Page 41 of The Quarterback Sneak

Leaning back against the wall, I close my eyes and run a hand across my face.

How the hell am I going to convince my fake boyfriend he needs to come and meet my parents for real?

Chapter Fourteen

Honey

With one foot kicked up behind him against the red brick, Zach stares down at his phone, waiting for me outside the school. Still wet from his shower, his blond hair is a couple of shades darker.

Skipping up the steps to the front of the school, I ignore the eyes on me because I’m used to them at this point. He still hasn’t noticed, too engrossed with something on his phone, so I silently edge toward him.

When our toes are touching, his head pops up, and I’m greeted by his usual bright smile, making my stomach do that flip-flop thing again.

Stop it, Honey.

“Hey, Chipmunk.” Zach leans down, kissing me hard on the lips, then snakes his arm around my body until his hand rests on my hip. I close my eyes, ignoring the fact my stomach won’t stop flipping because his fingers are thrumming against my side. I should be used to his touch. We’ve kissed for show a couple of times now, but I just can’t get used to it. I put it down to being nervous over our believability. Our whole lie hinges on melooking like I enjoy his touch, and I’m worried it’s becoming a little too believable.

The subtle red tinge of my lipstick is smeared across his full lips, and I rub my thumb across his lips until it’s disappeared. When I’m done, I wipe my hand across my jeans, refusing to look at Zach because that little touch alone sent tingles down my spine.

“Everything okay?” he asks with the subtlest of hesitancy in his voice.

“I’m good.” I gulp and rest my forehead against his chest. Should I ask him to come to dinner with my parents or pretend that conversation never happened? I spent the last twelve hours trying to think of a way to ask him that didn’t sound awkward or desperate, but I’m still coming up empty.

Zach clasps my arms and pushes me away so I’m looking directly into his eyes. His brilliantly green eyes that look like a mossy forest. “Come on, Goof.” His smile brightens his face as he shakes me a little. “I can tell there’s something on your mind.” His fingers squeeze my arms a little tighter when I don’t answer straight away.

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. You’re tense. Your shoulders are tight, and your back is straighter than my number two pencil. What’s up?”

I laugh wistfully, forcing my gaze to my shoes. “My parents want to meet you.” It comes out as a mumble, and I cringe. Why am I so awkward?

“What was that, Sugarplum?”

I roll my eyes and look up at the sky. “Are you going to make me say it again?”

“I promise, I didn’t hear you the first time.”

“My parents. They want to meet you.” There, I said it loud and clear, and it felt like ripping a Band-Aid off.

Zach is silent, so I check his reaction. Wide eyes with furrowed brows, he stares at me. “They want to meet me? Why?”

“Because you and I have become the talk of my mother’s country club, and they said the only way we would be allowed to keep dating is if they met you.”

His fingers loosen and his jaw tightens. I can’t tell what he’s thinking, but I know it’s not good, and I shouldn’t have mentioned it. I should have just put it off for as long as possible. Who knows, maybe my mother will have forgotten in a week… Fat chance of that happening.

“No.”

That’s it. The one word that falls out of his mouth before he slams it shut. A short, thought-through statement that crushes me to my core. We’re fake. I know that has always been the intention, but hearing him brush me off so easily still feels like an overwhelming rejection.

Shaking my head, I step back so there’s just enough space between us that his woody scent isn’t clouding my thoughts. “You’re right. It was stupid of me to ask.” I try to smile, playing it off as though my insides haven’t just crumbled to dust and any remainder of dignity I have left didn’t just leave me. How pathetic am I? I can’t even get my fake boyfriend to come and have one measly dinner with me. My face heats, but I hope to God Zach hasn’t noticed. “Shall we go to class?”

As I try to walk past him, he grips my shoulder. “Hey, I’m sorry if I upset you.” I take in a deep breath, inadvertently making it sound like a sniffle, and Zach’s face softens. “It’s just that our agreement was to fake date at school. I didn’t really anticipate having to do anything other than that. Besides, if we start adding parents and our home lives into this, I think it could potentially mess everything up.” Zach’s sister’s eager face poking out of the curtains comes to mind. He’s hiding something he doesn’t wantme to know about; we both know it, but I’m not about to ask him.

“Of course. I completely agree.” I thumb the straps of my bag and don’t make eye contact. “My parents caught me off guard with their request last night. I had no idea our shenanigans were even known about, let alone the talk of the country club.” I wave my hand and walk toward class. Zach’s arm stays glued around my shoulder, even though the tension is thick in the air. “You know what? I can just stall my parents and tell them you’re busy until the end of the football season. By then, we’ll be done with this fake dating and can have some dramatic breakup.”

“Oh yeah? How are you going to break up with me?” He waggles his eyebrows, and it makes me giggle.

“What makes you think I’m going to be the one to break us up?”

---