Safe Bet (The Rules #4)(26)

“Same. I’m only twenty-two. My life is really just beginning.”

“So is mine.”

“Well, I guess we’re in agreement that we’re not ready to get married then.” I grin. This conversation—like our situation—is totally insane. “Did we just have our first fight, Sydney?”

“I think so. And we’ve already resolved it and everything.” She returns the smile, her gaze dropping to the menu in front of her. “Maybe it’s a good thing I’m changing up my usual type.”

“It’s always smart to stretch and expand your horizons,” I say as seriously as possible.

And maybe I’m starting to believe that too.





The candlelight from the votive on our table strikes Wade in the most perfect way possible. The flame constantly flickers, casting his face in various shadows that only highlight his features. The more I stare at him throughout our very intimate yet totally on-display dinner, the more I like what I see.

Ugh. I need some sort of warning alarm in my head to remind me what I’m doing is dangerous. Playing around like I’m in a relationship with Wade Knox is stupid. Maybe I was a fool to agree to this.

Too late to reconsider, though—I’m all in, whether I like it or not.

I’ve felt people watching us all night, and I hope they don’t recognize me. But then again, I’m supposed to want them to recognize me. The Naughty Nanny—that nickname is the freaking worst, I swear. I don’t want people to believe I’m the one who’s possibly breaking up the Callahan marriage.

Hence all this phony stuff, which feels surprisingly real right now—scary, I know. But I can’t help it. Wade is so nice, and nice to look at too. I’ve seen more than one woman stare at him as she passed by our table. I can’t blame them either. He’s so good looking. I don’t even think he knows just how attractive he is.

That makes it even worse.

“People keep looking over at us,” Wade says, his voice low as he quickly scans the room. I idly wonder if he’s a mind reader. “Think they recognize you?”

“I hope not,” I immediately say in return. “Maybe they recognize you.”

He scoffs. How he can make a scoff sound sexy, I’m not sure, but he just did. “No way. No one knows who I am, nor do they care.”

I like how he just used the word “nor”. Crap, I’m liking everything he’s doing tonight. I need that danger warning alarm sounding off, stat. “They’ll figure out who you are soon when you start playing in the regular season.”

He looks pleased by my comment, and I’m proud of the fact that I’m retaining so much of what Fable’s taught me about football over this last week. She told me she didn’t know squat about the game either when she first started dating Drew, but she wanted to know because it was such a big part of his life.

I’m only learning so I don’t sound like an idiot in case anyone asks me about my so-called boyfriend’s career, which isn’t quite the same as Fable’s intentions. But whatever. She knows a lot, she’s gone over the basics for me, so I’m fairly confident I won’t end up sounding like a complete imbecile if a reporter or whoever asks me about my “boyfriend” and what he does.

“I just want to stay on the team. That’s all.” Wade sets his fork on his now-empty plate. The man can put a lot of food away, though I guess I shouldn’t be surprised considering how large he is. “Tomorrow’s game is everything. I have to give it my best.”

Right. This game is the most important of his life. He’s reiterated that to me more than once. “We should probably leave early so you can get home and get some rest.”

“The game isn’t until tomorrow night, and besides, I won’t be able to sleep.” He smiles ruefully. “Too nervous.”

It’s ridiculous, but I find his nervousness super cute right now. “You’ll be fine. You’ve made it this far. How can it go wrong?”

“Trust me, it can go wrong. It’s pretty hard not to think my life has turned into some sort of dream. Since I was seven and in youth league football, I’ve wanted this. A chance at the NFL, a chance to play football for one of the greatest teams ever. It never seemed possible before, you know? Just one unattainable dream to add to the long list of dreams I had when I was a kid. Something I can chase after, yet never seem to catch.” He shrugs, looking embarrassed he just spilled his guts.

But I’m stuck on one minor fact. “You’ve played football since you were seven?”

“Yeah. My mom put me in peewee football so that it would give me some discipline.”

“Did it help?”

“Oh yeah. Well, it gave me an outlet for all my energy and anger too.” He takes a sip of his water. “I was kind of a pissed off kid.”

“Really? Why?” It’s nice sitting here, getting to know him. I don’t want to share too many intimate details with him about my background, but I like hearing his stories. Makes me feel closer to him.

“The thing with my dad, how he was never a part of my life. That made me angry, and there was nothing my mom could do about it, so she put me in football. In the hopes it would allow me to channel my energy in a more positive way.” He laughs. “She’d be real proud. I sound just like her right now.”