Page 23 of A Game of Ruck
And my heart?Yeah, that thing is off somewhere doing cartwheels in the sand wearing a “Team Luca” T-shirt and shoutingwe’re in love!
Which is ridiculous.
Because this?This isn’t real.
None of it is.
Not the kiss.
Not the way his fingers curled around my waist like I belonged to him.
Not the way he looked at me like I was something special—not just the awkward, plus-size tech heiress tagging along like an extra in someone else’s romance novel.
Now we’re on our way to board a boat.With them.
The bridal vipers.Lisa and her minions, Brittany, Courtney, and Jasmine.Who all witnessed the kiss and are now pretending they don’t care while simultaneously dying to dissect every second of it in their group chat calledFamily FirstorMartinez Royaltyor whatever dumb name they picked this week.
And I?
I wish we weren’t doing any of this.
I wish we were back in our ridiculously nice hotel room with the ocean view and the soft lighting and the bed that I know—know—would be a hundred times more exciting if Luca and I weren’t pretending.
I wish we were staying behind so we could take that kiss a step further.
Or maybe ten steps further.
Because something happened.
I don’t know what, but that wasn’t pretend.
At least it didn’tfeellike pretend.
And now I’m spiraling.
Because if I’m catching feelings for the man I bought at an auction and asked to fake-date me for a weekend, I might actually be the dumbest smart girl in the hemisphere.
I sneak a glance at him as he chats casually with one of the groomsmen.
Effortlessly cool.Slightly smug.Maddeningly handsome.
He looks like he belongs here.
Like he’shaving fun.
Meanwhile, I’m internally screaming and trying not to replay the kiss like I’m analyzing game footage.
Focus, Annabeth.
This is all just theater.
A perfect performance.
He’s a hot guy doing his job.
I’m not falling for him.
I’m not.
