And there it is.My weakness exposed like a nerve.
I think of the utilities bill.Of Bea’s wide-eyed pride when she finished her book report.Of Malik’s cocky grin when he sank his last shot with CJ cheering like he’d won gold.
We need money, we need visibility, and CJ knows it.
And you want to go out with him,my subconscious whispers.
“You’re impossible,” I mutter.
“I’ve been told that before.”He leans forward, grinning again.
“We’re not dating, though,” I argue.“No one will believe it.”
“We could be.”
“We’re not,” I say, desperately trying to keep some semblance of professionalism between us.
“People will believe it.It will be okay,” he assures me.He rests his elbows on his knees.“So, is that a yes?”
“It’s a reluctant maybe,” I tell him.“And only because the center comes first.”
“Reluctant maybe is my favorite kind of yes.”
“Ground rules,” I blurt.“We need ground rules.”
“I expected nothing less from you.”
“No touching that isn’t strictly necessary, we remember that this is just pretend, and you will behave like a professional.”
He smirks.“Define professional.”
I glare.
“Fine, fine.”He holds up his hands.“Scout’s honor.”
“You were never a scout.”
“I could’ve been.”
I sigh, already regretting every life choice that led me here.
“Okay.We’re fake dating.”
I ignore the thrill that shoots through me at those words.
He rises, tipping his cap like some ridiculous cowboy, and then he’s gone, leaving me staring at my laptop, heart pounding like I’ve just agreed to juggle knives.
That night, after the kids are gone and the center is dark, I sit at my desk with the utilities notice beside me.
I think about telling him I’ve changed my mind.I need to protect myself from his grin, his chaos, his ability to get under my skin.But then I picture Malik sinking that shot.Bea typing her conclusion with fierce determination.The sisters with their pink and glitter coding project.
And I know with sinking inevitability that I can’t back out now.
Because I always put the center first.
Because deep down, I do want to get closer to the charming goalie.
And because maybe, just maybe, CJ Morgan isn’t quite what I thought.
