetrating stare coming from the man who signs my paychecks.

Ron watches me before his eyes bounce to the gaping space between my date and me. Clearly, he’s not impressed, and my body language is practically screaming that I’ve never touched this woman outside of a hug or small innocent gesture.

Is it hot? It feels really fucking hot in here. Pulling at my collar, I try to loosen it, but Ron’s disapproving gaze is burning me up. This little stunt isn’t even about faking it in order to get him to approve of me anymore. It’s about getting out of this colossal lie I created, unscathed.

The man spends a good amount of the team’s budget on my salary and I’ve yet to bring him to the playoffs. How much longer is he willing to invest in me? At what point is he going to gamble with a younger guy who might be a diamond in the rough, but cost him a whole lot less? If he finds out this is some elaborate scheme to get him to like me, I can’t imagine that option being too far off.

Indy’s smile is radiant and warm as she converses with Caroline, and she doesn’t look at me or break away from the conversation she’s having, but she pulls my hand away from my collar and laces her fingers through mine, holding my hand.

“Did you go to the game last night?” Caroline asks.

“I couldn’t.” Indy crosses her other arm over her body, holding my single hand with both of hers. She’s effortless and luminous and so fucking good at this. “I was traveling for work, but I watched it on TV. He’s amazing.”

Wait. She watched from her hotel room?

“Do you enjoy your job? Flying the Raptors around. That sounds fun.”

“I love my job, but when I’m on the road, I miss home.” She smiles up at me and it’s soft and loving, but I know it’s not real. I know this is all pretend, but fuck, I’d be lying if I said that didn’t do something to my insides.

“Any chance you’re in town next Thursday?” Caroline asks the woman at my side. “We were supposed to have dinner with Ethan and Annie this weekend, but last minute, Ron was invited to speak at his alma mater. We’re headed to Hanover tomorrow, but if you two can join us next week, that’d be wonderful.”

“Hanover? As in Hanover, New Hampshire?” Indy asks, turning towards Ron. “Did you attend Dartmouth?”

His brows lift. “I did.”

She nods approvingly. “You seem like an Ivy League man.”

There’s a faint, almost indistinguishable tug at Ron’s lips, but for a man like him, it’s equivalent to a full-tooth grin.

Whatever Indy wants, she can have. I can’t even begin to list all the ways I owe her for tonight.

“That was my dream school.”

My neck almost snaps with how quickly I turn to look at her before remembering I’m her live-in boyfriend who should know these things.

“It’s a tough school to get into. Low acceptance rate.”

“Yes, that’s true.” Indy’s radiant smile falters, but she recovers so quickly I may have imagined it.

At this moment, I’m realizing how much I don’t know about this woman and how much I wish I did.

She turns back to Caroline. “I’m sorry. Huge conversation shift. I am in town next Thursday and we would absolutely love to have dinner with you two.”

There are no scowls or hard lines on Ron’s face besides the ones permanently etched in his skin from a constant state of disappointment. But this is the softest I’ve seen him look and it’s because of Indy.

Though, she is being more formal than the chaotic girl I found crying in my apartment, and I hope she knows she doesn’t have to fake more than our relationship here.

“She’s lovely, Shay,” Ron says to me and it’s the first time I’m involved in the conversation.

Awareness floods me. Indy has been carrying this with grace and confidence, meanwhile I’ve been standing as stiff as a board, my fingers splayed wide with tension while Indy’s are effortlessly curled around mine.

“How did you two meet?” he continues.

Shit. We talked about this. We knew this would come up, but we never decided.

“We—” Indy and I begin at the same time, but I pause and let her continue because I trust her enough to get us through this.

“We were introduced through his sister.”

Perfect. Simple. To the point.

She looks up at me and I can only hope she can read my appreciation.

“Oh, I see that look,” Caroline mews. “You two lovebirds. There’s more to the story, isn’t there?”

She has no fucking clue.

“There is,” I tell her, clearing my throat because it’s the first time I’ve really spoken in God knows how long. I slide my arm around Indy’s waist, pulling her into my side, and when I speak, I keep my eyes locked on hers. “But we like to keep the details between us.”

Indy’s brown eyes shine with relief as I finally get one thing right tonight.

“You two are utterly adorable. Indy, I’m looking forward to seeing you at dinner next week. We’re doing something a little different.”

“I can’t wait. It was so wonderful to meet you.” She leans her head on my shoulder.

“Shay.” Ron puts his hand out to shake mine and a bit of that disbelief and distrust has washed away. He’s still skeptical, clearly, but he seems as if he’s questioning the possibility of this being legitimate instead of outright believing it’s a lie.

As they walk away, my chest deflates with a much-needed exhale. “You were incredible, Blue.”

“And you were terrible. We have so much work ahead of us if I’m going to even consider taking you to that wedding.”

“You know you can be yourself while doing this, right? You don’t have to be so poised and perfect. They’ll like you regardless.”

She pops her shoulders. “I’m used to playing the doting girlfriend who always has the right thing to say. That was almost second nature.”

“I can’t believe you’re still here.” Ethan sets another glass of champagne in front of his wife, Annie, as he speaks to me. “This is the longest I’ve ever seen you at a work event.”

“That’s because he’s got a stunning girlfriend to show off.” Annie motions her flute in Indy’s direction.

I find Indy by the bar, holding court, surrounded by a few of the guys from the Raptors. She’s wearing that infectious smile, those kind brown eyes, that confident body-language. And I’m suddenly aware that she works with these men every time she’s on the road.

God, they must love her.

Indy wasn’t lying. She really is a social butterfly and I find myself a bit envious at her ability to be so open.

“It’s not real, Ann.”

“I know, I know,” she brushes off her husband. “But a woman could dream. Imagine Ryan having a real girlfriend. I’d be in heaven having someone at team events instead of the flavors of the week the rest of your teammates rotate through.”

“Sorry to crush your dreams, Annie.” I smile into my whiskey glass, taking a swig. “Speaking of staying out late, you two are out past ten. Parents gone wild.”

“We have an overnight babysitter.”

“And a hotel,” Ethan adds with a suggestive brow wag.

“So, daughter number four in nine months. Got it.”

“Here’s hoping.” Ethan holds up his beer bottle in a cheers.

Annie smacks him in the chest. “Absolutely not.”

“Ry, have you planned team dinner yet?” Ethan asks.

I lean back in my chair, casually sipping my whiskey. Of everyone on my team, Ethan is my closest friend and the guy I feel most myself around.

“What do you mean?”

“Team dinner,” he repeats. “Team captain plans team dinner every other month. And we’re almost a month into the season.”

“Wait. That’s a thing? I thought we went to your house every other month because your mom is an amazing cook.”

Annie and Ethan share a laugh. Ethan’s parents came to the states before he was born, and his mom would cook up a storm of authentic Korean dishes every month for the team to gather around their table and share a meal. She even taught me how to prepare my own kimchi last season. It’s the one outing I genuinely look forward to.

“No, man. That’s part of your duties as the new team captain.”

“Well, fuck. Can’t we keep doing it at your house? I need Mrs. Jeong’s cooking.”

“I think it’d go a long way with the guys if you planned something yourself. It’d be good for them to see who you are outside of basketball.”

“What are you talking about? I’ve played with some of these guys for four years.” I find a group of my teammates gathered around a high-top table, shooting the shit, and laughing with each other. “Then there’s Dom who I’ve played with since college. They know me.”

“They know the best point guard in the league. They know the guy who holds the record for the most assists in a single season, but they don’t know anything about you. You’re in charge now, man. You’ve got to connect with them off the court.”

“You sound like Ron.”

“Well, maybe he wasn’t that far off. You want to prove him wrong? Team dinner is your first opportunity.”

The idea of allowing fourteen guys into my apartment for dinner causes my skin to crawl. Ethan has been over a few times and Dom has stopped by here and there, but the rest of the guys, they haven’t been in my space. I haven’t allowed them to.

No one besides Indy.

“You’re still welcome to come over anytime for my mother-in-law’s cooking,” Annie offers. “And bring that cute fake girlfriend of yours when you do.”

“That secret stays between us three,” I remind them. “No one else can know. I can’t risk one of the guys slipping up and Ron finding out.”

Annie motions as if she were sealing her lips and locking them up without saying a word.