Page 51 of Wild Pucker

"I'm sorry," I whisper, glancing downward. "I wanted to give you a real chance. I honestly did. You're so nice and funny, and you're definitely not hard on the eyes, but—" I trail off and shrug my shoulders.

"But you're in love with Chase."

I look up at him again, knowing truth and guilt are shining there. "But I'm in love with Chase," I agree and smile sadly. Sam looks disappointed but not angry.

"Well, you can't blame a man for trying," he says, resigned.

"Do you hate me?"

"No, Lily," he smiles again, pulling my hands out from under me and holding them in his. They're warm, dry, and firm, just like a man's hands should be. "I could never hate you. Am I disappointed? Of course. But I'd rather you be honest with me than pretend. Chase is a lucky man." He pauses, looking around my office. "So, what are we going to do about these dates, then?"

"Well, we still have to go on them," I sigh. "Holly and Avery have too much sponsorship money banking on this, and there are the charities to consider too."

"Right," he nods, then grins like he's hatching a plan. "How are your acting skills?"

"Mediocre at best. Terrible at worst."

"I say we give the people what they want. We have to at least make it look good. No one wants to watch a platonic couple force themselves to try and fumble through dates. We have the keys to the city to do whatever we want. Let's have fun with it."

"Okay," I agree hesitantly. "But I'm not lying to Chase. I promised I'd come clean with you today. We just can't let anyone else know what's happening because we signed contracts that we need to fulfil."

"Don't worry so much, Lily." He smiles again, and I swear to god that by the end of this farce, the only person in Toronto not in love with Sam will be me.

♥?

I make it home just in time for the start of the game. Sam and I worked all morning and late into the afternoon putting together nutrition packages for the team. Technically, it's up to Sam to deliver on the nutrition side of things, but after basically dumping him, I wasn't going to bail and leave him to do all the work alone. And really, our work goes hand in hand. I can't cook to the team's nutrition guidelines if I don't know them like the back of my hand.

"This has to be the longest walk of shame in the history of the world," Riley sasses me from the couch. She already has the game ready to go with snacks. I haven't seen her since yesterday morning because I obviously didn't come home last night, and Riley had already left for school when I popped in to change before work.

I don't dignify her jab with a response.

"So," she prompts, leaning over the couch, giving me an eyebrow waggle.

"So what?"

"Ugh! Stop evading and start dishing. Despite what the masses saw last night when Chase dropped you off," she adds air quotes around her words as if I don't know I didn't come home. "I'm your roommate. I was here in bed, all by my lonesome, and you were not."

"Thanks for that, by the way. Glad you're feeding the rumour mill." I pull out my phone and read her latest comment out loud. "'WintersIsComing:It’s ten o'clock. Do you know where your roommates are? Because I don't. Here's hoping she's playing the horizontal mambo and not being mugged in an alley!' Are you kidding me, Riley?"

"I thought it was clever," she balks, hand to her chest like I've wounded her. Ever the dramatic princess. I can't stop my lips from turning up at the side. "And, to be fair, it's not a rumour if it's true." She has me there.

"Well, I'll put your mind at ease. I wasn't mugged." She squeals and claps, but I cut her off before she can escalate to couch humping and obscene hand gestures. "Nor did I do the horizontal mambo with Chase."

Riley immediately deflates. Literally, it's like someone put a pin in her and then kicked a puppy. I glance at the TV. They're still singing national anthems, so I run into my room and throw on a tank and track pants. By the time I trust-fall into the loving arms of the couch, Riley's ready to attack again.

"Me no understand?" she says, cross-eyed in a weird cavewoman voice. "What the hell were you doing over there? Playing Scrabble?"

Riley may be my bestie, but in a way, so is Chase. It's not my place to share his secrets with anyone until he's ready. I would never betray his trust like that.

"We talked."

"You talked? Like dirty, sexy talk? Was he all like, 'Come here baby, and ride this perfect face of mine until you come all over my tongue?'" She lowers her voice, putting on her best dude-bro voice, and I can't help but laugh and blush simultaneously. "Oh my god, did you sixty-nine?"

"That's not what he sounds like." I roll my eyes. "We just talked," I repeat. Riley looks so crestfallen that I actually feel a little bad for her. She probably spent her entire day imagining how this discussion would go, replaying all a million fictional conversations in her head. Have I mentioned Riley is slightly unhinged?

"I waited all day for juicy deets, and all you give me is, 'We talked.' I'm living vicariously through you right now. I wanted something sexier."

"Well, I did give him a hand job if that makes you feel better."

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