Keeper (Alpha Athletes 2)

I heard the steady beat of his heart. His chest was warm and broad. I felt him slip from between my legs.

“Is that bloody hell good or bad?” I asked. I didn’t get all the weird British slang he used.

“Good.” He exhaled. “Very good.”

I closed my eyes. Good. I’d screwed up everything since I’d been here, but at least I hadn’t screwed up sleeping with Lachlan.

His fingers dug into the small of my back. I didn’t expect to feel safe and protected in his arms. I thought it would feel like a stranger’s arms were holding me, but we had crossed planes. What Lachlan and I experienced together wasn’t stranger sex. It was epic. Historic. Cosmic.

And for the next three weeks, it was mine.

Chapter Thirteen

Lachlan

A few hours later we stood outside the stadium.

“Okay, so you know what you have to do?” Aspen asked.

I scowled. “Play nice is what you call it?”

“Yes. Play nice with everyone. The press. Your teammates. The water boy. It doesn’t matter. From here on out, we are completely changing your optics.”

I couldn’t believe I had come up with this scheme. This morning was worth it. She was fucking incredible. But I didn’t want to suck up to the assholes inside the dressing room. I also couldn’t believe I was letting her call the shots.

She had clamped on to the idea like an eagle with its talons and started running with it. I was impressed. And scared like hell.

“It’s not me. They’ll see through it,” I argued. “I’ve never been a nice bloke.”

“It’s going to be the new you. By the time you leave Rio you’ll have an entirely new image. They’ll love you. You’ll have so many endorsement offers you won’t be able to keep them off of you.” She flattened the front of my dress shirt. I had balked when she demanded I dress up for my arrival at practice.

“And if I don’t want that?” I asked.

She pinched her brows together. “Do you want my help or not?”

I groaned. “I fucking need it. Okay?”

She crossed her arms. “Then remember out here, I’m in charge. We both have a stake in this relationship.”

I wrapped an arm around her waist and grabbed her ass. “And in bed, I’m charge of this.”

I eyed her, knowing that under this skirt was the cutest arse I’d ever seen.

“This isn’t part of the image.” She swatted at me. “You can’t grope me in front of everyone. Proper boyfriends don’t do that.”

“I never said I’d be a proper boyfriend.” I winked.

I released her, but felt I had shifted the power back in my direction. I grinned. Maybe it would work after all. As far as fake girlfriends went—I had scored epically. She was smart, sassy, and sexy as fuck.

“Go. You don’t want to be late. That’s the first thing that has to change. No more tardiness.” She wagged a finger in my direction. “You are here for your country. It shows respect to be on time.”

I was tempted to grab her again, but I knew I was already testing my limits with her.

I looked up at the stadium. Today felt different. It helped I didn’t have a raging hangover. And

I had this overwhelming sense that I had someone in my corner for the first time in a long time.

Aspen had her own motives. I wasn’t a prat about it, but there was sincerity under her skin I detected beneath the designer suits and the business talk. She was a bright woman and she didn’t bullshit me like everyone else.