Page 68 of Hard to Fake

MILES

“Huh. New max,” Rookie says as I finish my leg press.

I grunt. “Better be.”

Rookie nods for me to swap out with him for his set.My thighs shake as I rise and step out, letting him work in as I reach for my water bottle and chug the contents.

We’re on the road for two games this week. After last week’s positive momentum, we dropped the first one. It felt like a setback, though no one’s saying it out loud.

“Shooting guard tomorrow had thirty-five points last night,” Jay comments.

“Miles will crush him tomorrow. Right?” Rookie asks.

“Uh-huh,” I say absently as I open my socials.

There are too many comments to respond to today. Lots of women, including a few in my DMs from the city I’m visiting.

Busy, I start to type.

But the truth is… I don't want to.

I click into the pics of me and Brooke that Nova sent me this morning with a text saying, You should look at these.

Never understood the impulse girls have to take pics, to obsess over them, but I’ve looked at these half a dozen times.

Maybe more.

One frame after another of us close, me touching her, her smiling at me.

We look good together.

She's beautiful, smart, and funny. She sees another side of me, one I’ve never thought too hard about.

But it’s one thing to play a game with her. It’s another to be so consumed by her I can’t think of anyone else, to think that she might be the prize.

I’ve got a lot of casual friends, but letting someone in close is a big deal. They leave, there’s a hole in your heart.

Brooke’s worked her way in.

I want Brooke Ellis.

There, I said it.

Since she asked me to be her fake boyfriend, my cock is always hard, my brain is useless, and the way she looks at me like she could either fuck me or eviscerate me is my Roman Empire.

She’s the one setting all the ground rules, but she kissed me.

Her perfect body was over mine and I could have easily worked off her pants, been inside her in that car in under a minute.

I know because I’ve pictured it a thousand damned times since.

Problem is, she’s not some woman looking for a good time that I can easily part ways with after one night or a couple.

She’s a part of my life, and through Jay, of my job.

Which is why the last few days with her brother have been guilting the hell out of me.

I know what I should do: shut this down, tell her I can’t go with her, find her someone else—someone who doesn’t want her like I do.

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