Fake Fiancée

“Don’t you have practice?”

“I’ll come after and bring dinner. You like sushi?”

“I love it,” she murmured, “but that sounds like too much trouble for you. You don’t get finished until late, and you’ll be exhausted. I can cook something if you want. Everyone says my lasagna—”

“No. Don’t go to any trouble for me. You have enough going on with work. I’m bringing dinner. It’s a date.”

She blinked up at me. “Okay.”

Wait.

Was I dating my fake girlfriend?

Nah. I pushed that thought away. We were just friends.

Sunny

“HE HAS MORE MUSCLES IN his back than I have in my whole body,” I told Isabella as we had lunch Wednesday at the hotdog place in the Student Center.

“Let me get this straight: you had Max Kent half-naked in your bedroom and didn’t try to nail him?”

“He was helping me pull down wallpaper. It wasn’t exactly romantic.”

She waved her hands around. “He’s the hottest quarterback in the history of Georgia. It’s imperative you go to pound town. You can tell your grandchildren someday . . . you can write your memoirs. More importantly, you can tell me about it.” She dunked a French fry in her ketchup and popped it in her mouth. Tall with long raven hair, a snub nose, and sparkling blue eyes, she was a striking combination of pretty and sass. “I don’t get it. You’re fake-dating the hottest guy on campus, and you’re not having sex. You are crazy.”

“We’re friends. It’s nice.”

“What’s nice is the way he fills out his uniform.”

“Can’t disagree with you, but there’s more to him than just being a jock.”

“What?” she sputtered. “Are you actually admitting that you might like him?”

Before I could answer, a tall guy with a slightly graduated Mohawk sauntered to our booth and looked pointedly at Isabella. “Hey,” he said with one of those male chin nods.

She started. “Why, hey . . . there . . . you. I didn’t expect to see you so soon.” She sent me a pleading glance. “Um, this is the guy I was telling you about. From the frat party.”

Oh. Her one-night stand from a few weeks ago. I smiled up at him, noticing his blush. He liked her.

I stuck my hand out, knowing full well Isabella was in a quiet tizzy over there while cramming in her hot dog. She didn’t do repeat performances or speak to her one-night stands again.

“I’m Sunny.” I shook his hand and checked him out. With the buzzed hair and gauges in his ears, he wasn’t her usual. I recalled her explanation earlier of exactly where he was pierced and did my best to keep my eyes off his crotch.

He sent me a warm smile, his teeth white and straight. Tall with plenty of muscle, he looked athletic—of course I would notice. He was hot, especially with his square-cut face and whiskey-colored eyes.

“I’m Ash.”

“You having lunch?” I was filling in the gaps because Isabella was not helping. She was too busy staring a hole through her half-eaten hotdog.

“I was just on my way out actually and wanted to say hi.” He shifted his backpack on his shoulder, his eyes roving back to Isabella.

Hmm. Did I know him? Leland was small, and he was definitely memorable enough that I wouldn’t forget him.

“Are you new here?”

He nodded. “Just transferred in from North Carolina. I don’t know a lot of people yet, but I met Nicole here at the frat party a few weeks back.”

Nicole? I glared at Isabella, but she just chewed faster, cramming fries in and then sucking down her Coke. That little liar.

I glanced back at Ash. “Well, it’s nice to meet you. And I’m from North Carolina too—so yeah.”

He continued to stand there.

And my goodness, my heart couldn’t take it. He didn’t know anyone and here he was being ignored by his one hookup.

I went with my gut, based on the openness of his face and the easy way he smiled. “Um, this is kinda random, but I’m in charge of a study group that meets at the library sometimes. Tonight’s the first meeting of the semester. Would you like to come?”

“Sure, that would be great.” He smiled broadly, a pleased expression on his face.

Isabella muttered under her breath.

“Did you say something, Isa—Nicole?” I asked.

“Nothing but yay.” She shook her hands like she was holding pom-poms.

I smirked. Inviting him was a bit reckless considering she obviously didn’t want anything to do with him. Maybe it was because I knew how hard it was to make friends when you hadn’t started here as a freshman. I knew exactly how it felt to feel alone. Mimi and Isabella were all I had.

We exchanged numbers, and he left saying he had to get to class.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Isabella flew at me. “I am going to kill you.” She yanked out her purse and began to reapply her lipstick.

I smiled. “You’ll actually have to have a conversation with someone who’s had their appendage in you.”

She pointed at me. “You, my dear, have no right talking to me about pushing guys away. We both have relationship issues so don’t be trying to fix me.”

Ugh. She was right. Whatever.

A few minutes later, Bianca walked into the restaurant with Felix by her side.

Stuck like glue, Felix’s hand was tucked in her back pocket to keep her close. She laughed up at him when he said something, and I had to admit, they looked good together, her dark to his light. A bulky guy with clipped dark hair and scruff on his jawline, he was attractive—but sweaty. “Why does he look so shiny? He practically glows with sheen.”

Isabella followed my eyes and shrugged. “Word is he works out all the time. Trying to be better than Max, I suppose.” She sent me a considering glance. “FYI: beware of Bianca. Felix is just her latest. Word is she still wants the number one quarterback. I don’t want you to get hurt, Sugartits.”

Yeah. Neither did I.

My eyes went to Bianca’s leopard-print miniskirt and frilly black shirt. She looked more like a model than a student. I gazed down at my denim shorts. I really needed to ramp up my sexiness—especially before the home game this weekend. I hadn’t been able to attend the first one this past weekend because of work, and it was making Max antsy that I wasn’t in the stands watching him play—like a good girlfriend should.

As if she knew what I was thinking, Isabella chimed in with her opinion. “You need to wear something slutty to the next game.”

“You offering to let me in your closet?” I grinned.

“I am the best.”

I laughed and tossed a French fry at her. She tried to catch it with her mouth, making me giggle harder.

Bianca swept her eyes over at us, as if our shenanigans annoyed her. A sneer curled on her face as she went from me to Isabella.

Isabella flipped her off, and I laughed.

But underneath the table, my hands tightened. Yeah. I was feeling possessive of Max, and no way was I going to let her outdo me at the game. I definitely needed to go shopping . . .

Max

“GREAT GAME LAST WEEKEND.” THE pretty, twenty-something assistant smiled up at me as she led me into the Athletic Director’s office Wednesday afternoon.

She indicated I sit in a roomy leather armchair, her eyes brushing appreciatively over my frame as I settled in. “Dr. Carmen will see you in just a minute.”