Rule Play (Saints of Love Book 1) Page 7

  But there are a few good guys on my team, a few that I’ve let myself get close to, ones that I know will always have my back, when it’s most important, behind my back. Wyatt is my number one. Jude Masters and Declan Sanders are the other two. The rest of the guys on my team can suck it.

  “My shoe sales are shit. My jerseys aren’t selling, and my agent thinks that it’s because I don’t do social media. Nobody seems to care that I’m at the top of my game. All that they want is for me to post updates and shit like that.” I slam my locker door shut and throw my bag over my shoulder. “It’s total bullshit.”

  Wyatt tosses his stuff into the dirty bin and follows me out of the locker room. Once we’re out of earshot of the rest of the team, he pats my shoulder.

  “Not to be a dick, but if today was any indication of how tomorrow’s game is going to go, then you can’t claim to be on the top of your game, because you were not today.”

  I don’t even bother to argue with him. He’s completely right.

  “And honestly, the whole social media thing?” We make it to the parking lot, and he stops in front of my Rover. “I was famous on Instagram before I even had a contract. For me, that stuff has always been second nature, but it’s a lot of people’s downfall. Some people post too much, some like you, not enough. Either way, it’s a fine line, but I think Rodney’s right. You need to involve your fans more in your personal life if you want them to buy your shit. I’m not saying tell them all of your dirty secrets or anything, but you’ve got to give them something.” At my face, he holds up his hands. “I’m not saying anything about Amy and the kids. You’re the best motherfucker that I know, Malone, because most guys would blast that shit just to become Instafamous. But you don’t, because you do that good shit because you’re a good guy. But there’s gotta be something else that you can share with them. Just hire somebody if you need to. There’s all kinds of people who will manage your accounts, so that you don’t have to. I promise, it’s easy.”

  It might be easy to him, but to me, sharing my personal life isn’t something that I’m comfortable with. And I certainly don’t want to hire some stranger to do it for me. I’ve always lived by the idea that the more I share; the more people want to dig. The more that people dig, means a better chance of people learning parts of my past that I prefer to keep to myself. I don’t like putting myself out there too much, which is why I’ve always stayed away from social media. But, let’s be honest. I’m living this life for more than just the love of the game. I’m also in it for the money, as shitty as it sounds.

  Amy needs money to keep the orphanage up and running. The money that I earn paid off my mom’s mortgage. It paid off Kat’s parents’ mortgage. And it’s given me security.

  Of course, I earn a damn good living off of my contract alone, but Rodney’s right. One injury, and I’m done for. My jersey’s and my shoes will continue to sell. The better that I play right now, means the more offers I get, and that’s more money for me to live my life on.

  I just don’t like what I have to do for it.

  I change the subject to tomorrow's game, and we stand there talking about some plays for a while, until all of the other cars have pulled out of our private parking lot. By the time that I’m in my own car and heading towards the house, my head is spinning, but even behind that, I begin to form a plan.

  10

  Mia

  It’s a much nicer day than it was a week ago, and also unlike last week, I’m excited to be here. Today, all of the kids are here at the river house. The sun is shining, and while there is still a chill to the air, it’s nice enough to be outside with just a hoodie and jeans on.

  The kids are down in the barn taking care of the animals, so I’m inside of the house today with Amy, listening to country music play through my portable speaker, while we paint the bedrooms. Personally, I would have chosen to paint the walls first, but Amy didn’t do that, so I take my time as to not splatter paint onto the brand new hardwood floors. The room that I’m in is going to be one of the girl’s rooms, and while I’ve never been much of a pink person, I’m actually pretty excited with the way that this soft pink is turning out. It’s going to be perfect for the little girls, and I’m excited to be able to take part in giving them a new place to call home. Even if the only reason that I’m here is for a court order.

  But even while I say that, it’s only partially true at this point. I really like Amy. It’s hard not to like the woman, especially since I know how much she sacrifices for these kids. I don’t know much of her story, but she’s mentioned in passing a few times how she isn’t able to have kids of her own. I also know that she used to work in the emergency room as a social worker, which is how she acquired her very first foster kid. I guess the rest is history at this point, and I’m really lucky to have met her. I’m even luckier that I got picked to be here of all places, because now after being here a few times, I know that I won the community service jackpot.

  I’ve got a little pep in my step this morning, and I’m in a better mood than I’ve been in a long time. I just have a feeling that today is going to be a good day, and it was only made better when Amy told me that Adrian, or as she calls him, AJ, had practice today, so he wouldn’t be here.

  Thank you, sweet baby Jesus.

  I have no interest in seeing the guy. I have no interest in having him put me down again or make me feel two feet tall. I completely regret the things that I said to Brett and Michael Ann in the first place, which are the only reason that I ended up in this mess to begin with. I’m not sorry about getting to meet Amy and these kids, though. I’m only sorry that my words put me in the path of one of the most arrogant assholes to have ever walked the planet.

  I mean, that jackass had the nerve to call me pathetic. And then, he insinuated that I have a drinking problem. As if.

  Yes, I’ve been drinking more than I normally would, but my life was flipped upside down. It seems only natural, and frankly, I don’t really give a shit what he thinks of me anyways. Just because he’s gorgeous and rich doesn’t give him a right to start judging other people. He can kindly fuck right off.

  Plus, I bet if I went through his phone? He’d have a whole slew of numbers for hookups. I literally have one in my phone. One.

  Sorry, not sorry.

  I’m not starstruck by the guy. Maybe if I were a football fan, I would be. But seriously, all that the guy does is go out onto the field and throw a damn ball. My job is way harder than his, so I’m not impressed. He can keep his pretty face and his wad of cash.

  I’m all set.

  I turn my music up a little bit louder and begin to sing along. Brett always hated country, but I’ve always loved it. So, it was never something that I listened to a whole lot around him, but in a way, even though being without him sucks, it’s kind of nice to play music strictly because I like it. This whole single thing definitely took me by surprise, and I wasn’t ready for it, but there is something liberating about it. And not all parts of it suck the way that I imagined.

  I get all of the cutting work done, so I put my paintbrush away, dust off my hands, and begin to set up paint in a pan and prep my roller. I’m definitely no pro at painting, but I’ve done a good job so far, and didn’t get a single smudge of paint on the floor, or on the ceiling, so I’m pretty proud of myself. But I barely make it through one wall with my roller, before I’m interrupted. And not in the way that I wanted to be.

  “Mia.” His voice causes me to still, and every hair on my body stands on end. I instantly grimace, before finally sighing and turning around.

  “Adrian.” My voice is hardly a greeting. “What are you doing here? Amy said you wouldn’t be coming today.”

  His mouth flattens.

  “I always come after practice on Saturdays. This is my house, after all. What are you still doing here? Your community service hours end at five.”

  I glance down at my phone, surprising even myself when I realize that it’s almost seven o’clock. I wasn’t wa
tching the clock of course, I was mostly just trying to finish up this room, and I plan on doing just that before I leave.

  “I’m finishing what I started, today. Amy is working on the boy’s rooms, and my job was the girls. I got the first coat on the room next door, the purple room, and now I’m almost done with the first coat of pink in here.”

  I take a step back and admire my work. I really do love the color, and the way that it’s turning out.

  “I need a favor.” Adrian’s voice changes, and I take notice. He looks nervous, shifting back and forth on his feet, and not meeting my eyes. I just roll mine.

  “Yeah? How’s it feel to need? Because I’ve been needing an apology from you for almost a week now, and I still haven’t gotten it.”

  I run my roller through the paint, and then get back to my wall. Adrian is so quiet behind me, that for a second I think that he may have walked away. But then I hear him clear his throat.

  “I’m sorry for what I said to you, Mia. It wasn’t very nice.”

  “Apologies are best when the person who deserves it doesn’t have to beg for it.” I continue painting, not bothering to even turn around to let him see the anger in my eyes. Adrian’s a smart guy, at least I think he is. I’m sure he can tell that I’m still pissed at him by the tone of my voice.

  “You should have immediately apologized to me. Instead, I had to dig for it. That’s not cool, Adrian. Not cool at all.”

  He’s silent. But then, I hear his feet move across the floor, and then, I hear his sharp breaths behind me.

  “Look, I really am sorry, alright? I just…” The change in his tone causes my attention to shift. He’s really close to me, close enough that I can see the tension on his face. My rolling motion stops, and I blink at him, waiting for him to continue.

  “Your booty call contact pissed me off, alright? I mean, here, I was going to do you a favor, but you were just going to use me to get your ex back, all while getting laid by some guy on the side and making me look like an idiot. I didn’t mean that you’re pathetic, because it’s not your fault that he cheated on you. But using me to get your cheating ex back is kind of pathetic.”

  The roller falls to my side, and my mouth flattens.

  “You have no right to judge me. You don’t even know me, and you don’t know what Brett and I had, alright? Just because you think that you’re some big hot shot doesn’t give you the right to pass judgement on me. I’ve been around you for over a week now, and I’ve yet to pass judgement on you. You’re welcome, by the way, because there is a lot of you to judge.”

  “How so?” His arms cross, and he meets my glare with one of his own. “There isn’t shit to judge about me, sweetheart. You don’t know me like that, but if you did, you’d know that I’m a damn good guy.”

  “I googled you, asshole.” I roll my eyes. “You’re judging me for having a single booty call contact, while you have many. I bet you sleep with a different woman every weekend, with no shame to your game. You’re what? Late twenties? And never once have you had a serious relationship. You don’t know what it’s like, so don’t even try to tell me why I shouldn’t want what I had back. Because what I had was perfect. It was amazing. And it was going to be my happily ever after. There’s nothing wrong with wanting that back.”

  His eyes flash, and even though it’s fleeting, I see an emotion there that I’m all too familiar with. Pain. It takes me by surprise, since just a second ago our glares were hard enough to kill. But just as quickly as I see the look, it’s gone, and in its place, is a cocky grin and a devilish look in his eyes.

  “Well, then sounds like you need me, because otherwise, your ex is going to find out that you lied to him. And then, there’s no way that he’s going to want you back. If what you had with him was so good, then you’ve got to do something to make him jealous. In case you haven’t caught up yet, that thing that you gotta do? Is me. Right here.” He smacks his chest. “You need me, sweetheart. Just as much as I need you.”

  I weigh his words.

  He is right. I mean, if I have any chance at making Brett jealous, Adrian is my dynamite. But as far as doing him? I mean…is he serious?

  “Wait.” I set the roller down before I drop it onto the floor and study the man in front of me. “When you say to do you…do you mean, like, do you?” I motion between our bodies. His eyes darken, and his head tilts to the side. He returns my stare, and as he does, an unwelcome shiver washes over me. I feel like he’s undressing me with his eyes, and for some reason unbeknownst to me, I kind of…like it?

  I can’t be sure.

  “Easy there, Mia. I wasn’t offering sex to you, but yeah, I mean, if you’ve got to get it from somewhere, then I’d be your guy. Because you need me, but I need to not be made to look like a chump. Which leads me to what I need from you.”

  I’m listening. In fact, I’m hanging on his every word, and I’m not too impressed with myself. Exactly ten minutes ago, I was writing this guy off and cursing his name. Now, as I find myself under his stare, I’m doing the exact opposite. I’m nervous and aching to hear what he has to say. Plus, I can’t seem to pull my eyes away from the dark brown eyes on his beautiful face, that only seem to darken with every word. I take a step backwards, instinctively, trying to put some distance between him and the effect that he’s having on my body.

  “Turns out, I kind of need a girlfriend too. We’re going to have to go real public with this though, because I’ve got to give my fans a sneak peek at my life. Apparently, I’ve been failing at that.”

  “Finally, we agree on something.” I cross my arms. “I looked you up on Instagram. Your profile is lame.”

  “So, then I’m going to fill it up with pictures of us and make it better.” Just one corner of his mouth tips up, and my heart begins to race. He moves slowly towards me, causing the air to shift between us. He reaches out, grabbing me around my waist and pulling me into him. I have to hold my hands up to keep my balance, but they land squarely on his chest, and as my fingers feel the chiseled muscles beneath his shirt, my breath catches.

  “Look at the camera, baby.” He murmurs, and then as I do, his lips press against my cheek. He snaps the photo, and then once he’s done, he releases me and steps away from me, checking it out for himself.

  “Damn, looks pretty believable to me.” My phone dings about a second later, and when I look at the screen, my eyes widen.

  In the picture, my cheeks are flushed, and my pupils are dilated. My hair is slightly a mess, but I mean, I’ve been painting all day, so what should I expect?

  Except, my hair doesn’t look like I’ve been working all day…it looks like I’ve just romped around in the sack.

  I swallow hard, my anxiety kicking into overdrive.

  “So, are we really doing this?”

  His cocky grin is back.

  “It’s already done, babes. I just made my first post to Instagram. We’re not just going public, we’re about to go viral. My money’s going to roll in, and your ex?” He cocks an eyebrow at me, and then winks, sending my heart into race mode.

  “He’s going to grovel so hard, that he just might cry.”

  The idea of Brett crying over me excites me more than it should. But dammit all, it’s payback time.

  And paybacks, are a bitch.

  “But, what about the rules?” I swallow hard, barely able to meet Adrian’s heavy gaze.

  “I’m not saying that we need to break any yet, but, if need be, rule number one can be broken.”

  My heart races in my chest.

  “Rule number two, though?” His eyes lock with mine. “That one has to stand. It will stand, so just as long as we’re clear…”

  “Crystal clear.”

  The next morning, I’m laying down on my couch enjoying a cup of coffee, while Sophia is splayed out on the chaise lounge portion of my sectional next to me, giggling like a schoolgirl.

  “You are five likes away from a million. Do you have any idea how many people know your face now?�
� I glance over her shoulder and roll my eyes.

  “Yeah. Nine hundred thousand, nine hundred and ninety five.”

  “Smartass.” She mutters, but then shoves her phone closer to me. “Mia, seriously. You should check to see if Michael Ann or Brett were one of the likes. If they were, then they know. And if they know, they are literally bleeding jealousy right now. This is so good.”

  I’m never going to admit it, even to my best friend, but I already tried looking through all of the people who liked the picture this morning. Almost a million people is a lot to scroll through, so after about ten minutes, I gave up. But I know that they both follow Adrian on social media, so odds are, if they didn’t like it, I’m guessing that they’ve at least seen it. It gives me a powerful feeling that even I can’t fully describe.

  “I’m not going to waste my time looking to see if they liked it.” Lies. But anyhow, moving on. “They’ll see it soon enough. Adrian needs to post a lot to his social media because his shoe sales suck.”

  Sophia shrugs. “Makes sense. So, he’s using you, just as much as you’re using him. Fairs fair, I guess.”

  “Yeah.” I return my eyes to my coffee. “We’re both getting something out of it.”

  And, I just might be getting more than I bargained for. Originally, when this plan was concocted, nowhere in my wildest dreams had I considered actually sleeping with Adrian as part of the bargain. But for him to add that into the equation, well…to be honest, it fills me with anxiety.