Rule Play (Saints of Love Book 1) Read online

  At my face, hers breaks out into a full blown smile.

  “Just kidding. It wasn’t actually on my list. And neither was jumping into an ice cold river in the middle of a thunderstorm, but again, if that was on the list…”

  “I get it. You’d be checking that one off, too.”

  With that, she nods.

  “Right.” I watch Mia as she sinks down into one of the two fluffy white chairs in the room. I eye the one next to me, and then decide against it. But as if she reads my mind, she nods.

  “Go ahead. It will hold you.”

  At my hesitation, she smiles. “My ex-fiancé was an offensive lineman in high school. He’s still built like that, and he’s sat in that chair plenty of times. It’ll hold you; I promise. Now, do you want to cut to the chase? I highly doubt that you came all this way just to hear my apology, and I’m betting that you’re not here for a haircut. So, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

  “I had no right to tell you to leave the other day. Amy and I are business partners, but she still runs the show when it comes to the kids. Apparently, Emily couldn’t stop saying nice things about you, and Emily doesn’t warm up to anybody. She wants you to continue doing your community service hours at the house.”

  Mia stares at me while weighing my words. She looks me up and down, and then, leans back in her chair, crossing her legs and covering her knee with her hand.

  “And what do you want?”

  “Honestly?” Fuck it, there’s no point in holding back, especially if she’s asking. “I want to know why you did what you did, at my game. I want to know why you were pretending to be some kid’s mom. I want to know what your motives were, and then, I want to know why you were out there proclaiming your love for me.”

  “Ok, first of all,” Mia stands abruptly, and then begins to pace. “I don’t remember proclaiming my love so to speak, because I’m not some psycho. I don’t love you. In fact, I really don’t even know who you are. All that I know is your name, and that you are my ex fiancé and his new skank girlfriends favorite football player. And I’m pretty sure that I was only asking you for a date.”

  Her face is so serious, that I don’t doubt her for a second. But it’s odd, right? I mean, so what if I’m her ex’s favorite player. Why the hell would she go to such lengths over an ex? My mood instantly darkens, as I realize exactly what she was after. I immediately rise.

  “Look, lady. If you were after a kid, I will report you. Do what you want to me, but when you start messing around with innocent children, that’s where I draw the line. A hard line. I will report…”

  “What?” Her eyes widen, and her mouth drops open. “No, dear God, no. I swear to you, I wasn’t after a kid. Not even close to that. You see, I happen to have a small connection that was able to get me a list of the kids. The list of kids, that was just my in to get onto the field. When you accuse me of trying to take a kid, well, damn.” Her mouth is grim. “It honestly makes the truth a lot better.”

  I motion for her to go on, but truth be told, I’m about ready to report her ass. She sinks back down into one of the chairs and hangs her head in her hands.

  “Ok, ok.” I listen to her suck in air, her hands gripping tightly into her hair. “The truth is, that I lied and told my ex that you were my boyfriend.”

  “Excuse me?” I can’t even stop myself from snorting. Her voice may be low, but there is no mistaking her words.

  “Please don’t make me say it again.”

  “Why would you do that?” I’m laughing now, mostly because I’m surprised. If this is really the truth, then fuck me, it’s pretty funny. And a bit sad. She went through all of that over a lie? That’s some serious dedication to fibbing.

  Her head snaps up and her eyes narrow as I laugh harder, but I can’t stop it from leaving my mouth. I’ve had a lot of strange shit happen to me over the years since going pro, and I’ve had women say all kinds of shit to me, and about me. But to tell me to my face that they were pretending to be dating me? Well, that’s pretty fucking funny. And honestly, pretty damn ballsy.

  “You know, I don’t appreciate being laughed at. What is it with guys like you, anyways? You think it’s pathetic, right? That someone like me would even believe they could have a chance with you? Well, turns out, my ex didn’t really believe it either, so I guess he was right.” I’m still laughing, as her eyes narrow.

  “You know what? I would appreciate it if you’d just see yourself out.”

  Her face is beet red and anger flashes in her eyes as her thumb jerks towards the door. I compose myself, at least, mostly, and hold up my hands.

  “Wait, Mia, no. I’m sorry for being an ass, but I promise, I’m not laughing at you for the reasons that you think. It’s just funny to me. Why’d you pick me? If you don’t like football, how in the hell was I the first fiction boyfriend to come to mind?”

  She throws her hands up. “Honestly? I don’t have a clue. Maybe it’s because just moments before I ran into him, I had been stalking Michael Ann’s Facebook page, and found out that she is in love with you.” At my face, she sighs. “Michael Ann is the woman that he cheated on me with.” Her face darkens. “Maybe it’s because you’re my ex’s favorite player of all time, too. Maybe it’s because she was wearing your jersey when I ran into them. I don’t know which part put your name into my head, and maybe, it was all of the above. But all I know, is that before I could even stop myself, my mouth was spewing word vomit, and then there I was, left with no choice but to try to meet you, so that I could convince you to date me. In some weird and twisted way, I was hoping that it would happen, and that if maybe if he saw me with you, he’d realize that I am actually a great catch. And I don’t know…maybe then he’d want me again.”

  Damn. The way that she spills her truth is unlike anything I’ve ever witnessed before. She could have made up any single story about what happened, but she didn’t. She just told her truth, plain as damn day. It takes me by total surprise, because women are never honest like that with me. They tell me what they think that I want to hear. They feed me with bullshit and stroke my ego. They don’t blast me with the truth.

  Not fucking ever.

  “Wait. So, you wanted to date me, Adrian Malone, NFL quarterback, so that you could get your high school linebacker boyfriend back?”

  “Fiancé.” She corrects me. “And he’s an attorney now, obviously. We’re all grown up.”

  That part may be a stretch.

  “Right, but didn’t you just say he cheated on you?”

  “Yeah.” She shrugs, as though that part doesn’t even register as being wrong to her. “And I’m not saying that I want to get back with him, or anything, but I want him to regret it, you know? I want him to grovel over me. He didn’t do any of that.” Her face falls, and sadness takes over the sparkle in her beautiful eyes, tugging hard on my heart. “He just up and left me, without a single ounce of remorse, and that’s not fair. I want him to hurt, dammit. I want him to ache the same way that he made me ache. The way that I still do. I want him on his damn knees, begging for me to take him back. That’s why I wanted you.”

  Women are so damn weird.

  “Ah. Ok, so what exactly was your plan?”

  “There was no specific plan. I was too drunk to figure out what was going to happen after I got your attention. Basically, the grand finale to the plan was to get you to accompany me to my high school reunion because they both will be there. That was it. That was as much as I had figured out.”

  Despite myself, I chuckle. This is one absolutely fucked up plan.

  “And you had no hand in where your community service landed you?”

  She shakes her head. “No. I promise you, I didn’t. Fate just decided to be a real bitch and shove me right back into your path.”

  I study her with my eyes. She seems pretty genuine, and honestly, in a sick and twisted way, I’m honored that for whatever the reason was, she chose me to be her imaginary boyfriend. Maybe she’s not as crazy as I originally
thought. Instead, she’s just a woman scorned, which of course, is its own category of crazy. But she wasn’t trying to harm children in her ploy to get my attention, and she seems harmless enough. So, without any more beating around the bush, I shrug. I’m all about helping people out these days. Pretending to be a hot woman’s imaginary boyfriend doesn’t seem like it would be all that hard.

  “So, I’ll make you a deal then. You come back to the house, and finish out your community service with us, so that Amy doesn’t kill me. And then, on your own time, you help Amy out one other night a week for a few hours. She needs extra help to get that house ready to move in by Christmas.

  As her mouth opens in protest, I hold up my hand.

  “Let me finish, Mia. You do that to help us, and in return, I will help you. I’ll take a few pictures with you, so that you can post them to your social media to make your ex jealous. I’ll be your pretend boyfriend, and you will be an extra set of hands with the kids. And as long as you keep up on your end of the bargain, I’ll be your high school reunion date.”

  I can practically see the wheels in her head spinning. But then she stands up tall and nods, extending her hand to mine.

  “Seriously?” Her eyes are wide, and a huge smile erupts on her lips. It catches me off guard, honestly, because when she smiles, holy fuck. She’s beautiful.

  “Seriously.” I nod, and then, I pause. “But, if we’re going to do that, we need to set some ground rules.”

  “Rules?” She shrugs. “Alright. What are your rules?”

  There the same rules that I live my life by, only this time, they will be catered to fit whatever this façade will be.

  “We will not be having sex.” I tell her firmly, to which, she huffs.

  “Omigod, seriously?” She jerks her hand back from mine. “No worries there, hot shot. I’m not some two cent whore ready to spread her legs for some guy. Anything else?”

  “Yeah.” I look her dead in the eye. “You cannot fall in love with me or expect this to ever turn into something real. I do not do relationships, Mia, and I don’t do love. As long as you can agree…”

  “Deal.” Her hand wraps back around mine, and she shakes it with a firm grip.

  “I don’t know much about you, Adrian Malone, but you sure do think a lot about yourself. I’m not going to fall in love with you. I don’t want anything other than a pretend boyfriend out of you. And sex is one hundred percent off of the table. That’s for certain.”

  I smirk.

  “Listen, I’m easy to fall in love with, alright? I mean, who wouldn’t want all of this?”

  She immediately groans, dropping my hand and heading for the door.

  “Me, Adrian. Me. You know, while we’re agreeing to rules, you should also agree to the same. Don’t fall in love with me, hot shot. Because I will not be falling for you, at all.”

  “Ok.” I can’t even stop myself from smirking. “I don’t fall in love, so you can rest assured it won’t be happening on my end. But I’m quite the catch, Mia Jacobsen. You wouldn’t be the first to fall for me, doll face. Just remember that you were warned.”

  “Goodbye, Adrian.” She’s shaking her head, obviously fighting off a smile. I can tell by the way the corners of her lips tug upwards.

  “I’ll be in touch.”

  “Just remember to be sober this time.” I wink at her, and even as I turn to go, I catch her flipping me off out of the corner of my eye.

  I arrived here really pissed off, but now, I’m actually looking forward to playing this little game with Mia. She just might turn out to be pretty damn fun.

  7

  Mia

  There is just something about a woman thriving. I feel like a completely different person, someone different from the one that I’ve been for the last few months, and the change feels pretty damn good, thank you very much. I can actually smell the scent of revenge in the air, and it is long overdue.

  Maybe, I should care that my revenge is coming in the form of a lie, but I can’t find it in me. Lying to a liar doesn’t inspire guilt in me, so I push my morals to the side and carry on with my day. I pull into the driveway of the farmhouse, quickly change my shoes from heels to a pair of slip on Vans, tie my sweater tightly around me, and then head inside.

  This time, unlike the last, there are at least five children running through the house, and Amy is frantically calling after them, and telling them to watch where they’re going.

  When her eyes land on me, they soften, and she sighs.

  “Oh, thank the lord. I’m so happy to see you right now, that I could kiss you.” She looks as tired as I feel, after being on my feet at my salon all day. But something about Amy’s appearance tugs at my heart and makes me forget all about the dull ache in my back that never seems to go away. She looks completely worn out. She’s clutching a Starbucks cup as if her life depends on it. There are stains covering her light colored flannel shirt that I’m not even able to depict where they came from. And the kids that she’s chasing after seem to give about two shits less that she’s telling them to stop.

  As the gang of them barrel up the stairs, she exhales loudly and shakes her head, letting her body drop onto a few boxes stacked against the wall.

  “Some days, I’ve got this all handled, and then others, I feel like a hamster on a wheel, running for my life and getting absolutely nowhere.”

  I know that I’m here only because I’m trying to get back at my ex, but all of that leaves my mind as I study Amy, taking in the bags underneath her eyes, the paleness to her skin, and the look of worry in her eyes.

  “What can I do to help you?”

  “I need a week’s worth of sleep, an all inclusive trip to the Bahama’s, and a gorgeous pool boy to constantly bring me cocktails.”

  “Amen, sister. That sounds amazing, but can we add into the fantasy that the cabana boy is hung like a horse and wearing a speedo? Because that really completes the picture in my head, and it is ah-mazing.”

  She grins.

  “Absolutely. As long as we’re talking the kind of hung that makes you ache for a week. The kind that you can’t really walk right after, looking like you just rode a damn horse.”

  I groan. “Girl. Don’t even tempt me with those types of fantasies. I haven’t ached like that in so long that just the thought alone…”

  “Is this seriously what you women talk about? What if he’s not hung? What if it’s teeny weeny but he knows how to work it?”

  His voice startles me, causing me to jump. Amy rolls her eyes, as Adrian glances between the two of us, eyeing the both of us mischievously. “Us little guys need some respect, too.”

  At that, Amy groans and stands up. “First of all, do not come in here digging for compliments, AJ. I’ve read all about your thing, and if you need your ego boosted, you should read that tabloids, too. The hens in your cock house love to dish about what you’re working with. And for the record, nobody wants it little. It doesn’t matter how hard you work it, a little dick is still, just a little dick.”

  I’m uncomfortable talking about penises now that there is actually one in the room, especially since it’s attached to a gorgeous man who is also my pretend boyfriend without any perks, so I immediately change the subject.

  “Back to what I can do to help you, here.” I smirk. “What do you need?”

  Amy goes on to tell me that all of the boxes of flooring need to be moved upstairs into the bedrooms. My stomach immediately sinks as I glance around the room, because there are at least a hundred boxes stacked in the entryway, and I’m guessing that they aren’t light. But Adrian just nods, and then lifts his chin at Amy as if she’s his homeboy. I’m confused by their relationship, but I shouldn’t waste any time on it. I mean, I’m currently about to start an imaginary relationship with the guy myself.

  “Mia and I can move all of the boxes upstairs.” His smirk widens at the look of horror on my face. “It’s almost seven as it is. You should get the kids home and fed so that they can get rolling for
tomorrow. It’s a school night.”

  “I don’t know…” Amy glances between the two of us, her eyes lingering on me and my weak self. “There are a lot of boxes.”

  The selfish part of me wants to agree with her. Yes, there are a lot of boxes. No, there’s no way that I am capable of performing that much manual labor. But instead, my mouth is saying something else completely, because my brain realizes that this woman is done. She’s about to break. So instead, my mouth tells her what she wants to hear.

  “Nah. There aren’t that many. I’m sure that Adrian and I can get it done in no time.”

  My back is now screaming at me, and my legs feel like I just did leg day seventeen days in a row. Which to be honest, I can’t relate to at all, because I never do leg day. I haven’t worked out like that in years. I’m only on my third trip of carrying a box of hardwood flooring up the twelve stairs, across one landing and then up six more stairs, and into a bedroom. My breathing is fast, but as Adrian continues to swish by me, I try not to breath so hard because I don’t want to seem weak, and I certainly don’t want him to know that I’m about to die.

  Pride man. It’s a bitch.

  “Are you doing ok?” He asks, as he sets down his three boxes next to my one, and then heads back towards the staircase with way too much pep in his step for my liking.

  I can’t even believe that he’s talking right now, since I’m having a hard enough time just breathing, but since I’m not a whiny bitch, I force myself to nod, and then continue back down the stairs.

  “You know, if this is too much for you, I can call some buddies to come by and carry these. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

  I think about his words as my back screams at me while lifting up another box. He could call someone. I mean, seriously…he’s got an entire football team of men at his disposal. Why are they so short on help around here with all of those available guys? But I don’t use any of my words, mostly because I can’t, and just shake my head once and continue on back up the stairs. I manage to make a few more trips with my pride intact, before finally doing exactly what Amy did earlier. I sink onto a few boxes and lean against the wall, ready to fall over.