Page 39 of Hard to Fake

“Why would your alum pick her over you?”

“Because Caroline is perfect.”

The grid on her social is full of summer parties in the Hamptons, days by the pool, premieres in LA, nightclub openings in New York. She has more followers than me.

“Good thing you have a secret weapon.”

“What’s that?” I rise, my shirt brushing his sweater.

His slow grin is pure confidence. “Me.”

9

MILES

All afternoon, Brooke and I have been playing dress-up.

I’m six-four, so finding clothes is no slam dunk, yet she scans the racks with her critical eye, pulling garments that magically fit me.

As for her, she looks way too distracting, her outfit skimming her curves, her hair pulled back and plum lipstick on.

I’m pretty sure bossing me around turns her on.

She was the one who wanted to get clear on the boundaries, but every time she inspects me with those dark eyes, I wonder how wide they’d get if I backed her into the wall and slipped a hand up her skirt.

I’m supposed to be looking out for her, not imagining the things we could do in this dressing room before the sales associate busted us.

“I have to be back for shootaround," I say through the door after she approves the last outfit I emerged in.

“Just one more?”

I pull on another shirt and button it.

I've got a game in a few hours, which is what I should be focused on with the team pressure of Atlas being out—that or my grandma’s well-being.

Not Brooke’s laugh, her eyes.

Not why she doesn’t have an actual date to take to this event.

She always displays this utter confidence, so hearing her express nerves over her competition is surprising.

It doesn’t turn me off to see this side of her. If anything, her letting me in has the opposite effect.

She’s beautiful, with walls she keeps high on purpose. I’m allowed to wonder what it would be like to peel away everything and see what’s left.

"Did you get stuck in there?" she calls, sounding impatient.

I’m the most relaxed guy in every locker room, but the last half an hour she’s locked her feelings down and gone back to tough Brooke.

Her annoyance has me reaching for the door.

Fuck the buttons.

I step out of the changing room. "You think you can do it faster?”

She’s right outside, turning to face me when I emerge.

Her eyes widen as she takes me in, the shirt hanging open. There’s a flash of awareness.

---