Page 66 of The Fake
She doesn’t give me time to answer. Her face scrunches up, and she visibly cringes. “Oh, God, sorry. I’m totally that girl.”
“What girl?” I glance from the road to her face. I bite back a laugh at her panicked expression.
She gives me a look that says she’s not saying any more, so I put her out of her misery. “You’re not that girl. We’re hanging out.”
The words don’t quite describe us, I know, but we’ve only been dating for real for two days.
“Hangingout?”
Desire to claim her, tell her I want her to be my girlfriend, and that we’ll figure out the rest later courses through me, but I can’t do that. Who knows what she’ll want in another few weeks after her teammates come around? And they will.
I don’t want to be the guy who saved her, I want to be the guy she chooses. I’d like to believe this is one of those good things in my life I’m going to be able to hang on to, but the pessimist in me isn’t ready to forge ahead so blindly.
“Listen, we’ve got a couple weeks left in our fake relationship to figure it out. By then, you may be sick of me. Until then, let’s just roll with it.”
* * *
Tuesday afternoon practice is shit and the team looks sloppy. Coach is on the floor demonstrating an inbound play that should be so easy middle schoolers could get it done. Sitting on the sidelines getting water and taking a break after almost an hour of non-stop play, Joel and I share the same worried expression. After winning the NCAA tourney last year, all eyes are going to be on us and we fucking suck.
“We gotta do something,” he says and drapes the towel over his head. “I don’t wanna go out like this. Last year and we’re going to be laughed off the court.”
I’d been thinking the same thing and I think of Chloe so willing to do anything to fit in with her team. Maybe it’s not the rookies. Maybe it’s us.
“What about having the team over tonight? Just the guys.”
He nods. “Like a team intervention? We could go over all the shit they’re fucking up.”
“Nah, man. No basketball talk, just hanging, relaxing, getting to know them.”
“You wanna make friends with the rookies?” He quirks one dark eyebrow.
I shrug. “What we’re doing now isn’t working. You got a better idea?”
Joel doesn’t answer right away. Coach yells out for us to sub back in, and we get to our feet quickly.
“Let’s do it,” he says. “I’m willing to try anything.”
After practice, Joel and I each tell a few guys about the plan for the night and then he takes off to get supplies while I go back to the house and survey our stock. I text him a list of things and then jump in the shower.
When I walk back into my room naked except the towel I’m currently using to dry off my hair, Chloe’s there on my bed. Books and laptop sprawled out, she smiles up at me, heat in her gaze. “You just walk around naked on a Tuesday afternoon?”
“Not usually hot girls sitting on my bed when I get out of the shower. Did I conjure you up because the Chloe I was thinking about while I soaped up was naked too and you’re fully clothed?”
“We’re supposed to work on our Comms project. You forgot, didn’t you?”
“Shit. Yeah, sorry. Team is coming over in an hour.”
She nods and looks me over. I still haven’t bothered to cover myself. “But you have an hour?”
Pretending I don’t know what she’s angling at, I sit on the bed and pick up a textbook. It’s upside down, but she doesn’t notice. “Sure. We could probably get the first section done in an hour. You think?”
I run my fingers through my still damp hair and then run a hand over my chest to wipe away some water drops. She watches every movement I make; her pretty lips part and quiver. She’s so still I can’t be sure she’s breathing.
“Chloe?”
Her gaze snaps to mine. “Sorry, yeah, let’s do that.” She tries to recover, fumbling with a notebook and pen.
“Chlo?”
