Page 46 of Play Fake
Zach.
Of course.
He doesn’t hesitate, just strides right for us, smirk locked in place. “Well, well. Didn’t think I’d see you slumming it in the café, Soph.”
Her fingers tighten around her cup. “Go away, Zach.”
He ignores her, gaze sliding to me. “What’s this? Trading up already? Or just trying to make me jealous?”
The café goes quiet, too many ears pricking at once. I feel her tense, panic rising off her like heat.
So I shift—not toward him, not to rise. Just enough to angle toward her. My eyes meet hers.
Your call, I tell her without a word.I’ll follow your lead.
Zach smirks sharper, leaning in. “You know, your mom stopped by my place Monday. Told me you’d moved on. Got yourself a new boyfriend. Funny thing, though—I hadn’t heard a word. Until now.” His gaze drags back to me, slow and deliberate. “So this the guy? Really? From the party at the football house?”
I don’t flinch. Just keep my eyes on Sophie, giving her the choice.
Her throat works once. Then, with a confident tone to her voice, she replies, “Yes. Beck’s my boyfriend.”
Zach laughs, sharp and ugly. “You’re kidding me.”
She doesn’t budge. “No. I’m not.”
Something flickers in his expression—like he didn’t expect her to hold ground. His jaw ticks. He looks at me again, waiting for me to crack, but I just sit there, calm and unreadable.
“Guess mommy dearest wasn’t lying after all,” he mutters, voice bitter. Then, louder, “Enjoy the charity case while it lasts, Soph.”
The words sting, but I don’t move. Don’t let them touch me. Don’t let him see an inch of reaction. If he wants a rise, he won’t get it here.
He finally straightens, smirk back in place. “See you around.”
When he’s gone, the café fills with noise again. But Sophie remains stiff, her fingers trembling around her cup.
“I’m sorry,” she blurts, eyes fixed on the swirl of her coffee. “I didn’t mean for this to spiral. First my parents, now Zach—you didn’t sign up for any of this, and I keep dragging you in deeper.”
I lean forward, bracing my arms on the table, catching her eyes. “You don’t owe me an apology.”
She blinks. “But?—”
“You were standing your ground. He pushed, and you handled it. I just happened to be sitting here.”
Her brow furrows, like she doesn’t quite believe me. I shake my head. “Look, Sophie, if pretending I’m your boyfriend keeps people like that off your back?” My mouth quirks just slightly. “I can deal with it. It’s not the end of the world.”
The tightness in her face softens, just barely.
“You make it sound easy,” she whispers.
“Sometimes it is.”
I let the silence stretch a moment, then tip the corner of my mouth up. “Besides…I told you before. Wakes me up better than coffee.”
It takes her a second, then she laughs—surprised but real. The sound makes something in me pause.
“You’re ridiculous,” she says, shaking her head.
“Maybe.” I lean back, grin tugging deeper. “But you’re not apologizing anymore, are you?”
