The Player You Need, page 1
THE PLAYER YOU NEED
A BEST FRIEND’S BROTHER SHORT STORY
VERONICA EDEN
THE PLAYER YOU NEED
Copyright © 2022 Veronica Eden
All rights reserved.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, businesses, companies, organizations, locales, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, is unintentional and co-incidental. The author does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
CONTENTS
1. Simone
2. Jackson
3. Simone
4. Simone
5. Jackson
6. Simone
7. Jackson
8. Simone
Need more swoon-worthy South Bay players?
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1. Tatum
2. Cooper
3. Tatum
4. Cooper
5. Tatum
6. Cooper
About the Author
Also By Veronica Eden
ONE
SIMONE
Screwed. No, this is worse than that. I’m beyond screwed at this point. Damn you, past Simone! Why would you do me so dirty like this?
The text from my bride-to-be cousin taunts me. Sighing, I peek at my phone to read it again because somewhere along the line in my nineteen years on this earth I picked up a taste for masochism.
Felicia: Hey boo, you put down TBD for your plus one. Wedding weekend festivities kick off in two weeks and I really need to know so I can finalize the place cards. Let me know if your man is in!
It’s been three days and if I don’t respond soon, she’s going to come for my ass for leaving her on read.
Shit. Double shit. Why am I like this?
I never should’ve told her I was waiting to see if my boyfriend could make it. Desperate times and all that. The idea seemed genius to claim I had a boyfriend I met this year at college when I had plenty of time to find a date. I didn’t want to risk a repeat of the Great Blind Date Setup of Senior Year when I dared my sister and cousins last Christmas in the middle of my final year in high school that they couldn’t find me a date before prom. They’re always trying to hook me up with someone when I’m enjoying single life just fine
Guilt for causing Felicia extra stress weighs me down. World’s crappiest bridesmaid, right here.
If only Tatum didn’t have plans with Cooper. She’s been to plenty of family occasions as my party buddy since we were kids. My family wouldn’t blink if I brought her to cover for the fact that my “boyfriend” couldn’t make it. But damn it all, her real boyfriend surprised her with tickets to a music festival up in L.A. the same weekend as the wedding.
This calls for reinforcements. I text my best friend.
Simone: SOS. I need you. [GIF of a cat crying]
Tatum: !!! Come over, I’m home.
Thank god. I let her know I’m on my way, grabbing my wristlet and keys. On the way out, I shout, “Going to Tatum’s!”
“Okay, baby,” Mom calls. “Dad’s golfing. Dinner is at four. Your aunties are coming over, so be back to help Marley and me before then.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
That gives me a few hours to work this situation out with my most trusted confidant. On my way, I make a pit stop for our favorite problem-solving snack.
I arrive at Tatum’s place in record time, armed with milkshakes. My tires screech when I park on the street.
Grabbing the shakes, I stride up the driveway, avoiding the four shirtless guys playing basketball. Ty and Harris are playing against Jackson and Cooper as usual.
Cooper Vale, the Danvers’ neighbor and best friend-slash-boyfriend—depending on which Danvers sibling you talk to—dribbles the ball while nodding to me. “‘Sup, Simone? T’s inside.”
“Thanks.” I smirk. “You guys winning?”
He grins when their two friends groan. “You know it.”
I hold out as long as I can, but everyone has their weaknesses. Jackson Danvers is mine. He’s a year older than Tatum and me, same as Cooper. The stupid crush I formed on him before he was fifteen and my sister’s first boyfriend has only grown over the years. Now that we’re all in college, it’s an unruly weed that refuses to die, no matter how much I drown it out.
My gaze slides to him, sneaking a peek like I’m committing a crime. Honestly? His washboard abs on display should be considered illegal. He catches the pass from Cooper and shows off, dribbling the ball between his legs as he cuts up their makeshift court. He’s tall with an athletic build, his light brown hair long on the top and cropped at the sides. When he slam dunks the ball, his dark blue eyes gleam with triumph.
Basically, he’s my sexy kryptonite. One I don’t have time for. I have problems to smash.
He turns that knee-weakening smug grin on me. “I know I’m so irresistible you can’t stay away for long. Did you miss me and decided to drive over to cheer from the sidelines?“
Ignoring him when he gets like this is the best course of action. He only tosses out those flirty remarks when he really wants to get a rise out of me. I give him no reaction and stride past, heading inside.
Danvers 0, Brady 1.
Once I’m in Tatum’s room, I kick the door closed and lean against it, shutting my eyes.
“Whoa, milkshakes?” Her tone is grave. She shuts the colorful notebook she was writing in and sticks it in a basket on her desk with the rest of her crazy notebook collection. “What kind of crisis are we crushing today that calls for milkshakes?”
“A big one.”
“The summer camp gig is still a go, right?”
“Yeah. It’s not that. I start their camp counselor training program in a couple of weeks right before the kids arrive for the season.”
My excitement for scoring a great summer job in Ojai that pairs well as hands-on experience with my education degree is the other reason I forgot about the boyfriend search before the wedding.
I sigh, crossing the room to flop on her bed. She joins me, laying beside me propped against the headboard.
My gaze locks on the photo collage on the wall we’ve made over the years. It has photos of me, her, Cooper, and Jackson when we were kids growing up together. My sister, Marley, is in some of them from when her brother dated her in high school.
“You know how my cousin Felicia’s wedding is coming up?” I use the straw to play with my drink. She hums, taking a drink of her milkshake. “And how I’m the only single bridesmaid? Two of my cousins, plus Felicia’s college friends, are already married, Marley’s engaged, and then there’s me.”
“Singlehood isn’t a death sentence. It says nothing about your status in the social hierarchy or alter anyone’s perception of you.”
“Please don’t psych major me right now.” Tatum holds up a hand in apology. I rub the space between my brows. “I…told my cousin I had a boyfriend, but when we did RSVPs, I put TBD.”
After a beat, she gives me a sidelong glance. “Dude.”
“I know.”
“Dude!”
“You don’t have to keep saying it, I’m well aware. I don’t know, I panicked! When she asked, I just blurted it. If I didn’t have my own date, they all would’ve conspired to make sure I was paired up.”
“And then you forgot your genius workaround until now? Your lack of planning pains me sometimes.”
“Okay, we can’t all be super planners like you. And it’s not like you do that with every little thing anymore,” I point out.
“Yeah, fair. So what do you want to do?”
I wince. “Tinder match with a potential fake date? It’s a win-win—weekend away, open bar. Who doesn’t like free wedding cake? Swipe with me so we can find a winner.”
“I don’t think Tinder is a good idea, babe. I vetoed it when I had my own problem last summer.”
“No, Cooper vetoed it as soon as he found out you were going to lose it to some rando as your backup plan if he wasn’t down to help you with your first time.”
Tatum grins. “It all worked out.”
I offer my bestie a lopsided smile. She convinced her brother’s best friend to be her spicy tutor in the bedroom, but they were always meant to be. Their unorthodox friends with benefits arrangement helped nudge them to see it. They’ve been together for almost a year and I hate them a little for how happy they are. Okay, not really. I’m glad two of my favorite people found their soulmate in each other.
“What you need is someone you know,” she says. “It’ll make it easier to fake if they already know stuff like your hatred of ketchup because you’ll already have a connection that makes it seem natural. It’s how Coop and I managed to fool you all for so long before we worked our shit out.”
“But the only people who know me that well are you, Coop, Jenny, Ty, and—”
I stop myself before I say Jackson’s name. My stomach dips and my breath catches just thinking about him. Nope. No way
Tatum purses her lips in thought. “What about that guy from your bio lab last year?”
“Him?” I shake my head. “Girl, no. I could barely stand being his partner for the semester. Faking a relationship would be terrible. Ugh, this is a disaster. I should’ve told my cousin I was riding solo.”
“And endured the surprise friend of a friend they lined up just in case?”
“Point,” I respond dejectedly.
My thoughts drift back to the exact person they shouldn’t—Jackson. I hate how perfectly he fits the bill to solve the ordeal I’ve landed myself in.
He’s always been off-limits. Every girl dreams of dating her bestie’s brother when they’re younger so they can become real sisters with their friend. So what if that little crush never went away, even when he ended up briefly dating my older sister? We’ve grown up trading barbs and riling each other up. He would just see this as another opportunity to get under my skin. Plus, he’d hold it over my head forever.
Who knows what sort of horrible favor he’d ask me for in exchange for one weekend posing as my boyfriend to fool my family?
If I convinced Jackson… I shake my head, holding the top of my hair down. There’s no way. He wouldn’t go for it.
“What about Jackson?” she suggests.
My eyes bulge. “What?”
She shoots me a sly smile. “Come on. You two hang out. He knows you as well as I do. And your family. It’ll be like taking me.”
Damn her uncanny ability to know what’s on my mind and throw logic at me. “Wouldn’t it be weird? He dated Marley. And he’s your brother.”
Tatum studies me. “I don’t think it would be weird. Go for it.”
Biting my lip, I move to Tatum’s window, peeking outside at the guys below casually playing basketball. Jackson immediately draws my attention and a flutter moves through my stomach.
His arms flex as he lines up a shot, handsome features set in concentration. His gym shorts ride low, showing off his tan line from how often he hits the beach to surf with Cooper and the guys. Heat pools low in my stomach as my gaze traces the peek of his v-muscles.
“No,” I drag out in a faint groan to myself. “Bad idea. So bad.”
But there’s no denying it. I know who I have to convince to take on the role of fake boyfriend for my wedding date.
Jackson Danvers is my only choice. The perfect choice, because my best friend’s brother is the one person I can’t have.
TWO
JACKSON
“Coop, here!” I hold open my hands for the pass while my friends square off, Ty blocking Cooper’s shot.
“Damn it, Ty, you cockblocking dick.” Laughing, Cooper passes the basketball to me.
There’s nothing I love more than the smack of the basketball hitting my palms. The only sound better is the satisfying swish of the net when I sink my stellar shot.
“Oh yeah.” I raise my hands overhead, taking a victory lap around our makeshift court in the driveway between Cooper’s house and mine.
Harris groans. “I need to learn not to accept when you or Coop throw down a challenge.”
“No one likes a sore loser, man.” Cooper slings an arm over Harris’ shoulder and jabs him in the side mockingly.
It’s good to be home from South Bay College for the summer. The spring semester ended a week ago and me, my sister, and her permanent attachment at the hip, Simone Brady, packed ourselves into Cooper’s Jeep to return to our homes in South Bay. The tourist season is about to start, so we need to get in as much chill time as we can.
With our second year of college over, things are going to shift once this summer ends. Ty is doing a semester abroad in the fall. Cooper has been working hard to put together a summer program to start teaching surfing next year, planning to get his business off the ground before we graduate with my sister’s help. I was against them together at first, but they really are good for each other. Even Simone has a new job for the summer, from what I’ve heard.
Everyone is growing up, getting their lives going. It’s a glaring reminder that I can’t coast forever. At some point, this all ends—this time with my friends, our days spent on the beach and our nights at Mariner’s Cove around a bonfire.
But not yet. I can enjoy myself for the summer.
Tatum and Simone come outside. It’s forty minutes after Simone’s car skidded to a halt in front of the house and she walked her cute little ass inside like a woman on a mission. My eyes may have strayed. I’ve never been able to resist her long legs when they’re in my line of sight.
The lazy second game we’re playing slows to a stop once Cooper passes the ball to Harris with a lovesick look on his face. He’s got eyes only for my sister as he saunters to her and wraps her in his arms.
“Oh hi,” Tatum says fondly.
“Did you get your bullet journal spreads done?”
“I did.”
He hums. “Good. Now you can come out to play.”
She giggles when he dips his head to kiss her. He hugs her tight, completely consumed by their kiss.
I roll my eyes, not down to watch my best friend and my sister make out. I’m happy that they make each other happy, but I don’t need to know the details when I’ve had a front row seat to all of Cooper’s conquests as his wingman. Almost a year later, and it’s still weird as shit to think of him dating her.
“We’re gonna head down to the beach.” Cooper’s arm drapes around Tatum. “Catch you guys later.”
“See ya, bro.” Harris checks his phone. “Crap, I’ve got work.”
“I should head out, too,” Ty says.
“Aight. Later.” I dribble the ball, taking one more shot before I set it on the weighted base.
Simone lingers after the others leave. It’s not like her. Every now and then I’ve spotted her a ride, but the two of us rarely hang by ourselves without Tate and Cooper around.
I smirk and rub my sweaty bare abs. “Sticking around for the view?”
She scoffs, but doesn’t leave. I quirk a brow.
“For real. What’s up?”
She twists the hem of her teal tank top, stalling her answer. I like her in that color. It makes her gorgeous natural dark tan even more tempting when she wears the bold, bright colors she favors. It’s rare to see her exude anything but the confident and sassy attitude that gets my dick hard. This ought to be good.
“Is it a secret? You can tell me.” I mime locking my lips, my smirk stretching. “Promise not to tell a soul.”
“Damn it, Jackson,” she mumbles. “This is such a bad idea.”
It seems more like she’s talking to herself. I walk over to lean against the side of my house next to her, shaded from the bright California sun. She taps her fingers against her lips, peering at me from the corner of her eye.
“We can stand here all afternoon…” I shift to brace a forearm against the wall over her head. I’ve got five inches on her and enjoy using them to my advantage. “Or I can make you tell me, Brady. What’s it gonna be?”
Her breath hitches. “Fine. I have a favor to ask.”
“Okay, shoot.”
Simone meets my eye, her pretty brown gaze sparking with some of her usual fire. “I need a stand-in date for my cousin’s wedding. Tatum suggested someone I know, and I’d rather stick a fork in my eye than take any of the other available idiots we hang with. You’re my best bet. Do you accept this mission?”
Stunned silence hangs between us for a moment as I process her proposal. Pretend to be Simone’s boyfriend?
Shit.
Simone is off-limits as my sister’s best friend—even though Tatum broke our mutual agreement and plowed right over the no friends rule with Cooper last year. The world didn’t implode.
