“Who, Thad? Uh—no. He’s not superficial at all.” Okay, that may not be entirely true. Clearly Mia is drop-dead gorgeous, so that was the first thing that attracted him to her. But she’s funny and sweet and those are the things that keep him attracted to her.
“Whatever you say.”
She does not sound convinced.
“Thad and I are sapiosexuals—we recently discovered this after too many bottles of beer, while paying close attention to the halftime commercial during a football game on one of Thad’s bye weeks. One came on for an online dating app, ergo, we’re sapiosexuals.”
That’s how I know Thad likes Mia for Mia, and not because Mia looks like a model.
Er.
Yeah.
“A sapio-what now?”
“Sapiosexual. Finding someone’s mind to be the most attractive thing about them over physical appearances.”
Juliet snorts. “Oh yeah? Then why has he been photographed with actresses and models if he’s so attracted to brains?”
I laugh, amused. “Please. Don’t believe everything you see online.”
She is still not convinced and how did this trail become so damn long? Are we there yet?
“Don’t believe everything I see or read online? How can you say that when he’s photographed with a beautiful new someone every single week?”
“It’s part of the job.”
She snorts again. “Uh, okay.”
“Did a bug fly up your nose? Why do you keep snorting?”
She waves a hand aimlessly. “It’s just something I unintentionally do, okay? I inherited the snort gene from my mother.”
“Genetic snorting?”
“Yes.”
“Hey.” I touch her arm to stop her before we’re down on the shore, within hearing distance of Thad and Mia. “I was being serious—before Thad met Mia, part of his job was to pretend to be dating certain people. Publicists set it up, it’s basically publicity stunts, more so, for the actresses and models. Helps everyone out.”
“How does that help out a football player?”
“Because, the more fans and public love him, the more visible he is on social media, the more companies want to endorse him.” Long story short? Money.”
She’s silent. Then, “Oh. I guess that makes sense.”
We continue walking. “And for the record, some of those gorgeous women you’ve seen were his sisters. He brings them to events a lot and they are stunning.”
“Models too, no doubt.”
“No. Keelee is a fifth grade teacher who happens to be married, and Victoria is getting her master’s. He’s brought both of them to the ESPY’s a few times, but mostly, his agent sets up photo ops with female celebrities to boost his popularity. Happens all the time.”
“Interesting.”
“Yeah—so don’t be thinking he’s a scumbag skirt chaser. He’s not.”
Juliet seems to take my word on this as we finally arrive at the fishing boat that’s been pulled up to the shore, fishing poles sticking out in their holders, the guide already in the driver seat. I don’t remember hiring one—both Thad and I know a thing or two about how to drive a boat, and with four adults in the small space? It sure would be a tight fit if the dude stays.
He’s as big as we are.
I notice a large wicker picnic basket and a big beverage cooler taking up additional precious space; one more body just isn’t going to work, even if someone is going to use the cooler as seating.
“Hey, Captain?” I greet the guy. “I don’t think we hired a guide for the day? Tomorrow night we have someone driving the sunset cruise, but today, I believe we are on our own?” I don’t want to come off as a complete asshole, so I pose it as a question.
“That right?” The dude takes off his ballcap and scratches his chin. “Fine by me. I’ll just pull her up to the dock, so you can all safely board and if you aren’t needin’ me today, I can come back in a few hours.” He waits while Thad and I deliberate.
“Yeah buddy, I think we’re good. I’ve been driving about half my life.” My buddy digs in his back pocket and produces his wallet, peeling it open and shelling out a few bills.
Not wanting to look like a schmuck, I do the same.
“Thanks for your time, bro, appreciate it. We’ll circle back around at the end of the day.”
Can we pause to mention that Thad is sponsored by a wildlife and outdoor supply company? Yeah, he does do the scout and fishing guide thing more often than not, but I think today he was looking forward to some privacy with Mia.
Pretty lake. Pretty girl.
Picnic lunch.
Quiet setting, beautiful weather.
Kind of romantic in a way.
The guy wants to flirt with his girlfriend and show off a little bit—can’t quite do that with a professional in the boat giving you instructions you’re already familiar with, can you?
Don’t blame him for tipping the guy and sending him on his merry way.
“Cell service should be good, I’ll shoot you my number.”
Now my best friend is scratching at his chin in thought. “How about we call it three o’clock—don’t want to be out terribly long, the girls may get bored.”