Page 36 of Hard to Fake

"After you." He holds open the door of the walk-in closet, and I go in first.

I take in the side that's been converted entirely into basketball shoe storage.“Of course you have this many shoes.”

Miles joins me in the closet, leaning an elbow on my shoulder. "Gotta have options on the court."

“This is a weird question, but did you see my shoes from the other night?”

“Not sure. You left them on the balcony. Weren’t they broken?” He says it with the casualness of someone who could replace them fifty times over on a single day’s salary.

“Right.”

They were also some of my favorites, but I push the grief aside.

I ask about formal wear, and he points to some jackets at one end.

"That's all the formal wear you have?"

"Don't make my money in a tux, Princess.”

I run my hand over a navy suit, feeling the rough material.“These are too small.”

He strips down to his shorts, and I catch my lip between my teeth as I turn away. He pulls on the pants, and I swivel back to take him in.

“Huh. You’re right,” he says, tugging for a millimeter of spare fabric in his pants. “Coach figured I could put on ten pounds of muscle this summer.”

“And did you?”

“Nah, I put on twenty.”

It’s fake, I remind myself.

But I can ogle my fake boyfriend a little, right? Just to get into the proper headspace.

"Well, we need to find you something that fits,” I say, glancing up at him. “Time to go shopping.”

* * *

We take Miles’s Range Rover.

On the way, I admit I haven’t eaten, and he insists on stopping at a Mexican fast-food place. He orders six tortillas, and I get two and a Diet Coke.

“So, you and Jay, you’re three years apart.”

“Two and a half,” I correct. “He was a winter baby. I was summer.”

“Your family’s a pretty big deal.”

“My mom got into politics when I was young. Never looked back.”

“A lot of cameras.”

“Less than being in the NBA,” I quip.

“Yeah, but at least we know when we’re on camera.”

I turn that over. “Society holds women to impossible standards. Jay can do whatever he wants, as long as he’s employed and stays on the right side of the law, and he’s golden. For me, I can’t wear a skirt too short or swear or express opinions different from my mom’s. People have an opinion on how much I work and who my friends are.”

“Sounds rough.”

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