Page 76 of Play Fake
SOPHIE
The villa is quiet now—most of the girls disappeared to their rooms after dinner, stuffed with food and wine. I’m curled up in one of the oversized armchairs by the window, a blanket wrapped around my legs, the vineyard stretched out beyond the glass like a dark ocean.
My phone buzzes in my lap, and the sight of Beck’s name lights something warm in my chest.
Beck: appreciate it, Soph. hope the fancy crowd was impressed.
I bite my lip, smile tugging at my mouth. The truth is…Ididwatch. I had my phone propped up discreetly against the water glass at dinner, one ear tuned to the conversation, the other locked on the live stream. I’d told myself it was just to “check in on the score,” but I’d ended up watching almost the entire second half.
I start typing.
They were impressed. Especially when you sacked the QB.
Beck: told you I’d give you something to watch.
I'm still staring at the screen, my chest feeling weirdly light, when Claire drops down onto the arm of the chair beside me, robe cinched tight, wine glass in hand.
“You’ve got a look on your face,” she says, eyes narrowing with big-sister precision.
“What look?” I ask too quickly.
She gives me thelook, the one she’s had since we were kids. “The smiley, distracted look. Is this about that guy?”
I freeze. “What guy?”
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t play dumb. Mom said something about meeting your football player boyfriend named Beck, Sophie.”
My stomach twists. “What did she say?”
“She made some comment on the phone the other day—‘Sophie seems to be spending time with someone from the team,’” Claire mimics in Mom’s clipped tone, then turns back to me with a grin. “So? Spill. Is it serious now?”
I should lie. Or at least deflect. But her face is all curiosity and softness, not judgment, and somehow Beck’s name slips out before I can stop it. “I mean…I don’t know?”
Claire blinks. “You don’t know?! Oh myGod, Soph.” Her grin widens. “I saw him in one of your game photos last year—he’s gorgeous. Are you two just faking it still or?” She gestures vaguely between us.
I shrug, trying for casual, but my heart’s thudding. “We’ve been…spending time together.”
Her grin softens into something more knowing. “You like him.”
I open my mouth, but nothing coherent comes out.
Claire sits properly next to me now, tucking one leg underneath herself, suddenly serious in that gentle, big-sister way. “Sophie. I’m happy for you if this is something real. Truly. But—” She sets her glass down, eyes locking on mine. “Be careful. I saw what you were like with Zach. You were playing a part. You didn’t love him. Not really. But this…” She nods toward my phone. “You look different.”
Her words land heavier than I expect.
Claire continues softly, “If you’re falling, make sure he’s ready to catch you. Because I don’t want to see you build something real in your heart while he’s just…passing time. College athletes can be complicated.”
I tuck my hair behind my ear, suddenly very interested in the blanket on my lap. “It’s not like that,” I whisper, though even to me, it sounds flimsy.
She reaches out, squeezing my hand. “I just want you to be careful. You’re not the same girl who dated Zach because Mom and Dad said it was what they wanted you to do. If you’re giving someone your heart this time, do it because youwantto—not because you’re caught up in a whirlwind.”
My throat tightens. “Yeah.”
She smiles faintly, standing to head toward her room. “Goodnight, little sis. Try not to stay up all night texting Mr. Linebacker.”
When she’s gone, I stare down at my phone, Beck’s messages still glowing on the screen. And even though I tell myself Claire’s just being protective, the truth is…she’s not wrong.
By the time Monday morning rolls around, I’m practically buzzing. Which is ridiculous. It’s just class. Just Beck.
