Page 51 of Once Upon a Fake Date

“Fakegirlfriend,” I reminded him.

He gave me a stare that I felt straight down to my toes. “No one else knows that though, do they? Wear it to the next game. Please.”

This felt like more than that, though. Like it meant something. Him giving me his jersey felt…special.

I dipped my head in agreement. No one else knew this was fake.

And part of me wanted to wear his jersey to the next game. Wanted to claim him as mine. Wanted the girls who sat next to me, talking about how much of a catch he was, to know he was off the market.

Because Parker Maxwell was mine. Even if it was just for a little while.

I nibbled on my lip. “Are you sure?”

He tugged a strand of hair, smiling down at me. “Of course I’m sure, Rosie Girl. I want you to wear it.”

“Okay then,” I agreed, hugging the garment to my chest. “I will.” Though I didn’t know why it was so important to him I wore it, I would. He was doing so much for me, and it was such a small thing to do for him.

Leaning across the center console, I pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you.”

He hummed in response. “Anything for you, Audrey.”

I had a feeling that he meant it. That he really would do anything for me.

Hopefully, Parker couldn’t hear how my heart was beating wildly in my chest.

“Want to head back to campus?” he asked, and I just nodded.

It wasn’t like I could tell himno; I want to spend more time with you, just like this.

Because tonight had been perfect. A fairytale of a date that I wanted to remember forever.

I hugged his shirt to my chest, knowing I was going to bury my nose in it tonight because it still smelled like him. Like the clean, crisp scent of his laundry detergent plus the woodsy, smoky smell that always clung to him. He smelled like aman, spicy in all the best ways.

But I couldn’t exactly sniff his shirt in front of him. That would not be very best-friend like. That was firmly crossing the territory into something else. Something that felt real.

And I couldn’t go there.

Not with him.

“Audrey!”a voice shouted behind me, and when I turned, there was my friend Sutton. I hadn’t seen her too much this semester—probably because of our wildly different majors and the fact that I’d been spending most of my time with Parker.

She was a culinary student, and every single thing I’d ever sampled of hers had beenamazing.One day, I wanted to be the first customer in the door when she opened a bakery—wherever it was. Her boyfriend, Forest, was on the baseball team, talking about entering the MLB draft upon graduation.

No matter what else happened, I knew they were going to make it. Because he looked at her like she was his very reason for breathing, and there was nothing in this world that would keep him apart from her.

“Hey, Sutton.” I was quickly pulled into a hug by my friend.

Sutton White was wearing a pair of ripped jeans, an oversized red flannel, and a pair of Doc Marten boots, with her black shoulder length hair curled in loose waves. And while I spent most days doing a full face of makeup, Sutton always looked effortlessly beautiful with eyeliner, just a swipe of mascara and a bold red lip. I was jealous.

Today, I’d worn one of my favorite pink tank-top dresses, with a white turtleneck covered in little tiny roses layered underneath. It was cute and casual, and I’d left my hair down, just curling the ends before doing my normal makeup routine. “How have you been?”

“Good. What about you? Heard you’ve been spending a lot of time with a certain lacrosse player.”

“Not you, too,” I groaned. It had been a couple of days since our date, and it felt like everyone was abuzz with the news of our relationship.

She shrugged. “Athletes talk. Even more than sorority girls do.” Sutton cracked a grin. I tried not to dwell on her words. Of course, the boys did. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if her boyfriend and mine—fake, but whatever—had been in the gym at the same time. Especially since the baseball team and the lacrosse team both had spring seasons.

What I wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall in that locker room…I shook my head to get rid of the thought. There was no part of me that should picture them shirtless and sweaty as they did reps. Even though I wasn’t really picturingthem. There was only one guy who I wanted to see like that.

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