Page 54 of Heart of Thorns

The girl and the idea.

I just need to keep reminding myself that none of this is real. Briar and I are faking a relationship—of which we haven’t had much public-facing time yet, minus the pizzeria—and that means faking glances and pointed looks and touches. It means notreallyreacting when her hand brushes mine or my fingers wrap around her calf to help her stretch in the weight room…

Even when my whole body buzzes at the contact.

I hate it.

“This is a bad idea,” Rhys finally mutters. “Are you sure about this?”

I roll my eyes, but I’m far enough ahead that he doesn’t catch it. Of course I’msure, but my plan is flimsy at best.

What started as a simple inquiry with Aaron Westin, my center, turned into a full-blown online investigation. I didn’tthink I’d be sitting with my coffee at the kitchen table this morning, leaning over his shoulder while he showed me all the drama on social media that I apparently missed.

There was a lot of chatter about Briar a few months ago…

My stomach twists.

I didn’t want to read it, but Aaron looked me dead in the eye and said I should know what I was getting into with her. He backtracked, saying she was lovely at dinner the other night, but people are going totalk.

What the fuck do I care?

I’m not saying my reputation is untouchable. No—judging by first, the love Briar garnered on the hockey team, then the way the court of public opinion reversed on her after her injury… no one is untouchable.

I just don’t wantpublic opinionto dictate who I date.

Fake date.

What-fucking-ever.

It’s fake, yes, but the hurt in her eyes when she admitted that my teammate cheated on her?

That was as real as it gets.

“Did she ask you to do this?” Rhys jogs a few steps to catch up and grabs my arm. “Don’t fall for her manipulation?—”

“Do not.” I shake off his grip. “She wouldn’t ask this of me.”

And I’m doing it anyway.

I reach the right door and stop dead. Through the narrow vertical window in the wooden door, I can see the students in class.

There’s Briar, her head down over a notebook, her pen scribbling furiously. And farther back, her ex.

The cheating snake.

The time ticks closer to the top of the hour, and finally, the professor releases his class. Briar doesn’t rise when the rest of the class does. Everyone seems to scramble to put their laptopsback in their bags, to pack up and hurry out, while she moves much more methodically.

“Grab him when he leaves,” I say over my shoulder.

Rhys groans.

I cut through the tide of students exiting and slip up the aisle. I lost sight of Ben, but he was one of the ones packing in a hurry. Somehow, sticking around to be the last one out of the room doesn’t seem like something he’d have the patience for.

Did he rush her after the accident, too?

Or did he just stop giving a fuck entirely and leave without her?

I force my jaw to unclench and drop into the chair in front of her.

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