“Notmy missus,” I mutter, but the call is already dead. Rude.
I look out over the endless ocean, heaving a heavy exhale. “Well, there’s no going back now, Devereaux.”
CHAPTER 9
POPPY
“So, I heard a little rumor…”
I spin around from my locker to find Rodrigo standing right there, eyes huge behind his spectacles, eyebrows waggling up and down.
“Rodrigo!” I gasp, my gaze flitting side-to-side. “This is theladies’locker room…”
“Oh, pfft.” He waves a hand, rolling his eyes indulgently. “I’m more of aladythan half the whores around here.”
I bite back a smirk.
“So…” Rodrigo leans in, his smile knowing. “Brookes Devereaux, huh?”
I quickly turn back to my locker in a pathetic attempt at trying to hide the truth. Looking at my reflection in the small mirror on the inside of my locker door, I slide my sun visor on, making sure it doesn’t ruin the sleek ponytail that just took me forever to secure.
“What about him?” I shrug a shoulder, opting to play dumb.
“Victoria overheard Peter tell Richie that Joshua said Brookes beat the hell out of a bunch of drunk D-bags on the twelfth green because they were hassling you, and that you’re hisgirlfriend!”
“Oh my God.” I laugh because honestly, the way gossip travels around this place, it’s like being back in middle school. Turning, I meet Rodrigo’s dubious stare. “No, Brookes did notbeatthe hellout of anyone, but he did tell them to back off.”
“Oh.” Rodrigo looks deflated at the lack of dramatics.
But, since this is actually happening, and, as of right now, I’m under contract as Brookes’ fake girlfriend, I offer a small, slightly coy smile. “And, yes. Brookes and I are…” I trail off because, for the record, I’m possibly the worst liar ever to exist and, in hindsight, maybe agreeing to be someone’s fake girlfriend was a terrible idea.
“Oh!” Rodrigo shrieks, covering his mouth with his hands, his eyes nearly bugging out of their respective sockets. “I knew it!” he mutters from behind his palms, one eye narrowing suspiciously. “When I saw you two in the parking lot last night, I knew something was going on.”
All I can do is smile, tugging nervously at the hem of my polo shirt.
“Oh my God, he’ssohot!” Rodrigo groans, but then catches himself, holding a hand to his chest as he says, “It’s okay that I say that, right?”
“It’s fine.” I laugh. And it’s the truth. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find Brookes Devereaux attractive. He’s kind of everything—tall, muscular, tattooed, eyes that resemble a clear August sky… that kind ofeverything. The whole package. But he’s also my pseudo boss right now, so I turn back to my locker to grab my ID card, avoiding Rodrigo’s unwavering stare.
“So, is it true?”
“Is what true?” I ask, looping my ID lanyard over my head and grabbing my water bottle
“The monster cock rumor?”
“What?” Startled by his question, I drop my water bottle, the metal clanging loudly against the tile.
Rodrigo picks the bottle up for me, handing it over, hiseyebrows dancing up and down yet again. “Does he really have a monster cock?”
My cheeks flame as I try to muddle my way through a response. “I-I… It’s new… I don’t know… y-yet.”
“Oh, girl. I think you’re in forquitea surprise.” Rodrigo pulls his phone from his pocket, and before I can even prepare myself, he’s thrusting the screen in my face.
Rearing back, I’m forced to blink a few times before finally coming to enough to see a zoomed-in image of a khaki covered crotch, with a penis-shaped outline that, in Rodrigo’s defense, could only be described as a monster…cock.
“Oh my God!” I gasp, unable to hide my shock and, frankly, my horror.
“Yeah,” Rodrigo says with a smirk, tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek. “Better start doing your Kegels, girl.”
