Page 62 of Play Fake
That’s all I need.
I slide my hand down, finding hers. Our fingers lace easily, like they’ve been waiting to, and I don’t let go. Not when I lead her through the crowded living room. Not when people’s heads turn to follow us. Especially not when Logan catches my eye from across the way, a slow grin tugging at his mouth as he clocks what’s happening.
The stairs creak under our steps, but she stays close, her hand so small in mine, like we’re in this together.
By the time we reach the top landing, my pulse is still hammering and my chest is tight—but it’s not from anger over the disrespect Zach throws at Sophie.
It’s from the way she trusts me to lead her out of the mess, no questions asked.
We sidestep a couple of guys roughhousing near the landing. I push open the last door on the right and let her step in first.
Sophie glances around—bed neatly made, books stacked on the desk, cleats tucked under the chair. Nothing fancy, but it’s mine.
She turns back, brows lifting. “Wait…this is your room? You live here?”
Her surprise makes me shift my weight, suddenly self-conscious in a way I’m not used to. I rub the back of my neck. “Yeah. About that…”
Her head tilts, waiting.
“I didn’t exactly lie,” I say slowly. “Well, kind of. When I told you I’d walk you back to your dorm that first night…it wasn’t really on the way. And the second time at the party…” I exhale through my nose. “I just didn’t want you walking alone.”
Her expression softens, something flickering in her eyes that makes my stomach clench.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she says quietly.
“I know.” I shrug, trying to keep it casual, even though my pulse won’t settle. “But I wanted to.”
For a second, neither of us moves. The noise from the party downstairs feels miles away, and all I can think about is how close she’s standing in my room, looking at me like she sees more than I usually let people see.
She lingers for a second, like she’s not sure if we’re really leaving.
“C’mon. I’ll take you home.” I grab my keys off the desk, sliding them into my pocket, then nod toward the door. “I’d say I’d walk you, but I’m still not feeling great and honestly, I don’t want to walk that much more today.”
We head back down the stairs, the music thumping louder with every step. Logan’s leaning against the kitchen counter when we pass through, a red Solo cup in hand. His brows shoot up when he sees us together.
“Heading out already?” he asks, a little too casually.
“Yeah,” I say, steering Sophie toward the door. “She’s got an early morning.”
Logan smirks into his cup, eyes bouncing between us. “Right. Early morning.”
I shoot him a look that makes him hold his hands up in mock surrender, still grinning. Sophie ducks her head, but I don’t miss the way her lips twitch like she’s fighting a smile.
Outside, the night air is cool, a relief after the heat of the party. We walk side by side to my truck, the noise of the house fading behind us. I open the passenger door for her, waiting until she climbs in before shutting it and circling around to the driver’s side.
The ride is silent but comfortable. The kind of quiet that doesn’t demand to be filled.
When I pull into the lot, I kill the engine and climb out, dropping the tailgate. She hesitates before following, perching beside me in the cool night air.
“Sit with me for a minute,” I say, nodding to the empty space beside me.
She does, tucking her legs up, hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands. For a while, we just sit there.
Finally, I clear my throat. “About earlier…Zach’s not gonna stop unless he thinks he can’t get to you. And you don’t need that kind of stress.”
Her lips press together, eyes flicking toward me. “So what, we just keep pretending? My parents, Zach, whoever else decides to stick their nose in either of our business?”
I lean back on my hands, staring out across the parking lot. “Could work both ways.”
