Blindsided (Fake Boyfriend #4)(56)

I’ve never seen Miller move faster. Well, since his injury anyway.





*



“There. Done,” Miller pants. “Sex. Now.”

He’s on his back on the mats in the gym after a set of hand weights, and he can barely lift his arm to try to swat at my ass.

I laugh. “You sure you could handle it right now? You’re moving like a rookie with a hangover.”

“Nope. Can’t move. You’re gonna have to ride me right here.”

I think he’s joking, but I can’t be sure. “In the very public gym? Are you stroking out on me?”

He reaches for me, but I hesitate. I really want to climb on top of him, but even though no one’s come through the gym doors since we came down here two hours ago, we can’t risk it.

Those guys from the other day recognized us, and if they were to walk in again …

“Help me up, jackass,” Miller says.

“Oh. Sorry. I thought …” I shake my head. “Never mind.”

Miller raises a brow at me. “I’m not actually that dumb as to want to hook up in public.”

“Sorry. I know. I just—”

“You freaked out for a second. It’s okay. You have to be careful all the time, no matter what, but I’m not used to it yet, and I didn’t think. I was just goofing off.”

“It sucks even goofing off has lines drawn now.” My immediate thought at Miller’s joke was to freak out about being caught. It more than sucks. “You getting up?”

Miller doesn’t move. “Can’t. I live here now.”

I try not to let my concern show. Toward the end of the session, Miller finally perked up and became the annoyingly focused guy I’m used to him being in a weight room. But getting there … it’s like he’s not one hundred percent committed. He’s lagging and slow, and I understand he’s had months off, so his body’s weak, but I can’t help thinking if his mind is holding him back, not his body.

“We should go do something fun tonight,” I say.

Miller finally climbs to his feet. “I thought the plan I had was fun.” He winces. “But I’m gonna need the use of my arms for that, and I think they’re dead.”

“Maybe we could go hang out with Jackson and Noah?”

“I’ll message their friend Maddox too. He’s cool. He’s kinda the one who gave me the courage to FaceTime you that first time.”

“Ooh, so he’s awesome then? That’s risky, putting us both in the one room. The world might implode with that much awesome in the same place.”

“Mmhmm.” Miller grabs his towel and chugs some water and then heads for the door.

I still love the way he ignores my bullshit.





*



Going out turns out to be a good idea. Miller’s blah mood vanishes as soon as we enter the bar where we’re meeting Jackson and his friends. His mood lifts even further when I put a light beer in front of him.

“Really, bailiff? I get an actual beer?”

“Have at it.” I worked out today that I’m going about his training all wrong, so I’m going to try a new tactic. Positive reinforcement.

The tough act would’ve worked with old Miller, but his injury has shifted something in his head. He needs to get excited and retrain his brain to give him the right mentality toward his reconditioning.

We learn about sports psychology through team trainers and our coaches, and while I think some of it is hokey, like visualizing a win, I totally see the correlation between being in the right mindset and succeeding. I need to get him back on track.

Seeing as I know Jackson and Noah and know of Damon King from articles and his baseball days, when they enter, I can only figure the shorter blond guy is Maddox.

He’s good-looking, so that counts for something.

Guess I’m noticing the attractiveness of other guys now. Interesting ...

Maddox makes his way over to me, and I see it in his eyes immediately—it’s the look. I’ve been getting it since my college days.

“Football fan?” I ask.

He doesn’t reply.

Miller nudges him. “Hey, you didn’t get all gushy when you met me.”

“You’re not Marcus Talon.”

“Ouch,” Miller says. “You’re no longer my favorite friend of Jackson’s.”

Maddox continues to stare at me, but he still hasn’t said hi.

Damon’s arm goes around his boyfriend’s shoulders. “Ignore this one. He’s a weirdo.”

Maddox snaps out of whatever fanboy trance he was in and turns to him. “A weirdo you’re in love with, so what does that say about you?”

“That I’m not only crazy about you—I’m just plain crazy.”

Maddox leans into Damon. “Marcus Talon needs a wingman tonight, so I’m gonna go flirt with some girls.”

“Uh, I need what now?” I ask. I have to force myself not to turn my head toward Miller.

They ignore me.

Damon kisses Maddox’s cheek. “Flirt with girls all you want, babe. You know they can’t give you what I can.”

“It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make for Marcus Talon.”