Page 57 of Fake Love

“I’ll get there, baby.” He says, throwing me another wink.

I can’t help but wonder if he called me baby because it slipped out or because we’re in public. Either way, I’m not going to call him out on it.

“I know you will.”

“I’ll meet you guys outside? Then you can tell me how in the fuck you know Hunter Jacobi.”

I shrug. “There’s nothing to tell. This one,” I nod towards Selena, “shares a bed with the man. But yeah, we’ll meet you outside.”

With a nod, Maddox leans in for another kiss before he makes his ways back into the dugout and disappears completely.

“If you tell me, there is nothing fake about the two of you.” Selena says in a soft voice, only for me and her to hear.

It definitely hasn’t felt fake in the last twenty-four hours.

17

JUNE 12, 2022

Maddox

I scroll through all the pictures in the file. I scroll until I find one that stands out to me.

It's a picture of me and Jen from two days ago after a game against Arizona. The picture was taken from the seats as we stand at the net. Her back is to the camera, her face isn’t visible but anyone that has been keeping a close eye these last seven weeks will know it’s her.

She’s in cut off shirts and wearing my jersey number on her back and a Miner hat on her head. If the camera was on her face, every one would see the bright smile she wore that night.

We had just won and I had pitched four full innings that night. So we were doing what we’ve been doing after every single home game that I had pitched in for the past month.

Meeting at the net and kissing.

The picture may be mostly of Jen’s back, but you can see the smile on my face as I lean in to her and going through our ritual.

Expect, it doesn’t feel like just a ritual to me.

“This one.” I say, handing over the phone to Jen as we sit on my couch discussing my social media strategy for the next month.

“Are you sure?” she asks, raising an eyebrow at me.

I nod. “Why not? You said so yourself that I have to show people something other than baseball.”

“But this still has baseball in it.”

“Just post the damn picture, woman.”

She gives me a smirk but gives me a nod, doing as I say.

“Okay, I think that might actually work. Gives a good mixture of work and personal.” She says, sitting up from where she lays to show me my Instagram feed.

In the last few weeks, my posts have grown in numbers. Before Jen I may have had maybe one hundred pictures, now it’s still not a huge amount but still significant for people to notice.

Which is why my following count on the platform has grown by thousands. I don’t care, but Jen says it's a good push in the right direction.

“I just see pictures, but if you say it's good, then I agree.”

She kicks my thigh with one of her feet. “It’s more than just pictures. It’s what the pictures say that people find captivating.”

“I guess.” I give her a shrug.

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