Page 71 of Faking It With My Pucking Protector
My breath catches.
After all the travel, the media, the back-to-back playoff games, he still remembered.
I reach for my phone again and just stare at the thread for a long moment before texting him back:
You’re officially the best fake boyfriend on the planet.
He responds with a winking emoji and a thumbs-up. It’s enough to make me laugh.
There’s something about this trip, about him, that makes it harder to keep pretending.
And I wonder if there’s anything about this that still feels fake at all.
Chapter Twenty
JACKSON
Ialmost knocked on her hotel door.
That thought’s been haunting me the last few days. It followed me through video review with Coach Barrett this morning, the post-game debriefs yesterday, and even while helping the boys with their costumes this afternoon. And now, driving them over to Ava’s storytelling event, it’s still there.
Late that last night in New Jersey, ice bucket in hand, I found myself slowing in front of her door.
Because some selfish, reckless part of me wanted to see her. To close the distance.
But I didn’t deserve that. Not after pulling away. Not when I’m still figuring out what it means to let someone in again.
And not when she’s Greg’s sister.
So, I turned around.
Just walked back to my room and shut the door behind me, like that would be enough to shut the rest of it out.
It wasn’t.
“Daddy!” Noah’s voice slices through my thoughts. “Liam’s sword is stabbing me!”
“It is not,” Liam mumbles, stiff in his booster seat.
I glance in the rearview. Noah flaps his arms in his green fleece dragon costume, the shiny wings fluttering as he moves. His face is painted with gold and orange swirls, which he insisted was fire, and his tail keeps bouncing against the seat. He’s chaos incarnate.
Liam, on the other hand, is sitting perfectly upright. He’s wearing a sleek silver knight costume, a plastic sword resting carefully across his lap. A lightweight helmet sits slightly askew his neatly brushed hair. His fingers curl around the handle of his sword, like he’s bracing himself. He’s quieter than usual. He always is in new places.
But I know seeing Ava will fix that.
Liam lights up around her in a way that never fails to soften something deep in my chest.
Ava is already at the convention center. She went early to set up. Miss Taylor said the boys talked nonstop about this event while we were gone, that they couldn’t wait to dress up and see Ava at story time. It’s a quarter to four now, and we’re running exactly on time.
The boys fall into a light bicker about whether dragons can read. Noah insists they can, and I can’t help but smile in the rearview mirror.
But as I drive, my mind drifts back to New Jersey.
Back to the games. The boardwalk. The way her laugh unlatched something in me I hadn’t even realized was locked up.
My grip tightens on the wheel.
But now nothing about being with her feels fake. It feels easy. Real.
