Page 38 of Once Upon a Fake Date

He shook his head, a ghost of a smile forming on his lips. “My first lacrosse game is Saturday.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I know.” I’d written his games down on my planner at the beginning of the semester after he’d asked me to go. That was what best friends did, after all—they supported each other. “I’ll be there.”

But Parker just gave me a sheepish look. “We’re having a party afterward at the house. To celebrate the start of the season.”

“But what if you lose?” I wrinkled my nose in confusion.

“Rosie.” He pinned me with a stare that made me feel things I shouldnotbe feeling. “They’re horny college athletes. Do you think they care if they win?”

“Oh.” They probably just wanted to get drunk and hook up with girls. “I guess not.”

I tried not to think about Parker likethat,too. If he fell into the same category. Was I keeping him from being with someone? Sure, we’d gotten dinner a bunch of times last semester, but it wasn’t like I was with him every waking moment.

And yet, the idea of sharing him, of him sleeping with anyone else, made me lose my appetite.

“Will you come with me?” Parker finally asked, and I looked back at him to see him anxiously watching me. Those amber eyes bore into mine, and I knew my answer before it left my lips.

I bit my lip. “It would only make sense that your girlfriend was there, right?”

“Right.” He gave a nod, like the matter was settled.

I cleared my throat. “You know… if there was someone else you wanted to, um…”

“Hook up with?” Parker finished my sentence for me, looking surprisingly indifferent. “There’s not.” He shrugged.

“But if there is?”

“There won’t be, Rosie Girl. Not for me. And while we’re doing this, I won’t even look at another woman, okay?”

That settled my nerves. I dipped my head, liking the sound of that.

He wasn’t mine, not really, but while we were faking it, at least I could pretend he was.

“I’ll be there,” I offered.

Parker seemed to relax. “Thank you.” He pressed a kiss to my cheek.

Like he was grateful for me, even though I was the one who needed to thank him.

There wasone thing I knew for certain: I hadnofreaking clue how lacrosse worked. Still, the energy on the field was fun. And more than anything, I liked cheering on my boyfriend, even if it was all fake.

I stood in the student section, surrounded by hundreds of other Castleton University students, all cheering on our men’s team. It was the home opener and their first game of the season.

And maybe this fake dating thing was still new, but I wanted to be here to support Parker. Either way, I’d promised him I would be here as his best friend. So I was determined to be the best damn girlfriend I could be.

I’d pulled on my favorite Castleton University sweatshirt and a pair of jeans that had bows embroidered on the pockets. They also made my ass lookgreat,though that wasn’t the reason I’d put them on. Well, notentirely. My hair was up in a ponytail, tied back with my favorite pink scrunchie.

Thankfully, he was easy to spot. Although I probably would have recognized him anywhere, regardless of his last name sprawled over the back of his white jersey, along with the number 59 in light blue. There was just something about his presence. He was tall at six foot three inches, towering over me even when I had heels on. Thanks to the short-sleeved jersey, his arm muscles were visible, and those biceps were on full display.

Damn, he looked good.

For once, I was out of my element. Though I knew plenty of the students surrounding me—it wasn’t that big of a school, and I was a naturally extroverted person, making friends easily—it was my first time at a sporting event. Would it be that obvious?

Parker had played sports even when we were younger, in middle school, but I’d had so many of my own activities back then that I’d never gone. Dance classes, vocal lessons, and even learning how to play piano. Sometimes I wondered if I’d done too much. If I hadn’t sat back and really enjoyed life.

Even now, my whole life was theater. I lived and breathed it.

Until Parker, I hadn’t taken much time for myself. He didn’t know how much our dinners meant to me. That it was the only time I felt like I could just be me instead of worrying about smiling and being the person everyone expected of me.

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