Page 11 of Guarding the Star

“How do you know? Have you done this before? Pretended to be some famous woman's girlfriend? Oh man, tell me, please!”

“I've done harder things.”

“You didn't answer me,” I press.

“No. I didn't,” she admits. “Communication rules,” she continues, going back to her notebook. “Never post your location in real time. Never. If you're going to post photos of us, check with me first.”

“Of the two of us together?”

Paula looks up.

“Yes, of the two of us together. Like you said, it has to look real. Outside of club facilities and stadiums, I'm your shadow. You don't go off on your own and you notify me of any changes to your schedule.”

“And if I want to hook up with someone? I mean, you know, if this drags on… a girl has needs.”

“Buy a toy,” she says, flat.

“Jesus, that is the most depressing thing anyone has ever said to me. And I had a seriously toxic ex who said some messed up stuff,” I groan, dropping back onto the mattress.

“I'm not trying to depress you. I'm trying to keep you from getting hurt.”

She says it with nothing behind it. No weight. No drama. Like telling me water is wet.

“Safe word,” she goes on. “If at any point you feel something is wrong, we need a code word. Something you wouldn't use in normal conversation. Think of one and tell me tomorrow. Iris, this works if you trust me. I'm not asking you to like the situation. Nobody likes it. Just trust me.”

“Man, this sounds almost like a marriage proposal, and we haven't even had a real first date.”

“Our first date is tomorrow,” she says, dropping her voice, and winks.

Chapter 4

Paula

Iris Vance has spent the entire day sabotaging me with the glee of a kid playing hide-and-seek.

She lies about the time of practice, her room number, the meal schedule.

“Oh, were you looking for me?” she asks when I finally track her down in the hotel restaurant.

Her teammates stare at me.

“Who's this, Vance?” one of them asks.

“A friend,” Iris says without looking up from her plate.

I raise my eyebrows and pin her with a look.

“A friend?”

“Okay, fine,” she concedes. “Listen up! I want you to meet someone. This is Paula, my girlfriend. We've been going out for a few weeks.”

The entire dining room goes quiet. Every eye on me.

“Hades let you bring her to preseason in Florida?” Jamie whistles. “Moving fast, Vance. None of us have our partners here, unless it's already pretty serious.”

“I mean, it's not like Hades let me bring my girlfriend. She showed up on her own. She saw the photos and got really pissed at me, so she hopped on a plane to chew me out. We made up and we're good now,” she explains, shrugging, though the gesture is too rehearsed to be real. “You know, those party photos. She's kind of jealous. Any more questions, or can I keep eating?”

The silence stretches a few more seconds, and nobody takes their eyes off me. Tina watches from the corner.