“Sorry, I didn’t mean to ambush you here. Willow and I were out for lunch and she assumed I was coming to see you. I couldn’t figure a way to get out of it.”
“Sadie, stop.” Maverick’s firm tone halts my ramble. “It’s fine. It’s honestly probably a good thing. They seemed to buy it, that we’re together.”
My head bobs up and down. “Okay. Cool. Yay! Mission accomplished.”
He gives me a hard look. “Not yet.”
I gulp again. “I know. But it’s agood start.”
At that, he seems to deflate slightly. “Yeah.” Lifting his hat from his head, he runs his fingers through dark blond hair before setting the hat back down. “C’mon, I’ll walk you to your car.”
He’s silent the entire way back to where I parked outside the diner. But once I’m sitting down, instead of walking away, Maverick stops and leans down to look at me. “What did you tell Willow about us?”
I raise my eyebrows. “Oh, so now you want to discuss our backstory?”
His lips actually tip up for the briefest of seconds. “Just so we’re on the same page.”
I click my seat belt in place before answering with a wry smirk of my own.
“I’ll text you.”
Chapter seven
Sadie
“Nope. You’re not wearing that.” Ali snatches the blouse out of my hand and shoves it back in my closet. “The email from what’s his face, the agent guy, said ‘casual shopping excursion.’ You don’t wear a freaking blouse and dress pants to spend the afternoon with your boyfriend.”
I drop back down on my bed, already exhausted, and it’s not even noon. “This is crazy, isn’t it? A staged outing to a farmer’s market with a man who would probably rather be doing anything else with his Wednesday evening.”
“Ahotman whoneedsyou. Don’t sell yourself short.” Ali tosses a tank top at me that I catch at the last minute.
I look at it with a frown. “I can’t wear this.”
“Yes, you can.” She passes over a pair of shorts that I’ve worn exactly once, last summer when we went to the beach for the day.
“Ali, these barely cover my butt,” I protest, but my alleged best friend is ignoring me, whipping out a sheer kimono and throwing that at me as well.
“Listen, babe, I know you’re used to covering up and blending in, but it’s okay to let loose a little. Relax and have a good time,” she says, trying to be soothing, but honestly, it just makes me feel defensive.
“Blending in is safer,” I grumble.
“Blending in is boring,” Ali fires back. “And that’s the last thing you want to be called ever again. Right?”
I huff, but nod. “Right.” But it’s not really that easy. A lifetime of never wanting to cause trouble or draw attention to myself isn’t so simple to move on from. Still, I’ll let her win this time.
“You’re going to look hot as hell. Maverick King will be tripping over his own feet.”
“I don’t want him tripping, I just want him not laughing,” I mumble half to myself as I pull on the darn shorts.
“No one is going to laugh.” Ali’s hands land on my shoulders, and I look into her eyes. Obviously, the anxiety I’m feeling is clear on my face because she pulls me in for a long hug. “You’re beautiful, smart, kind, and all-around amazing. Is it crazy to pretend to date Maverick freaking King? Yeah, maybe. But think of what a cool story you’ll always have.”
“NDA, remember?”
Ali just snorts. “Okay, fine, so when we’re eighty and in our rocking chairs on the porch of an old folks’ home, we can let everyone think we’ve lost our marbles when we talk about those few weeks you had the hottest guy in baseball on your arm.”
We both dissolve into giggles. “Fine, let’s get this over with.” I quickly finish dressing and go to braid my hair, but Ali’s already shaking her head.
“Leave it down. Trust me.”
