Page 61 of Faking the Shot
“So about this house,” he prompted her.
That’s right. Her house! “So it’s still going through, and we’re hoping it will get settled by Christmas, but it’s a passion project I’ve had for a while.”
“A passion project about…?” He smiled. “You can’t keep dropping all these snippets and not expect me to want to know more.”
“Did you say snippets?”
“I said snippets. Why? Are you anti-snippet?”
“No.” She laughed. “I’m just not used to guys using words like that.”
“Clearly you’ve been hanging out with the wrong kind of guys.”
“Clearly.”
“So this passion project…?”
She exhaled. “I don’t know why when I talk to you, I always go off on all these tangents.”
“I must bring it out of you.”
“Apparently. So this passion project,” she rushed to say, before he had to remind her again, “is related to the White Night cause, and I’m excited to think it will finally get underway.”
“That’s not really giving me a lot of information, Ainsley.”
“I know. But until it’s actually one hundred percent sorted, I don’t want to go spilling too many beans.”
“Fair enough. I can understand.”
She sensed that about him. About lots of things. He understood the price of fame. He understood the challenges of contracts and media and causes and endorsements. He understood her life because his was not dissimilar.
“I think it’s awesome what you’re hoping to do.”
“You don’t even really know what it is I want to do.”
“It’s something good that will benefit people, though, isn’t it?”
She nodded.
“Then that’s awesome,” he said gently. “I respect you.”
Her eyes filled, and she had to call on all her years of training to pull back her tears. How long since she’d had a guy tell her he respected her? That he understood her? This man was too much. She hoped he meant it, that these weren’t some smooth lines he pulled out to woo a girl. Although why he’d be wooing when they were already in a relationship—as fake as it was—didn’t make sense to her.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded. “I should probably go.”
“Before you do, I think it would really help our cause if you came to a game one day soon.”
“I will. As soon as I can.” Her smile twisted. “Which might be mid-December when I’m finally free.”
“That long away?”
“It’s my work. I’m so busy that it’s why I don’t do real relationships. There’s never time to relate.”
He nodded. “I get it. I’ve been accused of not having time too. So, anyway, speaking of mid-December, if you’re free on that second Friday in December, we’re having a team Christmas event that would be good for you to attend.”
“What date?”