Page 61 of Play Fake
I tell myself it doesn’t mean anything. That it can’t.
But some part of me knows I might already be in trouble.
20
BECK
The bass from downstairs thumps through the walls of my room, rattling the empty Gatorade bottle on my desk. I told myself I wasn’t going to the party—not tonight, not when my body still feels like it’s fighting me every step.
But staying upstairs doesn’t exactly keep me from hearing every laugh, every shouted lyric, and every door slamming too hard.
I’m sitting on the edge of my bed when the knock comes.
Before I can answer, Logan pushes in, his voice pitched lower than usual. “I know you’re not feeling great, but you might want to come downstairs.”
I frown. “Not really in the mood for a crowd.”
“Yeah, well,” Logan says, leaning against the doorframe. “Sophie doesn’t look like she’s in the mood for Zach Pierce either. But he’s down there right now, running his mouth.”
That gets me on my feet before I’ve even thought it through. My legs are moving down the stairs, right into the heat and the haze of the party, before my brain catches up.
Logan wasn’t exaggerating.
When I hit the bottom step, Zach’s standing way too close, words slurred with that fake confidence he wears like cologne. Sophie’s arms are crossed, chin tipped up, but I can see it—her jaw is tight and her shoulders are stiff.
“I don’t know why you keep pretending,” Zach says, his voice just loud enough to draw stares. “We both know this thing with him is a joke. You and me—we made sense. Wefit.”
Sophie’s glare could cut glass. “We didn’t fit, Zach. You treated me like an accessory, not a person.”
He scoffs, leaning in closer. “And what, you think Harrison here is better? Guy’s not even gonna last a season before he washes out.”
My teeth clench, but I don’t move, as Sophie straightens her spine and fires back first.
“Maybe he’s better because he listens. Because he doesn’t need to tear me down to feel important.”
That’s when Zach finally notices me. His smirk falters, then twists into something nastier. “Oh, speak of the devil. You hear that, Harrison? She thinks you’re her knight in shining armor.”
My chest heats, but I stay still, eyes locked on Sophie’s. Wordless, I let her choose.
And she does. She turns, stepping straight into me, her arms circling my middle. My hand finds her back without thinking, steadying her against me.
Zach’s sneer deepens, but I finally step closer, close enough that Sophie is tucked completely against me. The contact sends a swoop through my gut, but I keep my tone calm.
“Here’s how this works, Pierce.” My voice cuts low, even over the music. “You don’t talk to her like that. You don’t look at her like that. You don’t even come near her again.”
He laughs, but it’s hollow. “What are you gonna do, Harrison?”
My jaw ticks, but I don’t rise to it. Instead, I shift just enough to press Sophie closer into me, my hand firm against her side. “What I’m gonna do is make sure you understand one thing. She’s not yours to bother anymore. And if you can’t respect that, then you’ll answer to me.”
Zach’s eyes narrow. For a beat, it looks like he’ll push it. But then his gaze flicks between Sophie pressed tight against me and the way I’m standing behind her, protective.Possessive.
He mutters something under his breath and shoves past, disappearing into the crowd.
The air between us feels electric, my pulse hammering. I lower my head, voice just for her. “Let’s go upstairs.”
Her head tilts up toward me, eyes wide, searching. For half a second, the noise of the party swells around us—music, laughter, the scrape of a chair—none of it touching the quiet thread that hums between us.
Then she nods. Just once.
