A week and a half later, I snuck Clay into my office, peeking down the hall to make sure no players or staff saw us. Not that it would matter — I could easily play it off as media prep — but something about the real reason we were alone together convinced me I wouldn’t be able to sell the lie.

I clicked the door closed as softly as I could once he was inside, turning toward him with a relieved exhale that no one saw.

“Why are you acting like we’re about to hijack a bank?”

“Honestly? That sounds less scary than why we’re actually here,” I admitted.

Clay smirked, folding his arms over his massive chest as he took a step toward me. He was still in his practice jersey and padded pants, both of which were stained and damp and clinging to him. The closer he got, the more I smelled him — and I wished I was disgusted by the mix of sweat and dirt and grass and something like teakwood, but the cocktail was like his own brand of pheromones, and I had to actively work to keep my eyes trained on his cocky face instead of trailing the length of all his glorious muscles.

“It’s just a little kiss practice.”

“Do you hear how ridiculous that sounds?”

He chuckled. “We haven’t had time to talk much since we made the deal. I think it makes sense to go through the plan.”

I swallowed. “Right. Which is… what again?”

“We’ll make our big reveal on Chart Day. We’ll start by walking into the stadium holding hands before practice, get the rumor mill going. The team will be buzzing with high energy since everyone finds out who makes the team and at what rank.”

“And then, in the cafeteria after practice, we… make a scene.”

He nodded. “We make a scene.”

“Because I run over to you and… kiss you.”

Clay’s smirk was incorrigible, and I swatted his arm.

“I’m so glad this amuses you,” I said with a glare.

“I just find humor in how you can barely say the word kiss.”

I cracked my neck, holding my shoulders back and refusing to admit to him that I’d only had a couple of kisses in my life — none of which rocked my world — and that this entire thing made me want to crawl into a hole and hide.

I could do that. It was an option. I could call this whole thing off right now and save myself the embarrassment.

But something strange happened after I left Clay that night at the coffee shop.

I realized something I hated to admit.

I wanted this.

It was outrageous, and would likely fail, but even the possibility of it working in a way that got Shawn to not only notice me, but take an interest in me?

It was too intoxicating of a fantasy to pass up.