The Fake: A College Sports Romance (Smart Jocks #4)
Page 9
It’s nearly nine o’clock when we sit on the floor catching our breaths and giving our shaky legs a break.
“Payne.” Coach’s deep voice catches me by surprise, and my head snaps up to find him standing just inside the weight room. He’s dressed in workout clothes with his headphones in hand. Note to self, Coach comes to work out late on the weekends. “What are you doing here?”
I jump to my feet and then proceed to wobble because damn my legs hurt. He takes in me and then Chloe while I find my words. “We were just finishing up.”
Chloe moves behind me. “Sorry. You’ve got the good equipment in here.”
Coach smiles at her. “That we do.” He looks to me and that smile falls a little. He nods with his head to the door. “Get out of here before I’ve got the whole team bringing their girlfriends in here.”
We shuffle past him into the hallway, and Chloe busts up laughing. “Sorry,” she says between giggles. “I hope I didn’t get you in trouble.”
“Nah, I’m already on his shit list.”
She looks to me for an explanation, and I shake my head. “It’s a long story.”
“I’m at the gym on a Friday night… I’ve clearly got time.”
We make our way out to the parking lot and pause where our paths split and we’ll be forced to go in opposite directions.
“I did something dumb, got caught.” I shrug.
“Something dumb?”
The truth is on the tip of my tongue, but I like the way Chloe looks at me now and if she knows the truth… well, it’s a risk I’m not willing to take. Good things haven’t come my way too often lately, and I’m not ready to gamble giving her up.
“I showed up to practice pretty hungover… in fact, I might have still been drunk.”
“So that’s why you’ve stopped drinking so much?” she says as if it’s all clicked in place. “And then you met me.” She bats her eyelashes.
I nod, unable to force another lie. “And then I met you.”
Chloe
Sunday night, Nathan and I are sprawled out on the floor in the common area of my dorm, working on our communications class project. Bri is at a study group, Emily’s in her room with the door closed, and Sydney’s in our room but has the door open just enough we can hear the music she’s playing.
“A pen?” Nathan asks, his pencil tucked behind his ear. He flips through my notes, long legs propped up on the coffee table.
“Not just a pen. A retractable roller pen with extra ink cartridges. It retails for over seventy dollars.”
His eyebrows lift up toward his hairline. “A seventy-dollar pen? That’s crazy.”
“Which is the point of the project,” I remind him. “We need to figure out how to market it to our classmates. What would make you spend that much on a pen?”
“Winning the lotto.”
I tilt my head. “We have to come up with something.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m gonna have to think on it. We can pull together the current marketing details and customer profile and come back to it.”
“Yeah, alright.”
“Or we could blow this off and grab dinner at my place? Joel’s mom brought over enchiladas.”
“Joel’s mom really feeds you guys?”
“Hell yes.” He grins. “I’m not even embarrassed about it because it’s so good. So much better than that cafeteria shit.”
I stare down at my notes. He’s right, we need time to process, but I want Nathan to be here when Bri comes home. “How about we order takeout, finish up the outline, and then watch a movie or something here?”
He nods slowly. “Yeah, alright. We could do that.”
Unlike the eager guy I’ve gotten used to, he doesn’t seem very excited about my plan. And then it hits me. Of course, he doesn’t want to spend money on takeout when he can get a free meal at his place.
“My treat for…” I gesture in front of us. “Well, everything. I owe you.”
Laughing, he shakes his head. “I’m good, holding out for enchiladas. I’ve got a granola bar in my backpack if I get desperate.”
He goes back to studying my notes and I order takeout—three times as much as I would for just myself. It arrives just as we’re finishing up the outline. I grab two plates, setting one in front of him even as he says, “I’m good, seriously. I’ll eat later.”
“Have you had Lotus House?”
He shakes his head.
“Oh, my God, you have to at least try it.” I hold out my fork full of Chow Mein and one side of his mouth pulls up in an amused grin before he opens wide and leans forward.
I wait while he chews and nods his head.
“Amazing, right?”
“Really good.”
I hand him the container of food, and he takes it from me with a shy smile but then shovels in two more big bites. I wave him off when he tries to hand it back and grab for the sesame beef.
Sydney pops her head out of our room. “Did I hear something about a movie?”
“Yeah, you wanna watch something with us?”
She rushes into the room and takes a seat on the couch. “Can we watch New Girl? We just started season two.”
It stings a bit to know they have another thing together that I’ve been missing out on.
“Yeah, New Girl sounds great. I haven’t seen it. You?” I look to Nathan.
“Saw a few episodes but never from beginning to end. Sunday night used to be movie night at the house. I miss it.”
I’m having a hard time picturing him and his roommates all sitting around watching a movie together. I’ve seen their theater room, but still.
Sydney knocks on the wall behind the couch in what I can only assume is some sort of bat signal for Bri to come out because not five seconds later, she pops out. Her footsteps slow as she glances around the room. Nathan nudges my elbow with his.
“Wanna watch with us?” I ask, fully prepared for her to say no or maybe even kick me out.
“I don’t want to interrupt date night.”
“It’s fine,” I say at the same time Nathan says, “As long as you’re cool with me feeling up my girl during the show.”
My mouth falls open, and I expect Bri to scoff and go back to her room. Instead, she laughs. Like laughs laughs. I didn’t know she was capable of making the sound. She takes a seat on the couch. I give Nathan, aka Mr. Miracle Worker, a playful slap.
“I’m kidding,” he says, grabbing the remote from the TV stand. “What episode are we on? Season two, episode one?”
Sydney tucks her feet under her on the couch. “Season two, episode three. Emily is on her way.”
Our door flies open as if it were scripted. “I’m here,” Emily says, out of breath. “Season two, episode three,” she repeats. “Jess tried dating two guys at once and met the hot doctor. Except we don’t know he’s a doctor yet. Sorry, Sydney.” She collapses on the couch between Bri and Sydney.
Standing, I place an unopened carton of food on the coffee table. “General Tsao’s chicken?”
Emily dives for it. “Thanks, Chloe. Hey, Nathan.”
He waves to her, and I give Nathan an OMG, we’re hanging out and no one forced them look. He moves to my chair and pulls me onto his lap. It’s big enough that we’d just about fit side by side, but I’m more on his lap than not. I turn to face him and mouth, “Thank you.”
He responds by leaning forward and kissing me lightly on the lips.
“Mmmm, you taste spicy.”
He doesn’t pull away immediately. Our mouths linger, barely not touching, eyes locked. My heart races with the desire I see reflected back at me. I make the first move this time, hesitantly pressing our lips together. He lets out a little growl as he takes over the kiss. I part my lips just as his tongue sweeps in.
A pillow hits the side of my face.
“That’s enough, you two,” Sydney says.
Nathan chuckles and pulls away, but he keeps an arm around me, one hand on my thigh the entire show. A detail that no
one else in the room can see, but I like it anyway. And that’s not good.
I can’t fall for my fake boyfriend. What if in a week or two, it blows up and we can’t stand to be around one another? All of this will have been for nothing. I close my eyes and try to ignore the tingles and desire I feel being this close to him.
“Is there a weird song that turns you on that really shouldn’t?” I ask as we’re cleaning up.
He takes the empty Chinese containers from the coffee table. “You mean like Nick and the ‘Humpty Dance?’”
I nod.
He thinks for a minute and then shakes his head. “I can’t think of one. Why?”
“Just curious.” I bite down on my lip.
“Uh-uh. You have one, don’t you? What is it?”
I bite my lip and his face lights up. “Oh, this is fun. Let me guess. ‘Genie in a Bottle?’”
I shake my head no.
“‘The Pony?’”
I scrunch up my face. “Seriously? Ginuwine should turn everyone on.”
He tosses the trash and then crosses his arms in front of him, studying me carefully.
“‘Ice Ice Baby,’” I admit quietly and watch his face transform into a huge smile. “Don’t laugh. It’s my jam.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He presses his lips together tightly and goes back to helping me pick up. Under his breath, he begins to lightly hum the song.
“You said you wouldn’t laugh,” I say as he breaks out singing for real. He spits out the first verse as he walks to me.
When he finishes, we’re standing chest to chest, smiling at one another.
“Jerk,” I tease.
Our gazes lock, and I swear he’s going to kiss me. No witnesses, just us caught up in this happy fake relationship we’ve created. I have to admit, we’re good at pretending. So good that I think we’re both lost wondering what’s real and what’s not.
I can survive another year without a boyfriend, I remind myself. It’s my final shot to prove I belong—that I always belonged. No weaknesses I can control, and Nathan’s definitely starting to feel like a weakness.
“I’m tired,” I say and step back. There’s a note of disappointment in his body language as he watches me put distance between us.
“Yeah, I should go.” He walks to the door and doesn’t glance back as he leaves.
And now I’ve got “Ice Ice Baby” on the brain and no fake boyfriend to make out with.
13
Nathan
Monday, late morning between classes, I drop onto the couch in the living room. Shaw tosses me a remote without asking and restarts Tecmo Super Bowl.
“Where were you last night?”
“With Chloe.”
He nods. “You missed a crazy night at the baseball house. Jefferson bought four boxes of wine.” Shaw shakes his head. “I had the mother of all headaches this morning. Cheap wine hangover is rough.”
“Yeah,” I agree, feigning interest, but in truth, a night out getting wasted with my buddies doesn’t have quite the same appeal anymore.
I side-eye him as I select the Raiders, and he picks the 49ers.
“Get the fuck out of here, you can’t play the 49ers.” The old video game was made with a clear bias. 49ers are unbeatable.
He grumbles but picks the Giants. “You and Chloe, huh? She seems cool.”
“She is.”
“Think she’d put in a good word for me with Sydney?”
I chuckle. I’m just as likely to need him to put in a good word for me, but obviously, I can’t tell him that so I keep my mouth shut as we play three games only opening it to trash talk him when I kick his ass all three times.
I glance up at the clock in the living room, and Shaw catches me and stands up quickly. “Shit, we’re gonna be late to Comm.”
“I’m thinking of skipping.”
Alright, so I’m a pussy. I don’t want to face Chloe. I’m not embarrassed about wanting her… I mean, who wouldn’t? But it’s hard to keep my brain… and my dick… in check when we go from rubbing up on each other in front of her roommates to her running away from me when we’re alone. After our time at the gym together and then last night… I guess I thought there were some real feelings there. Guess just on my part.
I know it seems like it’d be easy to remember she’s paying me to pretend to like her, but I try and block that detail out as much as possible.
She doesn’t like you like that, asswipe. Or maybe she does, but the way she catapulted herself out of reach last night just as I was about to kiss her—she’s not giving in to any baser-level instincts.
“Yeah?” Shaw nods and stands there thoughtfully. “Maybe I’ll blow off my afternoon classes, too. I mean, if the captain of the basketball team can….” He shrugs with an annoying smirk.
“Fuck,” I say, but I stand and grab my backpack to head out.
We get to class a couple of minutes late, and I slip into the seat next to Chloe with a small smile in place. She scribbles onto her notepad and then angles it toward me.
Slacker
I take out a pen from the side pocket of my backpack.
Surfer Princess
Her face lights up and all that coaching I did on the way over about remembering my place and not getting in too deep goes right out the window. I proceed to draw an exaggerated sketch of her catching a wave.
She lifts a brow at the finished piece and writes, That’s not anatomically correct.
Okay, so I made her boobs a little—a lot—bigger. It’s art; a guy can dream.
You wanna work on the project tonight?
I hesitate with my answer, but I guess I’m a glutton for punishment. Sounds good.
After weightlifting, I head back to the house to shower and get ready for my study sesh with Chloe. I strip off my sweaty clothes and turn the shower on to let it warm up. While I wait, I scroll through my phone then say fuck it and pull up porn.
I’m not usually picky and will click on whatever the top trending videos are. Sex in just about any format does it for me. Today I’m looking for something specific. Or rather I’m excluding something specific. No blondes. No green eyes. Nothing that reminds me of Chloe.
That’s a lot of somethings it turns out because I scroll past video after video until I finally find one with a brunette with blue eyes framed behind dark-rimmed glasses. She wears a short skirt and a button-down white shirt that can barely contain her large boobs. The busty brunette leans over a large desk where some porn dude wearing only a tie tells her she’s been a very good secretary. I mute the sound as he comes around the desk and then bends her over it.
I wrap a hand around my semi. The steam from the shower starts to fog up the window in the bathroom and I put my phone on the counter and get more serious about this quickie release.
I glide my hand up and down my growing erection as I watch the CEO secretary fantasy play out. It’s pretty cliché and uninventive as far as porn goes, but my underutilized dick only cares about finally getting some action. And all I care about is getting off without thinking about the surfer princess driving me to bad porn.
Getting caught hooking up with other people would blow up our fake relationship façade, but even if I could get away with it, would I? Doubtful. My dick and I only seem to want her. Confirmed when I eventually close my eyes and step into the shower to play out my own cliché fantasy. The one that has a blonde goddess kneeling in front of me and taking me into her hot mouth as she looks up at me with those green eyes that own me.
All three of Chloe’s roommates sit in the living area with us while we work on the project. I feel like I’m a pretty good gauge of their acceptance of her and I’d give it a solid five. They aren’t including her, but they aren’t excluding her either, so it’s a start. The exception is Sydney. I don’t think Sydney dislikes anyone. She chatters non-stop while the five of us work, but she’s a nice buffer to what might otherwise be an awkward tension.
“I came up with a couple ideas on how to sell
it to the class, but none of them are great,” Chloe says with a disappointed scowl.
Chloe and I sit on the floor again tonight. We’re side by side looking over her ideas. She leans over into my space and reaches for the current marketing plan notes on the floor beside me. I hold stock still and try not to notice how she always seems to smell like sunshine and the ocean or how her boobs brush against my arm. Aaaand fail. There’s no way not to notice her or the way my body responds to her.
She glances up, green eyes dark. I stand abruptly. “I gotta make a call.” Everyone in the room turns to look at me and I add, “Be right back.” I add in a wink for good measure before I slip into the hallway.
My damn palms are sweaty. I feel all strung out on hormones like some fucking kid finding daddy’s porn magazine stash. Except all she did was brush against me. For fuck’s sake.
I grip the phone tightly as I wait for Heath to answer.
“Hey.” He sounds like I woke him, and I have to check the time before I respond.
“Shit, sorry. Did I wake you?”
“How long have you been at Valley and you still forget you’re three hours behind.”
“Yeah, well, let this be your warning—don’t do drugs, fucks up your brain,” I joke.
He doesn’t laugh. “Thanks for taking care of the tickets.”
“You can repay me by not getting any more. Two in one day? That’s fucked up, Heath.”
“I know, I know. I feel awful, but I can’t take it back,” he mutters.
“I’m serious. I can’t bail you out again. Last chance.”
He grumbles out another sullen apology, and I feel like I’ve sufficiently made my point.
“Now that I went all Dad on you, tell me about hockey.”
Heath gives me a rundown on the team this year, and he sounds excited and determined, which makes me feel good about all I’ve done. I just want to give the kid everything I had and more. He finishes with a yawn.