Page 50 of Starstruck

Oh.

I pull my head back and shake it, trying to register her words.“What?”

She caught her breath as she repeated herself. “I think we should date. Fake date but still—”

I meet her gaze, her eyes more serious than I’ve ever seen, cheeksflushed like she’d sprinted here just to ask me that. My hands lift in a slow, exaggerated flail. “I’m gonna need some context here, Golds.”

She nodded back at me before sitting where I just had on the edgeof the fountain, claiming the spot next to her a second later.

“I’ve not stopped thinking about what happened last night—aboutwhen you got those guys to leave because you told them I was your girlfriend. It worked, right? It got them to leave me alone.”

I don’t take my eyes off her as I drawl, “Righttt.”

“Well, what if the same thing could happen for you?” She caught herbreath, her eyes casting ahead of her. “What if… what if we walk around here and make it obvious that we are dating, then surely everyone will leave you alone. No more random groping and constant interruption.” Her bright smile glowed in the sunlight that dazzled the glass that made up the walls, as she set her eyes back on me. “You’d be left alone, Tristan.”

Two thoughts crossed my mind when her lips closed.

One: I was happy she was okay. Her regular, happy self.

Two: What the fuck was I supposed to say to that?

What she was saying, what she was proposing, was only becomingclearer the more she talked. And if I wasn’t lying to every single person who was sitting at that table last night, if I was eager to leave… it would have made sense.

But this was insane.

“So, you want me to fake date you, so that everyone will leave mealone?” I asked her, intrigue furrowing my brows. “Why can’t I just tell them to fuck off?”

She blew a laugh out of her mouth. “Well, for one, that’s rude.Effective, but rude. And who’s to say that those girls might not get off on that? You know, the whole treat 'em mean thing?” I weighed up her words in my mind before she carried on. “And two, you practicallydidsay that to Becca, but I still see the way she stares at you like you’re her next meal.”

She pulled her head back and smiled as she began to pace in front of me. “Pretending you’re with me, it’sperfect. Just hold my hand or show me off, and these girls will leave you alone for good, and you can focus on getting out of here, going back home, just like you want to.”

Getting out of here.

Going back home.

Just like you want to.

For the first time since I’d landed here, I caught myself slipping. I’d let my guard down without even noticing.

It was easy to get lost in it—the banter, the late-night runs for food with the lads, the shared looks over inside jokes that only made sense to us. Somewhere along the way, I’d stopped thinking about the mask I was supposed to wear, forgetting the reasons I’d put it on in the first place.

And then there was Goldie. With her, it felt like I was already the person I wanted to find, someone who didn’t have to play a part. She’d laugh at something stupid I said, or give me that sideways look when she caught me staring, and suddenly everything else—the lies, the act, my past—just faded.

But now, in a rare quiet moment, it all came rushing back. Trust meant opening up. Attachments meant risking someone seeing too much. And with Goldie in the mix, I’d let myself forget that secrets, especially mine, were worth more than a few laughs or stolen moments.

I shook my head, desperate for something—*anything*—to say that might drag me out of my own thoughts. “Is this your clever little way of getting close to me because you secretly fancy me?”

Her eyes went wide, the sunlight catching her face as she practically choked. “What? No! Oh my God, no!”

I couldn’t help but laugh, a proper belly laugh. “Alright, calm down! No need to make it sound like being with me would be the end of civilisation as we know it.”

“No, I just mean…” She thought over her words for a second,before scooting around to face me. “No, no, you’re my friend, Tristan. I care about you, and you being here is not what you want so… let me help you.”

Friends.We were friends.

Part of me was thrilled. And yet, another part of me was tangled inconfusion, trying to make sense of it all—wondering what it meant that I couldn’t quite convince myself that what was pulling me toward this girl was just friendship.

Before I could let my thoughts suck me back into their ragingcurrent, her eyes stopped roaming and found mine, holding them as delicately as she could.

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