The Fake: A College Sports Romance (Smart Jocks #4)

by Rebecca Jenshak

  “You two moved quick. See, that’s how it’s supposed to happen.” Sydney breezes right past the lies I told her like they’re inconsequential, and maybe they are. It feels good to tell her the truth, anyway. “I’m definitely getting rid of the five-date rule.”

  Liv and Sydney end up wanting to stay out later, but at eleven, I hug them and send Nathan a text that I’m on my way.

  Nathan: Left the front door open for you. Come on up, I’m in bed.

  I’m grinning as I rush out the front of TKE and nearly collide with a group of guys just walking in.

  “Whoa, sorry,” I say as I bob and weave between them.

  My Uber hasn’t shown so I wait by the curb impatiently, pacing up and down the short stretch of sidewalk.

  “Yo, Payne’s girl. Chloe, right?”

  I turn on my heel to see Frank walking up to the house. He’s got an easy smile and friendly demeanor about him that has me walking toward him. “That’s right.”

  “Where’s Nathan?”

  “Home. He had late practice today.”

  “Lame,” Frank says. “I never see him anymore. You leaving already, too?”

  “Yeah, I’m gonna go see my lame man.”

  He chuckles and scans the street. “Need a ride?”

  I hold up my phone. “Waiting on an Uber. Should be here any minute.” I glance down and see the estimated time has increased and the driver’s Subaru has gone in the opposite direction.

  “I could have you there and be back to the party by the time they get here.”

  “That’s alright. Nathan’s probably sleeping by now anyway.”

  Frank doesn’t move from his spot. His smile falls so that only one side of his mouth is pulled up into a half-grin. “Alright, well, it was good to see you again.” He starts to walk off and then turns. “Oh, hey.” He pulls out a cigarette, offers me one, and then lights it when I shake my head. He speaks again after he’s taken a long drag. “Could you give Nathan something for me?”

  “Sure.”

  He walks toward the curb and unlocks a black Jeep. He opens the back-passenger side seat and pulls out a Microeconomics textbook. “You’ll see that he gets it?”

  I nod as I grab the thick textbook. “Sure. Did he leave it in class or something?”

  Frank pauses a beat before nodding. I shove it in my backpack, and he closes the door and takes a step toward the party. “Thanks, Chloe, I appreciate it.” He motions toward the blue Subaru pulling up. “Looks like your ride finally made it.”

  It takes forever to get to Nathan’s. Okay, it only takes five minutes but I’m so anxious that every second of the driver trying to make small talk feels long. The front door is open as Nathan said it would be and I hurry through, only pausing to yell hello to Datson sitting on the couch watching a baseball game.

  Nathan’s room is dark, and I can just barely make out his shape on the bed. Quietly stepping out of my heels, I drop my backpack near the door and get in under the covers with him.

  “Surfer Princess,” he whispers gruffly and pulls me into him without opening his eyes. “You’re a beautiful dream.”

  I wake up sometime later plastered against Nathan. I lift my face from his sweaty chest and a deep groan from him startles me. His eyes are still closed, but his muscles twitch.

  I move over a bit to give him some space and lie back down so I won’t disturb his sleep, but the tremors get worse until I’m not sure if I should wake him up or shut my eyes and try to sleep. I turn on my back and inch closer to the edge in case my nearness is keeping him from falling back asleep.

  When his forearm connects with my forehead, I wince and then laugh. “Owww, Nathan,” I start, my voice laced with laughter that he’s hogging the bed and ready to fight me for space. I turn to him and fling his arm back.

  “No,” he growls. “Stop.” At the last word, he jumps from bed and stares down at it with blind fury and torment.

  “Nathan,” I try again, gently this time as I sit up in bed.

  He rips the blanket off and then the pillow. His eyes don’t seem to register anything as he tears apart the bed. I scramble across the mattress on all fours and stand on my knees to reach his face.

  “Nathan, hey, wake up.”

  He groans again and his chest lifts and falls quickly. I’m panicked and have no idea how to wake him or even if I should, but I’m desperate to take away the pained look on his beautiful face.

  I reach for him, place both hands on his face. “Honey, look at me.”

  He does, but his beautiful blue eyes are glossy, and I’m not sure he really sees me. I’m so scared my own fingers tremble. Without removing my hands, I move from the bed to stand beside him. “You’re okay. You’re just dreaming.”

  Words fail me so I step flush against him and press my lips to his. His hands go to my chest, and I think he might push me away. Slowly, his rigid body relaxes. When he wakes up, his eyes widen, and he steps back out of reach so fast I stumble back onto the bed.

  He looks around the room and then back to me, running a hand through his hair as he catches his breath. “Oh, my God, Chloe. Are you okay?” He takes a step toward me and then retreats. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  I shake my head. “Of course not.”

  My words don’t seem to comfort him. He stands rooted in place, body coiled so tightly I’m not sure what to say or do. Since it worked to wake him, I hope going to him is the right move, and I throw myself into his chest and wrap my arms around him tightly. He crumbles, taking me with him to the floor. I climb into his lap and he squeezes me against his heaving torso.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” The choked words spoken over the top of my head don’t feel like they’re meant for me.

  “It’s okay. Hey, I’m here. It was just a dream.”

  27

  Nathan

  We lie on the floor in my room. Chloe must have grabbed the pillows off the bed at some point because there’s one behind my head as I stare up to the ceiling.

  I’ve been pouring my guts out to the point I should probably be embarrassed, but I can’t seem to stop. All the things I’ve held onto about my dad and the guilt I feel, I share those with her because she’s here and for the first time I believe she’s not going anywhere.

  “Wanna know what the worst part is?”

  She nods, the slightest tilt of her head in the darkness.

  “It’s my fault he’s dead.”

  Her eyes widen and then her brows pull together in confusion.

  “About an hour before it happened, we got into a big fight. I’d blown off school to go to the lake with friends, which was bad enough, but I didn’t have cell service so when the school called Mom to tell her I wasn’t there, no one could find me. They’d thought the worst. Mom was in tears when I finally made it home and Dad was so pissed. I’d never seen him so mad.”

  “They were worried about you.”

  I nod. “Yeah, and I knew I was in the wrong, but my hot head couldn’t own up to it, so I yelled back and then stormed out and went to my buddy’s house. Last time I ever saw him.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “If I hadn’t skipped school or if I’d just stuck around and been there…” I let myself imagine all the possibilities.

  “It wasn’t your fault. People argue and they say things they don’t mean. He knew you loved him.”

  My eyes burn, and I swallow a lump in my throat. I guess that’s the root of the issue. Did he die thinking I was an ungrateful punk who only cared about himself?

  The wound is already open, so I keep going, sharing the darkest parts of me. “Ever since he died, I have these awful dreams. It’s that night except I don’t go to my buddy’s house. My dad and I are sitting together in the living room watching TV. There’s a baseball game on and he’s glued to the screen and I know it’s coming—I know he’s about to have a heart attack, so I try and warn him, but it’s like I’m not really there. I start off calm but then I get frantic until I’m scream
ing and waving in front of him, but he can’t see or hear me.”

  Chloe squeezes my hand. Her slim fingers intertwine with mine between us. She hasn’t spoken since I started talking. Just listens and holds my hand to let me know she’s here.

  “When I come to, I have to remind myself he’s already dead. In the dream, he’s alive. I always wake up before he dies so for a few seconds I think it was all just a bad dream. I can’t fucking remember and when my brain catches up to reality… he’s gone and I start the process of grieving him all over again.”

  Chloe turns on her side to face me, but I don’t drop her hand—I hold onto it like a lifeline. Her teeth sink into her trembling bottom lip.

  “I’ve never told anyone all that,” I confess.

  “How come?” she asks tentatively.

  “It’s fucking embarrassing. Joel and Zeke know I have the nightmares.”

  It feels weird to call them that, but I guess that’s what they are. Reliving the worst fucking day of my life from an alternate point of view. I hadn’t been there when my dad had a heart attack in his favorite recliner, but I’ve seen it over and over nearly every night since.

  “Zeke used to come in and wake me up when they were really bad. Most of the time I wake up on the floor in the morning, my room trashed, and I have no memory of doing it.”

  Rolling on top of me, Chloe blankets me with all of her. Her hair falls around her shoulder into my face and I breathe it in. I breathe her in. She’s an ocean of possibilities and hope that there’s still good to hold onto. That there’s still good in me.

  “It’s never happened twice in the same night, but if you want me to sleep somewhere else tonight, I’ll totally understand.” I run my hand over her hair and down her back. “Or if you want me to take you home.”

  She stands and holds her hands out to me. I get to my feet and she pulls me to the bed. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  And neither do I.

  I’m dragging ass as I walk across the street to the fieldhouse at dark thirty. I left Chloe sleeping in my bed and damn it was hard to leave. As my muscles warm up and the fog from not enough sleep starts to ease away, I find my rhythm.

  We split into two teams and do a light scrimmage to run through plays. We’ve got the exhibition game coming up and a lot of work to do before we show the university and local fans this year’s team.

  Basketball has become an escape, but this morning I try and push all that away and remember my love for it. I don’t want to play to forget, I want to play for me and for the great memories I had practicing with my dad and Heath, memories I’ve made playing on this court for the past three years, and for the memories I hope to make with my team this year.

  We may not make it back to the Final Four, but we’re gonna fight to go as far as we can.

  Joel and I bump wrists as we head to the sideline to grab water. “Nice fake back there. Datson was three steps in the wrong direction when you blew past him.”

  We sit down to take five, and I look out over the court. “Last year. Pretty surreal.”

  “Getting sentimental about graduation already?”

  “Guess I am.”

  “Me, too.” He tosses his towel on the floor next to him. “What are you thinking for next year?”

  I glance at him in confusion. “Next year?”

  “Yeah, next year, after graduation. Are you entering the draft?”

  I laugh but he doesn’t join me. “You’re serious?”

  “Hell yeah.”

  “I hadn’t given it any thought,” I answer honestly. “I just wanna see this year through first.”

  “Alright then, let’s do it up right,” he says and stands ready to go back out and get our team ready.

  Chloe’s already gone to her early morning classes when I get home from practice. I hop in the shower and get ready for Comm class.

  When I slide into the seat next to her, I’m grinning like an idiot. She’s smiling at me, and my chest fills with such happiness to have her. Really have her. I worried last night was going to make things awkward between us, but in some weird way, I think it brought us closer.

  Professor Sanchez is on a rampage today, so we barely get a chance to scribble notes to each other and when class is dismissed, I groan because I know she has to hurry to make her bus.

  “Don’t go,” I tease and hug her tight.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow, and I’ll come straight over.” She tips her head up, her green eyes meeting mine. “I mean, if you want me to. I didn’t mean to invite myself over.”

  I brush my lips against hers. “You can invite yourself over any time. Don’t think I’ll ever get sick of you.”

  “Chloe, let’s go,” Emily calls, and I loosen my grip on my girl.

  “Good luck. Kill ‘em.”

  She grins. “I will.” She rushes to meet Emily and Sydney at the top of the stairs, and I watch her, feeling like a chump because I already miss her.

  I sent Heath a couple texts to hear about his college trip, but he sent a meme of a little girl being dragged facedown around a carousel and told me he’d call tomorrow. Guess he’s tired.

  I head to Gabby’s apartment later that night.

  “Gabs?” I call, entering her place.

  “I’m changing, give me one sec.”

  I take a seat on her couch to wait. She comes into the living room, practically bouncing with each step.

  “You look happy.”

  “I am.” Plopping down next to me, she pulls her feet under her on the couch. “We haven’t hung out in forever. What do you want to do tonight?”

  I lie my head back. “Movie?”

  “You’re such an old man. What happened to the guy who used to close down the party on the dance floor with me?”

  “He’s still in there. He’s just tired. Chloe and I were up half the night.”

  Gabby’s eyebrows raise.

  “Not like that, perv.”

  She holds both hands up in front of her. “I don’t need to know.”

  I grab a throw pillow and lightly hit her over the head with it. “We stayed up talking.”

  “You really like her.” Gabby smooths her hair back from her face and smiles at me, showing all her straight white teeth.

  I nod. “I really do.”

  “Good.” She claps her hands. “I was going to ask her to be in the wedding so you can’t break up with her.”

  It’s my turn to be shocked. “The wedding?”

  “I’m getting married. Hello?” She flashes her ring.

  “When? I figured you two would be engaged for a few years first, I guess.”

  She shrugs. “Next summer. If it weren’t for the logistics of me finishing school and Zeke’s schedule, I’d do it even sooner. I love him, and I want to start our lives together.”

  “I’m happy for you, Gabs.”

  “Thank you.” She uncrosses her legs and reaches over to the coffee table. “Okay, now you have two options. One, help me pick out wedding stuff?” She holds up a bridal magazine.

  “What’s my other option?”

  “Go dancing with me.”

  I hold my hand out for the magazine, and she squeals before putting it in my hands.

  “If anyone asks, we went dancing.”

  28

  Chloe

  Nathan: Plans June twentieth of next year?

  Me: Let me think, I’ll have to check my calendar… nope, no plans. What’s up?

  Nathan: Wanna make sure I have a date to the elaborate wedding Gabby’s planning. Do people really release live doves?

  I’m lying in bed holding my phone over my head with one hand. Sydney’s giving herself a pedicure on the bed next to me. Despite only getting a few hours of sleep last night, I’m wired and wide awake.

  Me: Doves, butterflies… yeah, it’s a thing.

  Nathan: Weird.

  Me: So there’ll be no releasing of any wild animals at your wedding?

  Nathan: Do I get a choice? The way Gabby’s f
orging ahead over here I don’t think Zeke’s getting a lot of say in the matter.

  Me: Let’s pretend you do.

  My chest squeezes as I wait for his response. I haven’t given a lot of thought to weddings or marriage but talking about it with Nathan feels… fun and I find myself wanting to know exactly how he sees the future, including whether he’s yay or nay to doves at his someday nuptials.

  Nathan: I’m a simple guy. No doves, butterflies, or other defenseless animals should be harmed (or scared) in honor of my “special day” – Gabby’s words, obviously.

  Nathan: Ready for tomorrow?

  Me: Yeah. A little nervous. State is tough. We lost to them last year.

  I yawn and turn on my side. I plug my phone in and wait for Nathan to respond.

  Nathan: You lost to them at Golden?

  Me: I meant Valley.

  I didn’t face them at Golden, but I smile because I totally “we’d” myself like I’ve always been here.

  Me: I should get some sleep.

  Me: Night, handsome.

  Nathan: Sweet dreams. Night, Surfer Princess.

  I’m just about ready to crawl under the covers when there’s a knock at our suite door. Sydney calls out, “Come in.”

  Emily and Bri come through the door that adjoins our rooms, arms full. Bri holds a two-liter of Diet Coke in one hand and the ice bucket in the other. Emily hurries behind her and unloads a bunch of mini liquor bottles onto the end of my bed.