âYouâre insane.â
âInsanely genius,â Clay argued, resting his elbows on the table between us as he leaned toward me. It was almost comical, how massive his arms were compared to the tiny table, which wobbled precariously on its thin legs as it took his weight.
âI⦠itâs justâ¦
.â
I pushed my glasses up the bridge of my nose, cold fingertips brushing my hot cheeks as I uncrossed my legs just to cross them the other way. I then crossed my arms over my chest, all body language pointing to how uncomfortable I was with this conversation and the proposal in it.
I was here to coach Clay Johnson how to be better with the media after his breakup â which had thus far been agonizing not only for him, but for the entire team.
I was here for him to tease me about my crush on Shawn Stetson, or to con me into some ridiculous fake relationship to get his attention.
âLook, G,â Clay said.
âGiana,â I corrected.
âIâm a guy, and as a guy, I know what guys want. At least â most, straight, sane guys. And Iâm telling you.
guy?â He pointed a finger at where Shawn was playing his set on stage at the little coffee shop we were at. âHe wants a woman of mystery, one who can be his muse, who will be a little hard to get, a little out of his league.â
My eyes nearly bulged out of my skull before I covered Clayâs gargantuan finger with both my hands and shoved it down, quickly glancing at Shawn to make sure he hadnât seen.
âI can have him eating out of the palm of your hand by Thanksgiving.â
âHe barely knows I exist,â I said, voice barely a whisper.
âAnother thing I can help with,â he said, sweeping a large hand over himself. âDo you think on this campus could ignore the girl who has Clay Johnsonâs attention?â
I rolled my eyes at the cocky insinuation, but couldnât argue against his point.
It was true.
That massive hunk of muscle and those piercing green eyes had been off the market since Clay walked onto North Boston Universityâs campus â much to every girlâs dismay. And while been a miserable prick since he and Maliyah broke up, the groupies that followed the team around like flies were begging for even a taste of his affection.
Stillâ¦
âHeâs a musician,â I pointed out. âHe probably couldnât care less about football.â
Just then, Shawn finished the song heâd been playing, and after strumming his guitar a few times, he spoke right into the mic and said, âLadies and gentlemen, we have a celebrity here with us tonight. Clay Johnson, NBUâs best safety and a shoe in for the NFL. Make sure to get your autographs while you can.â
Clay held up a hand in a humble wave, and then pointed a seductive smirk and wink at the girls who freaked out and turned his way, all quietly whispering to their friends and nudging one another like they were picking straws over who would try to talk to him first.
âAny requests, man?â Shawn asked next.
Clay eyed me with that damn smirk still securely in place. âHow about by Snow Patrol?â
I rolled my eyes again, and as Shawn began to play, Clay leaned in even closer.
âAre you out of arguments yet?â
I sighed. âSo, let me get this straight. We would be in a fake relationship, in which you, hypothetically, would help me get Shawn, and Iâ¦â I blinked, coming up blank. âWould do , exactly? I mean⦠whatâs in this for you?â
A shadow of something washed over his face then, and he sat back, shrugging a bit before he drank half his beer in one gulp. âMaliyah.â
I frowned. âI donât understand.â
âI know my girl,â he said, his eyes more determined than Iâd ever seen â and that was saying something, because Iâd seen him power down the field for an impossible interception more than a few times. âI know that she still loves me, still wants me, but thinks thereâs something better out there. Sheâs always wanted the best. Itâs just part of who she is.â
I had to fight to keep my lip from curling at how he made all of that sound like a good quality.
âBut when she sees me with someone else, when she thinks Iâve moved on?â He shook his head with a devilish smile. âThat green monster will get her. Sheâll be begging to get me back.â
I wrinkled my nose. âI donât know, Clay⦠I donât know if I want to play these games.â
âTrust me â
plays them. So, if youâre not playing â no, if youâre not ?â He shrugged. âYouâre losing.â
I chewed my lip, eyes skirting to where Shawn strummed his guitar on stage. My heart did a backflip just like it always did when his gaze washed over me, even though it was so quick I barely registered the color of his golden eyes before they were gone again.
All my life, Iâd been too scared to go for what I wanted â I was the exact of Maliyah, of Clay, of everyone I worked with on the team.
I was content to be in the background.
But now, for the first time, I found myself yearning for the spotlight.
And for a freaking boyfriend.
Uncrossing my legs, I leaned forward, folding my hands together on the table. âWe need terms. Conditions. Rules.â
When a smooth tilt of Clayâs lips was his only response, I wondered just how much trouble I was getting myself into.