Page 3 of From Fake Dates to Forever Goals

Embarrassment washes over me. Not only am I stuck facing him, but the fact that we’re in the same room is a cruel twist of fate.

Sebastian Kane. One of the best soccer players in the world. I’d know—my father is his coach.

At 5’8”, I’ve never felt small, but standing next to his 6’4” frame makes me feel downright tiny. He smirks, a cocky, obnoxious grin that lights up his deep brown eyes. For a fleeting second, I find myself captivated.

Damn it, Ava, don’t fall for it.

There’s no denying he’s attractive—his perfectly straight teeth, kissable lips, and those cursed dimples that could charm the devil himself. If I didn’t know his reputation as a serial dater, I might’ve fallen hard.

Now, up close, his sculpted physique is impossible to ignore. He casually stretches, flexing his muscles, and I catch myself staring.

Stop. Looking. Ava.

I tear my gaze away and focus on the stage, desperate to clear my head. But the tabloids’ headlines about Sebastian flood my thoughts: “Too Hot to Handle,” “Soccer’s Sexiest Bachelor.” Every week, a new woman. Every week, a new breakup.

Typical.

Rubin McNeal finishes his speech, and music fills the room. Couples begin pairing off, swaying to the rhythm.

Before I can take a step, Sebastian smirks and moves closer.

“Oh no. There is no way I’m—”

Before I finish objecting, his hand grips my waist, pulling me onto the makeshift dance floor. His confident movements steer both of us effortlessly.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a terrible dancer?” he teases, his tone laced with amusement.

I raise an eyebrow. “Has anyone ever told you how ridiculous you look right now?”

He actually dances well—too well—but there’s no way I’m feeding his ego. My face remains set in an unimpressed scowl, though I silently count the seconds until the song ends.

Finally, it does, and Sebastian disappears into the crowd without another word. Good riddance.

Now, my focus shifts back to Rubin McNeal. He’s standing in the center of the room with his wife, Penny, radiant as ever. I weave through the throng, determined to catch him.

But, as if the universe is out to get me, Sebastian reappears, cutting me off.

Rubin and Sebastian strike up a conversation, and I’m forced to wait. I tap my foot, glancing at my watch. Minutes turn into an hour, and still, Sebastian monopolizes Rubin’s attention.

My stomach growls as I eye the dinner table, but I can’t risk leaving. When I finally glance back at Rubin, panic grips me. Both he and Sebastian are gone.

Frustrated, I move through the crowd, searching desperately. An employee passes by, and I grab his attention.

“Excuse me, do you know where I can find Mr. Rubin McNeal?”

He smiles politely and points toward the exit.

I rush outside just in time to see Rubin’s car pulling out of the parking lot. My heart sinks.

All my preparation, all my hard work—ruined. And the person responsible? None other than Sebastian Kane.

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Sebastian

“This is what men my age do,” I mutter, tossing the magazine aside.

Jimmy’s laughter echoes down the corridor, loud and relentless.

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