Page 39 of The Hearts We've Broken
“Mikey just isn’t the type for commitment,” Ellison interjected. “It’s been a bit of an adjustment for all of us.”
“Interesting.” I looked at my drink, still pulling at the corner of the label, the condensation from the drink dampening it.
“I hope you know we’re happy for you guys.” Isa recovered, like she thought she might have offended me.
Heat rose to my cheeks, and I looked up. “Thanks. Deep down, I think he’s a good guy, he just has a weird way of showing it.”
I’d wondered early on why exactly he needed a fake girlfriend, but I didn’t really question it. At the time, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer. Now, the further we leaned into the act, I wondered if there was something deeper behind it.
“What, you think the media suspects it’s a fake relationship?” Ellison nearly choked on her drink, bringing me back to the conversation.
“I mean, plenty of celebrities get into relationships forthe sake of PR.” Isa shrugged. “I’m not saying that’s what this is.” She gave us a quick once-over. “I mean, look at them. Mikey can hardly keep his hands off her, and he’s never brought a girl around us as much as he does Juniper. There are too many factors for it to not be real.”
“I’d say this is your hopeless romanticism coming out, but you have a point.” Ellison seemed to accept what Isa was saying, and the rest of the guys nodded like they couldn’t see any flaws in her reasoning.
I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth. We were clearly faking it well if the people closest to Mikey weren’t suspicious. I mean, that was what he was obviously doing. Faking it. Making it believable.
None of this was real.
“We’re right here, guys,” Mikey cut in.
A guilty expression flashed across Isa’s features. “Yeah, sorry. Don’t mean to be speculating about your relationship in front of you.” She laughed without humor.
“We’re happy for you, man,” Colter added. “I think this is good for you. I like seeing you focused on the rodeo. It’s also nice not having to meet someone new every week. We might have been wrong about you.”
I didn’t think anyone else noticed, but Mikey’s smile faltered, all emotion draining out of his eyes. I didn’t want to see the other guys as bad people—I didn’t think they were. But I also didn’t think they understood the effect their little jabs and comments had on their friend.
No one deserved that, no matter how many bad decisions they’d made in the past.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
mikey
Iscored an eighty-eight-point-five in my SuperSeries championship, securing my spot in the semifinals alongside Maverick and two other bull riders out of California and Arizona respectively. I had just over a week before I’d compete again, but the other guys were competing in the upcoming rodeos, so I’d still be in the arena as a spectator.
Until then, though, we had a few days where none of us were competing, and I had big plans for me and Juniper. I wanted to get the most out of the trip and make sure she experienced things in Houston outside of the rodeo.
“Where are we going?” she asked as we drove down the streets of Houston.
I grinned at her curiosity—and her persistence, as this was about the fifth time she’d asked on the fifteen-minute drive. “I told you, it’s a surprise.”
She huffed from her seat next to me in protest but didn’t ask again as we neared the building.
“Mini golf?” Suspicion laced in her tone as I pulled into the parking lot.
“Come on, it’ll be fun.” I got out of the pickup and walked around the front to get to her door. I grabbed the door handle right as she swung it open, only barely avoiding getting hit in the face. I held it open for her as she stepped out, the sun shining through her golden hair.
“If this is your idea of fun, I think I’ve had you wrong this whole time,” Juniper muttered as we made our way across the parking lot.
I shrugged. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me. Good opportunity to get to know me better since we’re here, don’t you think?”
She mumbled something I couldn’t quite make out, but once we walked through the front doors, her eyes widened.
The entire space was cloaked in neon, with spotlights dancing along the walls and green turf floor. Bright LED signs hung on the walls among paintings in frames, murals, and greenery. Near the front desk, gumball machines filled with vibrant-colored golf balls lined the wall across from a row of putters in all lengths and colors.
“I can confidently say I was not expecting this.” She laughed awkwardly as we stepped up to the counter.
“How can I help you?” The teenager who was working looked, and sounded, bored out of his mind.
