“She didn’t know who I was,” I tell Dax with surety. “She’s a big fan of her dad, but not of the sport as a whole.”
He doesn’t seem convinced and just stares at me while he chews another big bite of his omelet. When he swallows, he asks, “So what in the hell are you going to do?”
While I’d told him about the dinner last night and how it went, I did not mention the details of what happened after at Brooke’s, but he knew I stayed there all night. Dax had been cooking an omelet when I walked in this morning feeling very loose and very sated despite the lack of sleep I’d had last night.
“For a few weeks, we’re going to pretend to be together,” I tell him nonchalantly. “Then we’ll sort of institute a break-up. We’ll figure it out as we go along so Coach isn’t too pissed at me. Brooke will probably be the one to dump me so she takes the heat.”
“This is about the dumbest fucking idea I’ve ever heard,” he mutters, then shovels the last forkful into his mouth.
“She was just trying to protect me.” I find myself defending her, for it was her actions alone that got us into this mess. “She didn’t want my relationship with her dad to start off badly.”
“No, it’s just starting off as a lie,” Dax points out after he swallows and pushes up out of his chair to take his plate to the sink.
“That it is, brother.” I lift my glass and throw back the rest of my shake.
“So what’s this chick like?” Dax says as he places his plate in the sink and turns to face me. He leans back against the counter and crosses his arms over his chest.
“Her name’s Brooke,” I mutter as I stand up, my intention to rinse my glass out and put it in the dishwasher.
“Sorry,” Dax says with a snort and moves to the side so I can access the sink. “What is Brooke like? I’m guessing great in the sack if the smile on your face when you walked in this morning is any indication.”
The shrug I give him is supposed to convey a casualness about Brooke that I most definitely don’t feel. “She’s cool.”
“Cool?”
“Yeah…cool,” I tell him before turning to the dishwasher to open it. I pull the top rack out, place my glass in it, and shut the door.
“How many condoms did you use last night?” Dax asks, slyly using a roundabout way of getting what he wants.
“Three,” I admit. I’ve certainly used more over the course of a long night, but I don’t bother to tell Dax that we did plenty of stuff without a condom too. After all, he didn’t ask how many orgasms I’d had.
Dax laughs and claps me on the back. “At least you’re getting something good out of all this.”
“That’s one way to look at it,” I say with a laugh.
“So what’s her deal?” Dax turns from me to put his plate in the dishwasher. One thing I’m glad of is that we’re both sort of neat freaks.
I move back to the table and sit down. We don’t have to be at the arena for practice until 2 P.M., although Dax and I had planned to go work out this morning. Still, we’re not on a tight schedule. “She used to work for a fashion magazine in New York. Has a degree in fashion merchandising. But she lost her mom in February and her dad is really taking it hard, so she moved to Phoenix to be near him. I didn’t ask her, but I suspect that job in team services might have been created for her.”
Dax nods as he turns from putting his plate in the dishwasher. He nabs a bottled water from the fridge and comes to sit back down at the table. “Hard to believe that crusty son of a bitch has a soft side, huh?”
“I don’t know. I imagine part of his coaching demeanor is just put on to set the tone with us. He seemed a lot more laid back at dinner last night. After he got through will all his bluster and threats. I didn’t tell you that part…He sort of demanded I put a ring on Brooke’s finger.”
Dax’s eyebrows shoot up. “Are you?”
“Fuck no,” I tell him, appalled he’d even ask. “Why would I buy a thirty-thousand-dollar piece of jewelry for a sham?”
“Rings cost that fucking much?” he asks, eyebrows completely disappearing…perhaps rolling off the back of his head.
“I don’t know,” I say sarcastically. “Maybe. The point being the only way I’m ever shelling out money for a diamond or putting it on a woman’s hand is if I love her, and I don’t have any plans to be doing that anytime soon.”
Dax’s eyebrows reappear and he nods in understanding. “How are you going to play this with the team? There’s going to be all kinds of get-togethers this week, and she’ll probably be traveling with us.”