Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100523 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100523 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Why is he directing that comment at me? “Here at the club?”
“More like…around town. But only if it works out.” He gives a smile that says it—whatever it is—better work out. On that vague note, his attention lasers on a little sprite racing toward us from the ladies’ room, wearing golf pants and a polo.
“I’m ready, Daddy,” the kiddo calls out as she rushes over to him.
“Let’s do that lesson, sweetheart,” he says warmly, then wraps an arm around his daughter.
“And Grace is going to help teach me too. Along with her mom,” Wilder’s daughter says.
“You’re going to devastate me on the links soon, Mac,” he says with parental pride as he calls her by her nickname—short for Mackenzie. Then the man in charge gives us a chin nod, his gaze landing on my hand. “Rings looking good, Hendrix.”
“Thanks, sir,” I say before he leaves with his kid. When he’s out of earshot, though, I turn to Maddox, a little thrown off. “What’s that all about?”
“I presume you don’t mean his daughter’s golf lesson.”
“I do not.”
My agent nods to the driving range. “Let’s talk.”
I hate those two words. I feel like I’m in trouble, like I was nearly every day in school.
It’s not a comfortable flashback.
I only have thirty minutes to spend on the driving range. At ten-thirty, I’m due at the Renegades facility for our final red-zone game-plan practice before tomorrow’s walk-through, then Monday’s game.
“So, we’ve got an issue with Date Night,” Maddox says as we walk.
I knew this was coming, but I still dread it. “They want the videos I owe, right?”
He nods, resigned but resolute too. “They do, buddy.”
I drag a hand down my face, groaning. “Well, I’d love to, but there’s that little issue of Quinn twirling on ropes or sheets or a fucking hula hoop from the ceiling.”
My ex and I were supposed to do a bunch of videos together on great dates for Date Night, a dating app that shot up in popularity recently. The quarterback on the Hawks hooked me up with the app a couple years ago, since he knows the founder, Zena Palladium. I’d already been using the app on my own and loving it, so it was a perfect fit for me sponsorship-wise. I love dating. I love getting to know women. I love spending time with a special someone and figuring her out. Women are wonderful puzzles. Talking up Date Night was easy, since Zena wanted someone who actually went on dates via her app. I’ve been the spokesperson ever since then, and the partnership has been gold.
For my bank account.
For the team.
For me.
A few months into the deal, I met Quinn on the app, and damn, did that make Date Night look good. Like a gold mine for real romance. The pro baller and the acrobat—two athletes who discovered true love online, just like the app promises with its Find the One tagline. As part of my contract with them, Quinn and I posted pics and videos of our dates on the app, which they then used in their social media marketing.
You, too, can find the real thing on Date Night.
It went so well Zena inked a deal with Wilder, too, becoming one of the official marketing partners for the team. And when I proposed to Quinn, Zena forked over more dough. She upped my contract and basically said she’d love me forever if Quinn and I showed off some great date locations around the city for couples to enjoy.
Except, all love stories end.
Mine with Quinn, and mine with Date Night.
After Quinn and I split, I had zero interest in getting back on the app. Zena was chill at first. “Take your time. No worries. There’s no rush for you to start dating again,” she’d said over dinner with Maddox and me a year ago.
Now, I’m getting the impression time’s up. But dating again? Putting my heart on the line? That sounds worse than getting pummeled by a bloodthirsty pass rusher. “I am so not into dating again. I honestly don’t know when I will be. Can I just pay back the fee for the additional videos?” I ask Maddox. I have the money. I could bow out gracefully.
“You could,” he says tactfully. “Though Zena would rather not go there.”
Code for don’t piss off a powerful woman. But I get it. I signed a deal. She waited while I was off the market. Just because I’m not interested in dating again doesn’t mean she’s lost interest in me.
“Pretty sure Wilder would prefer to keep her happy too,” Maddox adds.
Yeah, it’s clear now why he said he wants to see me around more. Around on the app. Around the city. Around in general.
“So, to fulfill my contract, I need to find someone on the app and traipse around the city looking like a happy couple?” It just sounds painful, the idea of showing off five great dates for you and your special someone.