Page 154 of The Fake Date Agreement

“That isn’t good enough,” I growl.

Hurt fills her eyes.

I sigh. “That’s not what I mean.Youare doing plenty. And I’m guessing you’ve been doing it for a while?”

She chews her lip and nods. “Whenever I could without making you suspicious.”

“But I haven’t been doing enough,” I say.

“Neither have I,” Javier adds.

I study her for a beat. “I know we agreed to help you get revenge on your ex. It’s why we’re here in the first place. But?—”

She puts her beer down on a dresser. “Reid needs help, and I’d rather be helping him than getting revenge on Marc.”

It gets harder every day to remember what my life was like before Tobie entered it.

We’re at Reid’s door fifteen minutes later.

I bang on the door as Tobie and Javier wait beside me. “Open up, Pollyanna!”

It’s hard to miss the sound of wrinkling paper, a soft thump, and a muttered curse before the door swings open to reveal a frazzled-looking Reid wearing sweats. “I was just about to get ready for the party. Give me?—”

“You’re an idiot,” I snarl.

“I was coming to the party, but?—”

I barge past him, spot the bulge under his comforter, and stalk over to his bed, ignoring his attempts to distract me.

I whip the sheets back to reveal a jumble of books and notepads.

I point at it. “Thatis why you’re an idiot. Why the fuck didn’t you tell us about the paper? We’d have helped you.”

Reid’s gaze slides to Tobie, and she shuffles from foot to foot, her expression sheepish.

“I’m sorry, Reid. I know you told me not to say anything, but?—”

“She’s a terrible liar,” Javier interrupts. “You should have said something.”

Reid crosses over to his desk, slumping into the seat and raking a hand through his hair. “I have it under control.”

“If you did, you wouldn’t be hiding this.” I lift my hand before he can speak. “When was the last time you ate?”

His stomach rumbles.

Sighing, I pull my phone from my pocket. “I’m calling for takeout. We’re going to eat… you more than us, and we’re going to work on this paper together. We’ll pull an all-nighter if necessary.”

I bring up a food delivery app and start selecting dishes. Chinese takeout is Reid’s favorite, so that’s what we’re eating. Then I remember Tobie’s thyroid disease. “Tobie, I’m ordering Chinese. Is there anything you can’t eat? I can order you something else if you want?”

She smiles faintly. “It’s okay. The occasional takeout is fine.”

“But we have practice tomorrow morning,” Reid reminds me as I finish ordering and slip my phone back into my pocket.

I take in my teammate’s tired eyes and slumped shoulders and I ask myself what else I’ve been missing. I’m supposed to be his friend, not just his captain. I should have been looking out for him. Instead, I’ve been making everything about me.

Just like Dad.

I need to do better.

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