8. Colton

Colton’s chest had been aching ever since he’d left Lucia at her house the night before. Something about the way she’d looked at him on her porch had made his whole body react, his heartbeat increasing. It pissed him off.

They still hadn’t talked about that night on the third floor, though he supposed there wasn’t anything to say. He really needed to keep his head in the game and stop focusing on Lucia’s every little movement. How had he gone from convinced she was the enemy to being stupidly attracted to her in the course of a couple of weeks?

He thought a little bickering might do him good, a comment about her messy office already on his tongue; until he caught sight of her through the slightly open door. She was devastating.

Her face was puffy and red, tears streaming down her cheeks no matter how much she patted them away with tissues. When her eyes flicked to him, she swiveled her chair around so he couldn’t see her.

What’d happened? She’d seemed fine when he’d dropped her off the night before. Had he said something? No, he found it hard to believe he was the cause of this. She was much too strong to care about any of his useless jabs.

She must’ve still been upset about her breakup with Clark, then. He supposed that sealed it for him that she’d been honest the entire time. He could finally admit to himself that, in all likelihood, she was probably not a spy for Max Clark. Just a heartbroken ex-fiancée.

He knew he should leave and give her the privacy she obviously wanted, but his feet started moving toward her before he could even think. He kneeled before her, pushing away the urge to reach for her face.

“What’s wrong?”

The words came out gruffer than he’d intended, and she flinched. Fuck it.

He reached out, lifting her chin so he could meet her eyes. “What’s wrong, Lucia?”

She opened her phone and handed it to him, closing her eyes as if scared of his reaction. He looked at the screen, noting the somewhat grainy photo. He pinched the screen, seeing the headline at the same time he recognized the people in the picture.

It was him and Lucia gazing into each other’s eyes. Taken in front of her house the night before.

“Fuck.”

She shook, sobbing quietly as he read the headline. The words “Sports Analyst Makes Quarterback-Hopping an Olympic Sport: Vipers QB ex-fiancée shares a moment with Sabers star” glared up at him.

Whoever wrote that was a piece of shit. And to make matters worse, a moment later, a text message from Max fucking Clark came in as a banner at the top of her screen.

“You’re pathetic,” it read. He clenched her phone so tightly that the power-off screen greeted him after a few seconds.

How dare Clark talk to her like that. As if he hadn’t done enough. Had he been sending her messages like this the entire time, or was this a new development because of the news?

He didn’t have time to think through it all, placing the phone onto her desk and taking both of her hands in one of his. He placed his other hand on her cheek, wiping away the moisture that rested there.

“Shh, I know. I know. I’m so sorry, Lucia. This is all wrong.” He glided his thumb over her soft cheek again. “They’re assholes, all of them.” He held her like that for a minute, tentatively brushing away new tears that sprung up.

When she’d calmed down a bit, he squeezed her hands softly. “They’ll say anything to sell whatever they can. Believe me. They’ve dragged me through so many variations of ‘Shouldn’t he be a doctor or engineer?’ and ‘Does this look like a Colton Beaumont to you?’ that I’ve lost count.”

He still remembered the first time he’d seen a news site talk about his race, as if being half-Indian made him so different from the rest of the NFL that it warranted putting him in the headlines. As if the color of his skin changed his abilities on the field. Big deal. Most people didn’t think twice about his race, but leave it to the media to sensationalize something that had no bearing on the sport.

This information seemed to stun her. She blinked at him slowly, then sniffled. “They said that about you?”

He nodded once, not wanting to dwell on it. “I’m telling you, the press will say anything. I’m sorry you got sucked into it because of me.”

She scoffed, “It’s not exactly the first time this has happened to me. Not even this season.”

“No, they haven’t been too nice to you, have they?”

She sniffled, shaking her head.

He realized how close they were, how both his hands were on her. She seemed to come to the same realization because she released his hand. He removed his other hand from her cheek and moved a few feet away.

“What do I even do? This is going to affect my job again, I can just see it.” Another sniffle and then a groan as she planted her face in her hands. “I’m so screwed.”

He didn’t know what possessed him to say what he did next, but he knew he would regret it. Dearly. “What if we went along with it?”

Her eyes were as wide as saucers when she looked back up at him. “What?”

He thought about trying to find a way out of it but remembered Cooper’s words. She was alone in a new place. She had nobody she could rely on in Charleston, and this was the last thing she should be dealing with on her own. Plus, it was nice knowing it would get under Clark’s skin.

So, he shrugged nonchalantly. “We could pretend. You know, until everything blows over. Everyone will already think something’s going on either way. This way, you can take control of the narrative. Plus, it’ll get that fucking dick off your back.” He had to rein in the anger that threatened to take hold when he thought about that message.

She waved her hand between the two of them. “Aren’t you forgetting the part where we can’t stand to be in the same room as each other? Or the part where we’ve hated each other since college?” She smoothed her skirt. “This conversation notwithstanding, because I’m vulnerable, and you’re going to pretend you never saw any of this later.” She looked at him pointedly and he nodded.

“We’ve been doing a fine job of it for a month. And I think we can put our college rivalry behind us.”

She gave him an incredulous look, wiping at her face. At the very least, this conversation had taken her mind off of the news for long enough that she’d stopped crying. Colton was thankful for that.

“What about my job? There’s no way they’d let us work together if we’re in a relationship, right?”

“I can handle Coach. Don’t worry about that.”

Her eyebrows came together as she thought.

He continued, “I’m going to go and get to pretending that this never happened—if that’s what you really want. But think it over, you don’t need to decide right now.”

Practice was hell the next day, and his teammates giving him a hard time didn’t help. Cooper eyed him suspiciously the whole three hours, but Colton had to keep his mouth closed until Lucia decided for them.

He still wasn’t positive about what had made him volunteer for a fake relationship. What had he been thinking? He hadn’t been in a relationship in years. He barely had enough time to sleep, let alone have a girlfriend. No matter how fake it might be. It had been so dumb, but the rationale he’d given her seemed to have made even her pause. As if she had truly been thinking about it. And he had to admit that controlling the narrative was likely their best option in this situation.

At the end of practice, Coach Turner asked Colton to follow him, ominous as ever. Colton was bummed to miss out on an ice bath, but obeyed, wondering what he could’ve done to get Coach so twisted up.

He realized what it was the moment he walked into the HR Coordinator’s office, a wide-eyed Lucia looking back at him. Shit. This was happening a lot faster than he had expected. He’d thought she would have had at least a couple of days to think through his offer.

Coach Turner pointed at the seat beside Lucia’s, walking around the desk so that he stood behind the coordinator whose name Colton couldn’t remember. A few steps away was a woman about his and Lucia’s age with black hair tied back in a ponytail, dressed in a black pantsuit, and glaring down at her phone. When Colton sat beside Lucia, the woman looked up, a glare still fixed on her face.

“I’m sure you’re both aware of our policy on disclosure of relationships.” The HR coordinator paused, waiting for their responses. Colton looked to Lucia, wanting to take her lead since he’d given her the reins. She refused to meet his eyes.

The man continued when neither of them spoke. “Is the headline true or not? We need to be aware if you’re together, as it will affect your working relationship going forward.”

Colton was still watching Lucia. She closed her eyes, sighed deeply, and then nodded once, resignation in her tone. “Yes, it’s true. We wanted to disclose our relationship when we realized that we wanted to be together, but the press beat us to it.”

And there was her decision. He didn’t realize his heart had been pounding until he heard it in his ears, a rush of blood at her words. Coach’s narrowed eyes never left his face, and Colton was sure he was trying to figure out whether this would be a good or bad thing for his game.

“In that case, we do have to put some protocols in place to ensure that your working relationship remains what it’s meant to be. Lucia will be given a superior. She will have to write a report after each session to make sure she’s remaining objective and that all your work together is being logged.”

He wasn’t sure if that was better or worse than he had been expecting. At least he wouldn’t have to fight for her to keep her job. He absolutely would have fought, though, just like he’d promised her. He did feel bad about the extra work she’d have to take on. He would try to be better during their sessions.

This was good. This was good for both of them. She would get Clark off her back while giving the press what they seemed to want. They would control the narrative the media was trying to spin. And he could focus on his game. His girlfriend would be the one to help him win the Super Bowl again.

The woman near Coach Turner stepped forward. “Hello, I’m Tessa. I’m a publicist for the Sabers, and I was asked to help curate media associated with this relationship. The team wasn’t prepared for a scandal of this magnitude between a player and a staff member, so we’ll have to do some damage control. I can handle most of that, but I have a few requests.”

Lucia was turning the ring around her middle finger, a semi-distressed expression on her face. Colton nodded at Tessa for the both of them.

“Great. As I said, I can handle most of the press, but I will ask that the relationship be kept above board from now on. That means you’ll need to post each other on social media, and I’ll send an email to you outlining what content is acceptable and what isn’t. You’ll also need to be seen outside of work together—whether that be eating out, at each other’s houses, or what have you. And finally, Lucia, you will need to be in the end zone with the rest of the spouses and partners during home games for the pre-game kiss. We want to make it clear to the press and the public that we are aware of this relationship, and that it has been okayed by management. The last thing we want is for it to seem like something against protocol is going on under our noses. Make sense?”

Colton’s eyebrows raised at the requests. He’d had plenty of experience with PR teams and had even asked his agent to work with the Sabertooths’ publicists to ensure those pictures didn’t go public, which had clearly been a waste, but he’d never known how controlling they could be. He didn’t have an issue with the requests, but this was certainly a lot to ask of Lucia and him, especially during the season. Though, he supposed, not to people who believed they were seriously together.

Lucia cleared her throat before answering softly, “Yes, of course. We will be sure to do all of that.”

Tessa nodded, tapping a few times on her phone as the HR coordinator slid a sheet of paper across his desk toward them. “Sign this disclosure agreement, and Tessa will be in touch if she needs you two to do anything specific. And Lucia, look out for another email regarding your new supervisor, Tim.”

Colton looked over at her, but her face was devoid of emotion as she signed the sheet in front of her. He followed suit, and then they were dismissed. They didn’t speak until they got to her office and she closed the door behind him.

“We need guidelines.” She cleared her throat, sitting in her chair and folding her hands together.

Colton was still in shock that this was really happening. “Guidelines?”

“Well, we need an end date, at the very least.”

“An end date.”

“What are you, a parrot?”

“No, I’m just—what sort of guidelines do you mean?”

“Well, when do you see this mutually beneficial agreement ending? When will it stop being mutually beneficial? We’ll both have to put effort into this outside of work hours, so it’s important that we establish that.”

She was so analytical, even when she was taken by surprise. He didn’t know how she could be so logical all the time.

Regardless, he thought through the season, and his answer to her question landed squarely in January. “Before playoffs start. We have an amicable split before playoffs and focus on winning.” He wouldn’t even ponder the possibility of them not making it to playoffs. “That makes sense, right?”

“That’s over three months.”

“Okay, I’m open to suggestions,” he drawled.

She rolled her eyes. “Fine. Before playoffs it is.”