3. Riggs

THREE

RIGGS

"Oh my God, you are so funny !" Jennifer screeches, laughing entirely too hard at my bad joke. She's from Georgia, but visits on occasion to take care of her great aunt that lives in my building. We hooked up last year and the sex wasn't bad, plus she's one of the only hookups I've ever brought to my actual condo, rather than just fucking in my car or a hotel room. So when I ran into her in the elevator earlier, an idea popped into my head. I'd ask her to come up for a drink, and feel her out to see if she'd be a suitable fake girlfriend for this bullshit situation I fucked myself into.

Apparently, I forgot that she's annoying as shit.

Sorry, but she is.

Maybe it was because she was either choking or screaming the last time I saw her, which didn't leave her with a lot of time to speak, but everything out of her mouth since she walked in the door tonight has either been about herself or my job. I stopped listening when she asked if I'd get her and her friends a suite to our next game so they could see all the "baseball baddies" . Her words, not mine. Although Ace does have an ass you could bounce quarters off of. Normally, I wouldn't care. I'm used to women only wanting me because I play professional baseball, but this is a different story. I need someone who's not only completely all in on the fact that our relationship would be fake, but also someone I can trust. Clearly, Jennifer here isn't the girl for the job.

I won't lie. I'm starting to get a little nervous. I know I need to find someone to do this with me, but it seems as though my fuckboy ways are finally catching up to me. Maybe if I had put a little more energy into finding something more solid with the women I've spent my time with, I wouldn't be out here scraping the bottom of the barrel for someone to pretend to be in a relationship with me until I've shown the Fury organization that they can trust me to lead their team.

"So, you know Hawk Mason?" She asks, and I inwardly roll my eyes.

"Yep. He's my third baseman," I reply on a forced exhale. Can this girl just hurry up and tell me how hot that broody motherfucker is so I can get her out of here and go back to the drawing board?

"Is he really that hot in person?"

There it is.

"Sure is," I say, walking over and gently ushering her to the entryway. "It was honestly so nice to see you, Jennifer. I had a great time catching up, but I have a bunch of stuff to do, so we'll talk later. Send my regards to your sweet Aunt Geraldine." She looks at me confused, sputtering in an attempt to answer as I open the door and lead her into the hallway .

"But I thought we were going t?—"

She doesn't even finish the thought before I slam the door, running my hands down my face in frustration. The worst part of it all is that I can't blame anyone for this shit but myself. My big mouth has gotten me in trouble more times than I can count, but this time I've really fucked up. Where am I going to find a fake girlfriend who will not only be okay with going through with whatever this crazy-ass plan brings, but also won't want anything more from me after we're done?

What I need is someone who hates me.

Godfuckingdamnit.