Page 64 of Fake Game

There’s a hollowness in the words he speaks that catches me off guard. He’s normally so gravelly and growly that hearing themisery-laden words causes my chest to clench. I chance a glance over at him and see the way the skin tightens around his distant gaze. I pull my lower lip between my teeth.

I don’t want him to feel this way.

“Hey.” I reach over and poke his bicep with my freshly pointed nail. “Hey, come on. I’m…I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“Because your aunt overheard what I said.”

“You only said that because I pulled you into this last night. That was my decision, not yours. I only have myself to blame.”

The mood of the car is becoming drenched in depression, a heaviness cloying the air with thick disappointment.

Before I can second-guess myself, I curl my hand around his bicep. His taut muscles are massive beneath my small hands. I give a light squeeze, and Jackson finally tears his eyes away from the window to look at me.

“Let me help you.”

“Deer, I don’t—”

“I’m serious.” I scoot myself over onto the middle seat. “Consider it a repayment for you helping me, for letting me crash at the apartment and stay in your room…and also for finishing off all the sour candies in the pantry.”

“You ate all our sour candy?”

“Jackson.”

His eyes swirl as his name leaves my lips, but just as quick, they steel up. “This isn’t your responsibility, Deer. I can handle it on my own.”

“Weren’t you the one preaching to me about not being a hero? About letting people help lighten the load so you don’t become crushed by the weight?”

“Why do you have such a good memory?” he tsks.

“Come on, trust me. I’ve got this. I’ll be the best fake girlfriend you’ve ever seen.”

“If this doesn’t work…”

“It will.”

“But if it doesn’t, I’m going to get caught up in another lie.” Conflict wars in his eyes. “My family will never forgive me. I don’t know if I can risk that—I can’t risk that.”

I reach up and rest the palm of my hand against his cheek. That conflict melts away into shock, his lashes fluttering as he stares down at me. My heart turns to a goopy mess, dripping as I gaze at the man who has always been a pillar of stoic strength but is beginning to crack.

I want to make his struggle disappear.

I want to pull him into a hug.

I want…I want to kiss him.

Shit.

I force a smile onto my face.

“It’s up to you. Whatever you’re comfortable with, I’ll support that. But just know that if you need me to, I’ll fake girlfriend so hard, even our friends will wonder what’s fake and what’s real.”

I peel my hand away even though it’s hard and shuffle back to my side of the car. Jackson doesn’t say anything else, so I just stare out the window, watching cars and palm trees pass us by in a gray tint.

The air in the vehicle is still marked with uncertainty, and I begin to spiral, worried that I totally put my foot in my mouth.

It’s only when we pull into the garage under the apartment complex that he speaks again. It’s one word spoken so low that it causes my skin to prickle as it rolls over me.

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