Page 24 of Faking Ties

Brian waves me through to Stella’s suite, and I find her standing in the middle of the room in a white robe and white, fluffy socks when I walk in.

Fuck. She’s even more beautiful than I remember. It’s been two weeks of messaging her every day and two weeks of her barely replying or leaving me on read. We need to get to know each other to sell this lie. But a huge part of me also worries she doesn’t really need me or this fake relationship; not like I need her. Messaging her and bringing her small presents feelsright. Maybe it’s too much for a fake relationship, but it’s all I’ve got.

It’s also an outlet for all the pressure on me at training camp. I’m neck-deep in proving myself to Coach and Evren, showing that my shoulder injury is fully healed, and failing miserably at trying to make nice with my teammates. My first trial of being nice to Marcus, our running back, didn’t go well. After a grueling practice, I asked how he’s holding up with the heat wave we’re experiencing. He gave me a long look before asking if I was serious. He then proceeded to tell me it’s common knowledge he’s from Miami, somewhere that experiences far more heat than Skyrise.

Him highlighting how out of the loop I am was embarrassing as hell. Maybe Quincy’s advice is wrong and it’s pointless to try to integrate with them. Maybe it’s easier to focus on football and Stella rather than them.

I’ve rewatched the videos she sent of her eating pie thousands of times. It’s something I’ve come to look forward to after my grueling day. A ray of sunshine in a shitstorm. When I first opened it, it was completely unexpected. Hilarious and sexy, just like her. She keeps me on my toes, and if I let her, she could easily consume all my thoughts. But it doesn’t appear like I’m even a blip on her radar based on her lukewarm responses.

“Hi,” Stella says, fidgeting with the navy bracelet on her arm. “Thanks for coming.”

“As if I’d miss it.” I put my suit over the back of the couch.

“We need to leave soon and… What’s that?” She points to the box I’m still carrying.

“A present.” I hand it to her, and she shakes it.

She slowly lifts the lid of the peanut butter–swirled brownies and grins. “Do you want a reenactment of my video?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t say no to it.”

She raises an eyebrow before taking a bite and…quacking like a duck.

“Aren’t you funny,” I deadpan.

“Do you want a video of that too?”

“Yes, and I’d watch it a thousand times, just like I did the others.”

She blushes and clears her throat. “Right, well, thank you for these because they will be my breakfast, lunch, and dinner all rolled into one delicious package.”

“You haven’t eaten?” I look her up and down. Is she swaying a little? It looks like she lost weight since I last saw her. She definitely needs something substantial to eat.

She shakes her head. “There was no time, but I’d kill for a cheeseburger. Can we get one after this movie thing?”

“Or better idea, how about we eat one now?” I don’t wait for her response as I dial room service. When I’m done, she’s staring at me in shock.

“What?” I ask.

“You ordered me a cheeseburger.”

“Because you’re hungry.”

She gives me a strange look, one I don’t know how to interpret.

“You didn’t have to,” she says softly. “I could’ve waited.”

“Not on my watch.”

“But I don’t think we have enough time to eat it.”

“We’ll make the time. Or, worst case, we’ll eat in the car.”

“Right.” She looks almost lost, as if she’s not used to being taken care of. Somehow, the thought of that doesn’t sit right with me. “Let me go get dressed, then.”

Once she disappears into the bedroom, I inform Brian about the incoming order. With nothing else to do but also get dressed myself, I use the living room to do just that. But I get distracted when my phone pings.

Dad: Why the hell do I have a notification that you’re in LA and not at training camp?

---