Page 59 of Faking It with the Bad Boy

"Maybe. If you're ready for the team to know the truth about their captain's hidden talents."

"Maybe I'm tired of hiding."

The next week brought changes no one could have predicted. Jack's locker sprouted medical texts alongside playbooks. His signature motorcycle now had custom saddlebags designed specifically for transporting rare books. The team's study room gained a section dedicated to sports medicine history, complete with those creepy surgical diagrams Mike had requested.

I was cataloging new acquisitions when Dex found me, her expression somewhere between amused and accusatory.

"So," she said, perching on my desk. "My brother just spent thirty minutes explaining Victorian medical practices to his entire team. Using diagrams. And proper terminology. And historical references."

"Did he?"

"Don't play innocent. I recognize your organizational influence. Those charts were color-coded."

I didn’t want to think about how he may have appeared while explaining amputation techniques to fascinated hockey players, including Mike’s “creepy” diagrams.

"The team seems interested," I said carefully.

"Interested? They're obsessed! Mike is writing a history paper on nineteenth-century sports injuries. Tommy's started collecting antique medical equipment. Even Coach is talking about incorporating historical perspectives into training sessions."

Through the window, I could see the team gathered around Jack as he demonstrated something from an old surgical manual. His reading glasses were on, his hands moving animatedly as he explained, all pretense of the disinterested bad boy forgotten.

"He's different with you," Dex said softly.

"He's just being himself."

"Finally." She smiled. "You know, he used to hide his books under the bed when teammates came over. Now he's got first editions displayed in his locker like trophies."

"The team's accepting it well?"

"Are you kidding? They think it's amazing. 'Our captain's not just a hockey god. He's a secret genius!' Direct quote from Mike, by the way. Though I think they're mostly excited about using Victorian medical diagrams as intimidation tactics against other teams."

I laughed despite myself. "Of course they are."

"Sophie." Dex's voice turned serious. "I've never seen him like this. So, comfortable being himself. Even Mom says he's different. Happier."

"I'm not—"

"The one who made him feel safe enough to be real? Pretty sure you are."

Before I could respond, Jack appeared in the doorway, slightly out of breath like he'd rushed over.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I need expert opinion." His eyes were bright with excitement. "Found this medical text at that weird bookshop. The binding suggests the 1840s, but the publication date—" He stopped, noticing Dex. "Oh. Hi."

"Don't let me interrupt your book nerd moment," Dex grinned, sliding off my desk. "Just remember practice is in twenty minutes. Try not to get too distracted by Victorian medicine."

After she left, Jack moved closer, carefully placing the book on my desk. "The watermarks are consistent with the period, but look at this illustration style..."

I watched him explain his findings, all careful research and genuine enthusiasm. No masks, no pretense, no roles to play. Just Jack, who was passionate about books and history and sharing discoveries.

"What?" he asked, catching my look.

"Nothing. Just that you're good at this. The research, the preservation techniques, and the historical context. It's not just memorization. You truly understand it."

"Almost like I genuinely care about these things," he teased. Then, softer: "Almost like I'm not pretending."

The moment stretched between us, full of possibilities and unspoken truths.

The team found us like that, surrounded by books and shared understanding. They piled into my office with their usual lack of grace, but their questions were surprisingly thoughtful.

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