She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I said I wasn’t sure.”

“Well, be sure. Blow off work and come.”

“I’m in charge of over thirty-five players’ mental health, I can’t blow them off.”

“Half of them have gone home, and the other half can be on call.”

“Wells.”

“Wren. Really. I need my sister through this.”

“Through what? You want this!”

“I know, but I want you there.”

“I’ll try. Let me work on some things.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re annoying. Like Mom.”

“Bet you won’t say it to her face.”

She gasped. “Never.”

“Thought so. What are you doing? Working?” he teased and she smiled. Her brother was probably the most amazing person on the planet. He was beyond funny, the realest guy ever, and captivating. She loved him so much. She always turned to him for advice, and it was killing her to lie to him, but she wouldn’t put that on him. He had enough to worry about: his wedding, being one of the only openly gay players in the league, and all the other stuff that came with that. So Wren had kept the last six months to herself—well, except for Vaughn. She told him, but it wasn’t like she’d reached out to him.

No, it was her. Alone. Doing it all, and she was fine with that. She was strong.

“Actually, I’m meeting Jensen for lunch.”

“Ooh, for what?”

“That is none of your business, my dear brother.”

“Finally gonna tell him you think he’s hot and you wouldn’t mind hitting it?”

“Shut it.”

“You two would make hot kids.”

Well, let’s hope that Bradley made them too. Fucker.

“Wells, be real.”

“Everyone knows you two dig each other.”

“No, they don’t! I don’t even know that, and you don’t—shut up,” she sputtered because, while her brother always teased her about it, she didn’t believe it. If Jensen was feeling her, why didn’t he ever try anything? She’d flirted with him relentlessly after his divorce, but he never flirted back. He’d been tight-lipped, and that had been the perfect time to have a roll in the hay for fun. He probably thought she was too fat to be a trophy wife too.

Fucking douche. God, she hated Bradley.

“Ha-ha, you know nothing, Wren Lemiere.”

“Ugh, you sound like Brie and Vaughn. Always with the Game of Thrones references.”

He chuckled. “Stop hating, and binge-watch.”

“No, I refuse.”

“You suck.”

“So do you.”

“Always,” he teased, and she snickered. “So, I’ll see you in a couple weeks.”

“Don’t get your mind set—”

“See you in a couple weeks! Toodle-oo!”

The line went dead, and she swore her eyes were going to get lost in her head. That guy was an idiot. Toodle-oo? What the hell? Laying her phone down, she reached for her water since she had dry mouth like a desert, just in time to catch a glimpse of Jensen coming through the door.

Crap, she wasn’t ready!

But it didn’t matter because when he saw her, his face lit up as he pointed to her from the hostess stand before coming toward her. God, he was majestic. So damn big, unlike the stocky thirteen-year-old she remembered. He had grown over thirteen inches his freshman year; she remembered that because her mom was worried his skin would snap, he was growing so fast. His shoulders were massive and thick through the tank he wore. She knew from seeing him at the pool that he was ripped like no other, but it was his eyes that always got her. He had the darkest set of brown eyes she had ever seen. They were like two pools of deep, dark chocolate that always seemed to be a shade darker when he looked at her. His face had hard angles, his nose was broad, and his jaw was covered with dense, coarse hair—and those lips. Thick and scrumptious.

Yeah, she had a thing for Jensen Monroe, and she was pretty sure she was in a whole lot of trouble asking for him to pose as her husband.

But she had no choice.

Reaching the table, he had a smile pulling at his lips as he leaned over and kissed her cheek. Closing her eyes, she inhaled sharply, his musky scent tantalizing her core. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he muttered as he moved back, sitting down across from her. “Good to see you.”

“You too.”

“It’s been a while. I didn’t even see you at the Assassins’ Cup party.”

“Yeah, I was busy.”

“Oh, that sucks.”

“Yeah, Elli was not happy with me, but I’ve been under the weather lately.”

His brow furrowed in concern. “You’re okay?”

He reached for his water as she nodded. “Yeah, fine. Now. Thanks.”

She giggled nervously as the waitress came up to take their drink orders. “Water is fine.”

“Me too,” he said with a grin that, of course, the waitress swooned at. Who wouldn’t? He looked like an underwear model.

And Wren didn’t miss the way the girl looked back at her, like, “Wow, you’re with him?” Some would be offended, but having grown up with three very good-looking brothers, she was used to it.

After ordering her food, Wren leaned on her elbows. “I’m starving. Sorry to make you rush.”

“No, it’s fine. I love this place, and I always get the same thing.”

“Don’t like change?”

He shrugged. “Why mess up a good thing when you got it?”

“Touché, Monroe.” He sent her a grin, and she smiled back sweetly. “So, what’s up?”

“Nothing, just Cup stuff.”

“Which is awesome.”

He smiled shyly. “It’s a lot.”

“I hear you’re all over the place.”

“I am. Lots of interviews. We went to the White House, which was cool.”

“I saw that on Facebook. So amazing.”

“Yeah, I can’t wait to take the Cup home.”

“I bet.”

He nodded before shrugging. “Other than that, I’m boring.”

“So am I. It’s okay.”

“Boring people have more fun.”