Linebacker's Second Chance (Bad Boy Ballers) by Imani King

he can do this one thing.  
    And I can clear my mind enough to tell him what’s what.
    “Macklin Pride is getting a fiancée. The Mack Pride brand—well, it’s getting an upgrade. You’re getting a classy, well-bred, intelligent, educated football wife.” I smile at him like I’ve smiled at so many men I’ve worked with. Trust me. I’ve got this.
    “A wife? Are you fucking kidding me?” Mack looks at me like I’ve started launching rotten tomatoes at his face. “I’m not—that’s not what I do. I mean it was—and I was serious when I—God, woman, you can’t do this—”
    My cheeks grow hot, and there’s a clenching feeling inside my chest. I push aside the welling tide of emotion, trying not to read the looks crossing over Mack’s face. Yes, that was us, once. But I’m here for a job, and the situation in front of us is demanding this type of solution. I’ve done it a dozen times before. I take a deep breath and shrug to signal my nonchalance. “Macklin, there are all sorts of contracts, non-disclosure agreements, interviews, and processes in place to make sure we’ve got the right girl for your image. I’ve already talked to a few of them and we’ve already got a frontrunner. Now, none of this means you have to be with her for the rest of your life—”
    “That’s what marriage is, Renata.” He looks at me pointedly. “That’s the biggest contract of all.” He looks like he wants to say more, but he doesn’t continue.  
    Wingate looks between both of us and speaks to ease the tension. “You don’t have to marry her. Just be engaged for a good while. Make it through the season, become indispensable again. And for God’s sake, stop throwing those parties.”  
    “That’s right,” I continue. My body is tense, penned up, roiling with guilt and a lingering sadness I didn’t quite expect. I’ve never had this feeling with a client, not when I’m arranging a perfectly routine, normal celebrity relationship for him. But something about this feels different. Mack seems like he’s just being an ass, but maybe he truly doesn’t want to do this. “We won’t make you do it. But we know that this job means a lot to you. Maybe more than anything else.” I don’t mean that last part as a dig at him, but he looks at me like he might be taking it that way.  
    Mack cracks his knuckles and leans his head into his hands. It’s hard not to notice how sexy he is, how time has changed and altered him—and it’s all been in a good way. He looks just like himself, but more distinguished now. He looks up at me, his eyes distant, feelings hidden. “I do want to keep my job. Renata, tell me. You really do think I’m not going to be able to make it through the season without doing something like this?”  
    “I think exactly that,” I say softly. “I’ve done my research, talked to other players, talked to the owner, talked to your coach. I don’t think you’ll make it through the season without a major shift in your identity. And this is the start of all that. We’ve got other ideas too, but this is the event that will take attention away from your… indiscretions. And I’m betting it’ll keep you employed. Especially if you go for our first choice.”  
    “And who’s that?”  
    “Kinley Edwards.”
    “The country star?” Mack looks between us, confused.  
    “She knows the owner of the team,” Wingate says. “And she just loves the team. Huge football fan. It’s a perfect match.” Wingate leans in toward his cousin. “And you know you need the paychecks to keep coming, man. This house, your brother’s farm. You need to keep on. We both do.”  
    Mack’s face goes dark. “Fine,” he says. “I’ll do it.”

CHAPTER NINE

    “I won’t go out there, Wingate.” He watches me pace back and forth like I always do. I try to stop myself, and my fists automatically clench up. I know there’s already a patched-over hole in the wall, and I’d rather not deal with