The plan is simple. First, sit him down and flatter the shit out of him. Laugh at his crappy jokes. Touch his arm, let it linger. When he asks me out, I’ll flutter my eyelashes and shyly accept. Then, make him fall in love. And devour him. I’m ready. I won’t fail. But there’s one thing that I didn’t plan for: he doesn’t ask me out. Instead, he calls me out on my BS. He’s not wrong, but that’s just one of the ways that my plan has already gone terribly wrong before it even begins.
When he does finally ask me out, it isn’t much of a date. Instead, it’s a few agonizing hours of going back and forth about why we hate each other. But there is one interesting thing that came out of our brief time together: the bet that Hawk makes with me- that he will make me fall in love in 3 weeks, in love for real. If he fails, he’ll give me every exclusive for the season. Of course, I accept. Why wouldn’t I? This will help my career, and it’s not like he has a prayer anyway. This jerk broke my heart in high school, and there’s no way that I will fall for the same trick twice. Or will I?
All bets are off when it comes to the heart. Fumbled is a standalone sports romcom that will make you wonder what to do when love- and football- gives you a second chance….
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said. She was quick enough to turn off the voice recording and hold her phone in her lap.
I arched an eyebrow at her. "I know when someone is faking it."
"Happen often?" she quipped. Her eyes snapped with something that hadn't been there before; anger. No, maybe it was there and I hadn't wanted to see it.
I smiled. A real smile. She wasn't the only one putting on an act. Frankly, it felt good to drop it.
"Only out in public," I replied with confidence. "In private, it's always real, and satisfying."
I expected her to blush, but she didn't. Instead, she gave me an epic eye roll. Yeah, I guess I deserved that.
"Sure," she said sarcastically. She crossed her legs at her knees.
I stared, I admit it, but she had longer legs than I remember, and bigger breasts. Were they real? I tried to get a good look when she entered the room, but I couldn't tell.
I shook my head to clear it. "You didn't answer my question. Why did you pretend you didn't know me?"
"Why did you?" she shot back. "I had no reason to believe you did. It was a long time ago."
It was. And it wasn't. The fuzzy memories of high school came back in a rush and almost knocked the wind out of me. I lowered my arms and gripped the sides of the chair beside my thighs.
I lowered my face and closed my eyes for a few moments.
"Yeah, it was." I looked back up at her. Her green eyes watched me intently. Had they always been that color? They weren't contacts, or she wouldn't be wearing glasses too. I guess they were then. My mother used to have a jade statue almost that exact shade. Where was that statue now? I had no idea. Maybe Dad threw it out after…
Before I could say another word, she spoke.
"Why do you think I did it?" She gave me a challenging look through her long lashes.
I hissed in a silent breath through my teeth. "I don't know," I said. "Maybe you thought I would open up more if you acted like a groupie."
She snorted. Now there was the Beckie I knew.
I rested an elbow on the arm of the chair and hid a smile by rubbing my upper lip, just under my nose. I could use a shave.
"If you were actually Hawkeye, it might not be an act," she said.
I couldn't hold back a grin now. "I can't believe you actually pretended not to know who the Hulk was."
She responded with a smirk. "I can't believe you think you have his physique."
Touché. "It sounds like you're the green one," I retorted. I puffed out my chest. It didn't hurt to remind her how fit I was. It took a lot of work to get to this point and I was proud of it. The fact women seemed to like it was a bonus.
She barked a laugh. "Hardly."
I shrugged with one shoulder. "At least I didn't compare myself to Thor." I only did that in the mirror.
"Not in public," she said, shooting my words back at me. "What about in private?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?" She seemed bitter about something, but I enjoyed the banter. Other than Mary, few women were so real. Once Becca stopped being fake, that was.
"Not if you were the last guy on Earth," she replied.
When I find my boyfriend cheating on me with another guy’s girlfriend, the last thing I want is to get him back. Instead, I reach out to the boyfriend of the girl that he was cheating with. Chase is a star football player, and I can’t quite wrap my head around the fact that someone would be dumb enough to cheat on him. Together, we hatch a plan: We’ll pretend to date so that our exes can see what they’ve been missing.
As the two of us get closer and thoughts of my ex start to drift away, things begin to heat up, and we both get scared. Feelings were not part of the bargain, but it looks like it’s not going to matter. Are the wounds from our exes too fresh for us to overcome? Will we be able to leave the lie that we have been living in, or will admitting our true feelings so that it was the truth all along?
Especially for Bam, a football player arrested for a bar fight. Never mind that he was defending someone. That doesn’t matter; all that matters is that he is a big, brawny football player. Even the owner of the team he plays for doesn’t care.
His image needs some serious work.
That’s where I come in. I’m a publicist assigned to help his public reputation. To say the two of us don’t get along— That’s an understatement.
I make it clear that I only need one thing from him: do as he’s told and show up when I tell him to.
Simple.
The one speaking engagement I get him, a huge honor, he doesn’t even show up, and now my job is on the line.
Can the two of us set the record straight? And, as we get closer, will we find that our jobs aren’t the only things on the line, but our hearts as well?
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This looks fun. Just bought it! Thanks
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ReplyDeleteSounds like great series, thanks for sharing!
ReplyDeleteThis is one good looking cover!
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