Page 105 of Out of Bounds

"Move those stilettos!"

Mind whirling, I gripped my phone. It was a fake relationship. The fakest of relationships. And I’d tripped and fallen on my face, seconds away from throwing myself at him. Nobody ever made books about those.

How was I supposed to know this was going to happen?!

I walked along the patio’s railing, looking for the exit through the gardens when a voice called behind me. I flinched. Ryan’s husky, delicious voice still sent a shiver down my spine, even if it hurt.

You got too comfortable, Kassie.

My fake boyfriend was a hard-working, dedicated team captain who put his goals above everything else. At least I caught on before I made a fool of myself.

As best as I could, I fixed a smile on my face and turned back like my heart wasn’t thumping in my chest a mile a minute and humiliation wasn’t hanging on my shoulders, vulture-style.

"Hey," Ryan breathed out, with two dark blue drinks in hand.

Oh, he’s so good.

I swallowed. "How’s it—um—going?"

"Better now." He grinned and offered me the drink.

I held it in my hand for a moment. I had to say something. I needed to know. With a deep breath, I gazed up at Ryan. "King and June?"

He paused. "What about them?"

"They’re in a…fake relationship?"

His eyes widened and he took a reflexive step forward, dropping his voice. "You know?"

All my suspicions were confirmed. They were in a fake relationship too, one of the many in the goddamn football team apparently. A regular occurrence. Nothing special at all about it. Nothing special about the way Ryan kissed me or the way he put his arm behind my car seat when he drove out of the parking garage or how he carried my books to my classes.

Oh.

"They’re like…us?" I whispered.

"Yeah." Slowly, he nodded. "Exactly like us."

Ouch.

I’d just stumbled on the reveal but I could already see how miserable King was, hanging on the outskirts while June was in another relationship. Because that’s what this was. A silent transaction. Beneficial to both parties.

Where Ryan got a better reputation, more money for the school, his career ahead of him, and everything he wanted. And I had…my money for Florida. An internship that was scared stiff of me. And people who commented on my official social media pages saying how Ryan didn’t have to settle with me.

I couldn’t remember a single other time when I’d needed the drink more. While Ryan took a nice, respectable sip of his, I tossed the whole thing back without stopping until there were just ice cubes left. It burned down my throat.

"Art girl, that’s…vodka."

"Sure is." I looked out to the garden, fighting down all the sick feelings swirling together. The vodka hadn’t dimmed them at all. It amplified them. Made them too powerful to ignore. "Ryan, I’m so sorry." I couldn’t look at him. Not at those dark honey eyes. "I—I feel sick, I’m going to head out. I’m sorry."

"You feel sick?" Ryan held up his hand, hovering close to me.

"Yeah—"

"Do you need…what do you need?"

"I—I need to go home." It hurt worse than I thought to lie to him but it did and I had to push through it. "Stay here. Have fun. I’m going to walk."

"You’re not walking."

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