Page 6 of Faking the Rules

Declan stands, pulling me up with him, his hand finding mine with casual possession. "Brady, shut up." But there's no heat in his words. "Guys, this is Ellie. Ellie, these idiots are my teammates. Brady, Tyler, and Mason."

Brady—the blond one—extends his hand. "Pleasure to finally meet the girl who's got our captain so distracted. He won't shut up about you."

The easy lie makes me falter for just a moment before I find my footing in this new role. "All good things, I hope?"

"Mostly how smart you are," Tyler says with a grin. "And how you 'challenge him intellectually,' whatever that means."

Declan's arm slides around my waist, pulling me against his side. "Ignore them. They're just jealous because their combined IQ barely reaches triple digits."

The friendly banter continues, and I find myself relaxing incrementally, allowing Declan's warmth to steady me as I navigate this unfamiliar social territory. His teammates are actually funny, their teasing gentle rather than mean-spirited. They treat me with curious respect, as if my association with Declan has automatically granted me acceptance into their closed circle.

When they eventually leave, extracting promises from Declan about practice schedules and team dinners, he keeps hisarm around me, fingers tracing small, distracting circles against my hip.

"You did good," he says, voice low enough that only I can hear. "They bought it completely."

"I didn't do anything," I point out.

"Exactly. You didn't freeze up or look uncomfortable. You were natural." His smile is genuine, warming his eyes. "We might actually pull this off, Gardner."

The approval in his voice shouldn't matter to me. This is a transaction, nothing more. But I can't deny the small thrill of satisfaction that runs through me at his words.

"Don't get ahead of yourself," I warn, reluctantly stepping out of his embrace. "We've got three weeks to go, and this was the easy part. What's next in this master plan of yours?"

“You’ll go to the party with me at Sigma tonight.”

I open my mouth to protest, but he’s already on to the next thing.

"Hockey game tomorrow night," he says. "Girlfriends always attend home games."

The thought of sitting in the cold arena, surrounded by rowdy fans, is less than appealing. But I did agree to this arrangement. "Fine. But I'm bringing a book."

"Wouldn't expect anything less." His grin is infectious. "I'll leave tickets at will-call. Wear my jersey."

"I don't have your jersey," I point out.

He reaches into his backpack and pulls out a navy and white hockey jersey with "WOLFE" emblazoned across the back. "Now you do."

I take it reluctantly. "This seems excessive."

"Trust me, it's expected. Hockey girlfriends wear their boyfriend's number." He checks his watch. "I've got to get to practice. Walk you to your next class?"

"Not necessary," I say quickly. "I've got research to do in the library."

"Always working." He shakes his head, but there's something like admiration in his expression. "Text me later?"

"About what?"

"Anything." He leans in, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek before I can react. "That's for our audience," he murmurs, then straightens with a wink. "See you tomorrow, Gardner."

As he walks away, I become aware of the eyes following him, then turning curiously to me. The whispers have already started. By nightfall, everyone on campus will know: Declan Wolfe is off the market.

And I, apparently, am his girlfriend.

Chapter 3

“CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!"

The chant reverberates through the crowded fraternity house, the bass from massive speakers making the floorboards vibrate beneath my feet. I press myself further into the corner, clutching a red Solo cup of lukewarm beer I have no intention of drinking.

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