Page 85 of Play Fake
It’s not awkward. It’salmost too easy. Like he’s done this before—but not withme.
I shift a little closer, just enough that my side brushes his, testing the waters. He doesn’t move away.
A few minutes later, I shift again, and this time, he adjusts, too, tugging me a fraction nearer without seeming to think about it.
His fingertips start tracing light, absentminded lines up and down my arm where his hand rests, like it’s just something his body decided to do while his eyes stay fixed on the screen.
ButInotice. Every slow glide of his fingers sends a shiver down my spine, goosebumps rising in their wake.
I don’t know if he realizes what he’s doing. He seems so relaxed—his breathing steady, eyes on the laptop, mouth curving when something funny happens on screen.
Meanwhile, my heart islosing it.
I sink a little further into the curve of his arm, letting the warmth of him settle around me. The movie keeps playing, but my focus has shifted completely.
Because this? This feels dangerously good.
The movie winds down into its final act, but neither of us seems to be paying much attention anymore. The light from the laptop flickers across the walls, Snickers is purring somewhere near the foot of the bed, and Beck’s fingertips are still tracing idle lines up and down my arm like it’s second nature.
He shifts slightly beside me, glancing down. “Can I ask you something?”
“Yeah,” I say, my voice softer than I intend.
“What’s your family like?” he asks. There’s no judgment in his tone, just genuine curiosity. “I mean, I’ve met your parents…briefly,” he adds, a corner of his mouth lifting. “But that was kind of…a situation.”
I snort. “Yeah. ‘Situation’ is one way to put it.”
He chuckles, low and warm.
I tuck a stray piece of hair behind my ear, trying to figure out how to answer. “My family’s…complicated. My parents care alotabout appearances. Connections. They wanted me with Zach because it made sense on paper. It was about what it wouldlook likeand what it would do for our family name, not what I wanted.”
Beck doesn’t interrupt. He just listens, his fingers never pausing their soft path up and down my arm. It makes it easier to keep talking.
“My sister Claire’s kind of the golden child. She’s getting married soon, which is why we went to her bachelorette party last weekend.” I smile faintly. “She means well, though. She’s always been there for me.”
He nods, eyes on me now instead of the screen. “Sounds like you two are close.”
“We are,” I say, and it comes out gentle. “She’s my person.”
For a few quiet seconds, it’s just our breathing and the faint hum of the laptop. Then I nudge him lightly with my shoulder. “Your turn.”
He tilts his head. “My turn?”
“You asked about my family,” I say. “Fair’s fair.”
He goes quiet for a beat—not tense, exactly, but I can feel him retreat inward a little.
Then he exhales slowly. “My dad’s great. Remarried when I was just finishing middle school. Caroline, my stepmom, is amazing. They had two kids, obviously—Alyssa and Joey. They’re…honestly my favorite part of life outside football. I spend Sundays over there. Family lunch, helping the kids with homework, stuff like that.”
His voice softens when he talks about them, and something in my chest tightens.
“What about your mom?” I ask gently.
His fingers still for just a fraction of a second before resuming their path on my arm. His jaw works once before he clears his throat. “I don’t really talk to her often.”
The way he says it tells me not to press, so I don’t.
I just nod slowly. “Sounds like your siblings adore you.”
