“Is that so?” I laugh nervously, rubbing my arms. “Then I guess we’re done here.”
I spring to my feet, gathering my things, but before I can escape, his hand closes around my wrist.
My breath catches as I glance down at him.
“There’s one more thing,” he says.
“Wh…what?” My voice trips over itself.
“The way you look at me.”
I’m sure my chin is red now because I feel all the blood in my body rush to my face. How do I look at him? How?
“What do you mean?” I manage to ask, barely above a whisper.
“You need to look at me like you’re in love,” he says.
Relief flickers through me when I realize he’s still talking about our act, not me. But then his fingers lift, tilting my chin toward him, and my throat goes dry. My gaze drops to his lips, and panic surges.
“I think I’m good,” I blurt, stumbling back. Clutching my books to my chest, I make for the door before I can completely fall apart.
KATY’S POV
I slip into the lecture hall and sink into my usual seat, letting my bag drop beside me. My gaze flicks around the room before I can stop myself, and I scan the faces of everyone present. Of course, I already know Braydon’s schedule, so I know he shouldn’t be here. Still, I only exhale once I’m certain. It’s ironic, really.
He’s supposed to be my fake boyfriend, and yet here I am, relieved he isn’t anywhere near me. And today is supposed to be our first day for everything we planned but my stomach is fluttering with nerves. The truth is that after last night, I need space, breathing room, and time to convince myself I’m not making a mistake by trusting him. I usually pride myself on making good choices. Safe ones.
But with him, all my carefully built walls crumble, and wisdom evaporates. That’s how I end up doing things like kissing him like I want it and like I’m not supposed to remember it’s fake. Worse, I didn’t just kiss him, I melted and moaned into his mouth as if I couldn’t help myself. The memory sends a shiver racing down my spine, and I shift in my seat, wishing I could shake the feeling away. “Miss me?” a familiar voice teases in my ear.
I jump, startled, before turning. Allie slides into the chair beside me, her smile bright and easy. Right on cue, our professor walks to the podium, but I barely notice him because I’m too busy staring at my best friend. “I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow,” I whisper, grinning as relief warms my chest. God, it feels good to see her.
Allie isn’t just my roommate, she’s my anchor, and my sister in every way that matters. She’s been gone for days, celebrating her anniversary with her boyfriend, and I hadn’t realized how much I missed her until now. “So basically, you didn’t miss me,” she says, pulling out her notebook, her eyes glinting with mischief. “I missed you so much my entire life collapsed without you,” I whisper dramatically. She smothers a laugh.
“Or maybe you were just having too much fun without me.” If only she knew. Fun is the last word I’d use for all the mess that happened. And I know she’s going to freak out when I tell her because I have to tell her. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it while she was away because I didn’t want to ruin her week. But now that she’s back?
There’s no hiding and there’s too much to unpack. “I’ll tell you everything after class,” I whisper, flipping open my notebook. Her pen pauses midair, and she leans closer, her brows raised. “Now I’m anxious.” “After class,” I whisper back, forcing my attention to the podium. The professor’s voice drones on, but the words might as well be static.
My heart is already racing, my palms damp against the notebook. Just the thought of telling Allie what happened makes me feel nauseous. She has the kind of relationship people dream about with a steady, loving boyfriend. Meanwhile, mine crashed and burned in the ugliest way possible. The contrast feels like holding up my mess beside her perfection, and part of me wants to swallow it down and never say a word.
But I know I can’t. She’s my best friend. And if there’s anyone I can break in front of, it’s her. When the lecture finally ends, Allie wastes no time. She grabs my wrist and practically drags me outside, weaving through the crowd until we find a quiet corner.
Her eyes are already wide, her whole body buzzing like she might explode if I make her wait a second longer. “Okay,” she says, hands on her hips. “Tell. Me. Everything.” I let out a shaky laugh, but it dies in my throat.
“You think it’s some funny, messy story,” I murmur, staring down at my shoes. “But it’s not.” Her teasing smile slips slightly. “Then start wherever you can.” So I do. I tell Allie everything, starting with catching Bryan cheating and his mockery afterward, which pushed me into a fake relationship with Braydon. The words come out shakier than I expect, and by the time I finish, I feel wrung out.
Allie just stares at me, her eyes so wide it almost makes me laugh if it didn’t hurt so much. For a long moment, she doesn’t say a word. Then she exhales slowly and pulls me straight into her arms. I sink into her hug, holding on tightly because God, I needed this. I haven’t even told Justin yet, so she’s only the second person to know, and somehow that makes me feel relieved.
When she finally pulls back, her hands stay firm on my arms as she searches my face. “Are you okay?” she asks quietly. I nod, a small, self-conscious laugh escaping. “Yeah. I mean, I cried last night… and then cringed myself into secondhand embarrassment over my own actions with Braydon.” “I’m going to kill Bryan when I see him,” she grinds out.
“How could he do that, and who does he even think he is?” I give a small shrug. “Guess you never really know someone, do you?” For a moment, the noise of the hallway swallows us before Allie leans closer until her shoulder brushes mine. “Okay, but…” she lowers her voice, her eyes practically gleaming, “are you one hundred percent serious about Braydon? Because if you are…” She doesn’t finish the sentence, but her grin is trying to break through. I narrow my eyes at her.
“Don’t you dare get excited.” But it’s too late because the sparkle in her gaze gives her away. She’s always been obsessed with Braydon and thinks he’s hotter than every lead in her comic books combined. Back in freshman year, she even ran his fan page before she started dating and reluctantly passed it on like she was handing over a crown. The way her eyes shine now, I can tell she’s trying to hide how thrilled she is at the drama. With a sigh, I dig out my phone and thrust it into her hands.
“Here. Proof.” Her jaw drops the second she sees his name light up my screen. I watch her scan the texts he sent me last night while I was curled up on my bed, crying over everything, and also trying to convince myself our fake relationship wasn’t a bad idea because of the kiss. BRAYDON: Send me your schedule, Peach. ME: Don’t call me Peach.
BRAYDON: Okay, send me your schedule, Princess. Allie slaps a hand over her mouth, her eyes bouncing between my screen and my face. “Oh my God. You’re not joking.” “Why would I joke about that?” I mutter, trying not to laugh. “Does Justin know about this?” she presses.
I shake my head, sighing. “No. And I don’t even know how to tell him.” She grins wickedly. “Girl, you are treading dangerous waters… but I fully support this.” I open my mouth to respond when a new notification flashes across my screen. “It’s Braydon,” Allie squeaks, clutching my arm.
“Shhh,” I hiss, leaning down to read it. BRAYDON: Your schedule says library time at 12 p.m. Still on, Princess? I roll my eyes at his text. First it was Peach, now it’s Princess.
What’s next, Queen of the Universe? I turn to complain, but Allie is practically glowing, her face lit up like Christmas as she stares at my phone. “Really?” I scoff. “You have a boyfriend and you’re drooling over another guy.” She shakes her head. “I hate to be this kind of best friend, but you’re literally texting Braydon.
Braydon!” She repeats it like she wants it to get inside my head. “Do you know what that is?” I stare down at my phone. It’s not like he’s Justin Bieber or something. “He’s a normal guy and my brother’s friend,” I say. She slaps her forehead.
“Do you realize you’re his first girlfriend ever, and he doesn’t do relationships?” I’m about to laugh her off when a sight snatches the sound out of my mouth. My chest tightens as my gaze snags on a figure across the quad, and my body feels like it’s being pricked with thorns as I stare. Allie follows my gaze to Bryan, who’s walking slowly a few meters away with his arm wrapped around a girl’s shoulder. A girl, different from the redhead he was with yesterday. I force my gaze away and swallow, hoping it soothes the heat rising inside me, but it doesn’t.
It hurts, and I’m scared to admit how much it does.
KATY’S POV
The library is unusually packed today as if people know what’s coming. Every table is filled with groups cramming for midterms, laptops glowing, and coffee cups balanced on notebooks. I try to keep my eyes on the book in front of me, but the words blur together as I read the same line three times. My body also feels restless because any moment now, Braydon will walk in, and I’m not sure if I’m ready for the attention that will follow. After seeing Bryan with that girl, though, every hesitation I had about this arrangement with Braydon vanished.
He didn’t just cheat, but also made a spectacle out of it. And as if doing that wasn’t enough, he had to parade someone else around campus like a trophy. But if he wants to go low, then fine. I’ll go lower. All the way down.
I glance down at my wristwatch, trying to calm the pounding in my chest. “Where is-” “It’s Braydon Cooper.” Someone at the next table half-whispers, and squeals at the same time. My head lifts on instinct, and there he is, walking down the row of tables like he owns the place. Even in a library full of stressed-out students, he’s impossible to miss. Conversations dip, pages stop turning, and a few phones tilt in his direction as he heads straight for my table.
He stops in front of me, his green eyes locking on mine. “Hey, Peach.” “You’re here,” I whisper, tearing my gaze away before anyone can see the heat creeping into my cheeks. He pulls out a chair and drops into the seat beside me, earning a chorus of gasps from nearby tables. I can’t tell if people are shocked to see him in the library because let’s be real, this is probably his first time here, or if it’s because he chose to sit with me. Either way, the attention is loud, and it’s exactly what we planned.
“Reading without me?” he teases, leaning closer and his fingers brush a strand of hair behind my ear like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I feel so hurt.” I lick my lips, trying to keep my cool. He told me from the start he’s a handsy guy, and I agreed I’d play along. So yeah, I’ll be the girl who acts unbothered by the campus heartthrob touching her in the middle of the library, even if my pulse clearly didn’t get the memo. “We both know you hate reading,” I tell him, forcing a smile that feels way too charming.
“And please don’t touch me out of nowhere. Give me a heads-up.” He leans in closer, and I almost jerk back but catch myself just in time. “I thought we went through this.” He whispers, then pulls out a can of Coke from his pocket, setting it in front of me. “I didn’t know if you preferred coffee or soda.” The gesture is simple, but it sends the room into overdrive. Whispers ripple from the aisles, and I catch people peeking from behind the shelves, pretending to browse while very obviously staring.
Seriously? What’s their deal? Yeah, Braydon’s a star on the hockey team and will probably go pro after college, but they’re acting like he’s already a celebrity or in the NHL. Well… I shouldn’t complain. The faster the news reaches Bryan, the better.
“Thanks, Bray,” I manage, the word strangling me on its way out. He cringes. “Bray? That’s the best you’ve got?” I bite my lip, mortified. What am I even supposed to call him?
Bryan and I never did nicknames, and we were on a first-name or baby basis. And there is no universe where I’m calling Braydon baby. He sighs, clearly over my struggle, then grabs my wrist and tugs me to my feet. Before I can react, he’s pulling me between two shelves into a quiet corner, away from all the eyes burning holes into us. “Are you really this stiff?” he asks, caging me in against the wall.
“Bray? Really?” I glance around, making sure no one’s watching, before muttering, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to call you. Bray’s not that bad.” He scoffs. “Out of thousands of options, you go with Bray? Try something better.
Maybe… Big guy.” “Big guy?” I arch a brow. He nods smugly, gesturing to himself like the answer is obvious. My eyes betray me, running over him before I can stop. And fine, he’s not wrong. He’s all man, from the broad chest stretching his shirt to the long legs and fingers that make him seem even bigger in the cramped space.
I snap myself out of it before my gaze drifts lower, folding my arms across my chest to put some distance between us. Not that it helps because he’s close enough that one wrong move and we’ll be pressed together. “I’m not calling you Big Guy,” I tell him flatly. “But I’ll come up with something… nicer.” “And it has to be before Zach’s party,” he shoots back. “Zach’s party?” I narrow my eyes.
“Who the hell is Zach, and why are you suddenly bringing him into this?” I can tell where this is heading, and yeah, I hate it already. “Because we’re going to that party,” he says. I shake my head. “Nope, that’s not happening. We agreed on bars and one home game.
That’s it. Nothing about frat houses, or parties.” “Zach’s our goalie,” he says, like that alone should settle the argument. “And there’s no way I’m missing his birthday bash.” “Then go alone.” He smirks, leaning closer. “That’d be weird… when I’ve got a hot girlfriend I’m supposed to show off.” My heart does that annoying thump-thump thing, but it’s not nearly enough to change my mind. Loud parties are the last place I want to be.
They drag up memories I’ve spent years trying to bury, and a part of me I don’t let anyone near. Agreeing to bars was already pushing it, but this? This is a hard no. “I’m not going,” I say again, firmer this time. “Bryan isn’t going to figure it out just because I’m not glued to your side twenty-four-seven.” “Peach, it’s just-” “No.” The word scrapes out harsher than I intend, but I don’t care.
His persistence grates on me, mostly because I can see where this is going. He’ll keep pressing, trying to dig into the reason I avoid places like that, but I don’t talk about it. Not now. Not ever. “I don’t know why-” he starts, only to stop when a girl sidles up to the shelf beside us.
She isn’t fooling anyone by pretending to look at books, because her ears are all wide. I paste on a sweet smile and reach up, pretending to adjust Braydon’s collar. “Hold still,” I murmur. He raises a brow but quickly plays along, sliding his hand around my waist and tugging me against him. Now we’re chest-to-chest, close enough that my pulse skips in protest.
The girl lingers a second too long before finally moving on. “Why can’t people just mind their business?” I mutter, tugging at his collar one last time before dropping my hand. He stays rooted to the spot, staring at me like he’s trying to figure me out. The silence stretches long enough to make me shift on my feet. “People are going to start talking about us,” he finally says, shrugging out of his jacket.
“I know you hate loud places for some reason you won’t tell me, but everyone’s gonna be at that party. If you really want to prove him wrong, that’s the best night.” I open my mouth, ready to argue, but before I can get a word out, he presses his hockey jacket into my hands. Then, with a quick, almost disarming softness, he taps my chin with his knuckles. “I’ll see you tonight.” And just like that, he strides out, leaving me staring down at the jacket clutched in my grip.
KATY’S POV
“Text me the details,” I tell our debate president as I step out of the hall, and she gives me a quick thumbs-up in reply, already turning to talk to someone else. I exhale, shifting my bag higher on my shoulder as I make my way toward the campus caf?. Honestly, I’d been praying for practice to end early because I’m so thirsty, and all I can think about right now is getting a drink. And maybe it’s everything that’s happened today, or maybe it’s just the long hours, but I feel completely drained as I walk. It’s like I’ve lived three days in one.
And the worst part is knowing I still have tutoring with Braydon tonight. The thought alone makes me sigh, my hand raking through my hair. As I push forward, two girls walk past me, and one of them tilts her head my way and whispers something to her friend. Then, clear as day, I hear her say, “Yeah, that’s her.” My steps falter a little, and I turn back, just to make sure she isn’t pointing at someone behind me. But the hallway is empty, and no one is behind me.
Which means… she was pointing at me. My mind starts to scramble for a reason why. Did I drop something? Do I look weird? I’m still trying to figure it out when another girl walks past.
She keeps her phone angled low, pretending to scroll, but the lens is tilted straight at me. She flicks her eyes up for half a second before looking away, like she didn’t just snap a picture. A knot tightens in my stomach. I raise my hand to my face, brushing across my cheek, my forehead, and even my lips, half-expecting to find something smeared, but my fingers come away clean. So then… why is everyone staring?
When I push through the caf? doors, it’s packed with students clustered around small tables, and the baristas are calling out names over the buzz of conversation. But the moment I step inside, a hush seems to roll over the place, and heads turn, eyes landing on me. It’s that strange, heavy silence, like everyone knows a private joke about me and I’m the last one to find out. God, it’s freaking me out. Is this still about Braydon?
I keep my pace steady and slip into line at the counter. All I want is an iced coffee, maybe two cups if it’ll keep me alive through tutoring later. Behind me, a girl joins the line. At first, I don’t pay her any attention, assuming she’s probably waiting on her order. But then she edges closer…too close and I feel the warmth of her breath at my neck before her fingers tug lightly at my sleeve.
I spin around, startled, and she takes a quick step back, hands up like she didn’t mean it. “Sorry,” she says, a nervous smile tugging at her lips. “I just wanted to check if it’s real or fake. You don’t mind, do you?” Take a look at what? I think, blinking.
Then I look down at myself, and it hits me. Damn it. The jacket. I’m wearing Braydon’s hockey jacket with his name stitched across the back. Everything suddenly clicks into place: the stares, whispers, and secret photos.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.