Fake Fiancée

by Ilsa Madden-Mills

  “I’ll do it,” I announced, much to the pleasure of Bette who beamed. I sent Isabella a pointed look as I stood and followed Bette to a dressing room. “Pour me another glass of champagne, girl. I’m gonna need it after this.”

  Max

  ON THE WAY HOME FROM our game, I texted Sunny after her interview to check in on her.

  Can I see you tonight?

  I need to study.

  I exhaled, my fingers typing. We lost tonight. I need someone to talk to. I need you.

  I settled for watching the passing trees out the bus window when she didn’t respond right away. I imagined her staring at her phone, debating. It was apparent she was pushing me away since we’d had sex in the basement—and there was nothing I could do about it, not while I was right in the middle of football.

  I’ll bring sushi, I added, my hands gripping the phone tightly.

  Okay.

  I sat back, relieved I’d get to be alone with her, yet part of me still fumed at our first loss of the season—all my fault. I’d thrown two interceptions—freshman year shit. I scratched my gruff and leaned my head back on the vinyl of the bus seat.

  I’d like to blame it on my twitchy ankle I’d gotten from the library a few weeks ago, but the athletic coaches had checked me out that day, put some ice on it, and it had been good. They told me to keep it easy for the rest of the week, so Coach had me sit out a few hard practices. The result had me feeling rusty, and today it had showed.

  “Mate. Chill. We lost. We still have Appalachian State next week. Easy peasy,” Tate said from across the aisle.

  I raised my head up. “I let us down. That guy came out of nowhere and snatched it . . .” Whatever.

  “It was double coverage, dude,” Ryn said from the seat in front of me.

  “Don’t sweat it. Next week. We got this.” Tate’s eyes went to my leg. “No more injuries, okay—even if you are rescuing a girl.”

  Yeah, yeah. He was asking the impossible.

  When she was around, I couldn’t think straight.

  “Go ahead and be a hero anytime you want,” Felix called from the very back of the bus. Of course the team had heard about the rescue when I’d had to explain my ankle. “I’ll play next week.”

  I flipped him off.

  “Easy,” Tate said softly. “Don’t give the wanker the satisfaction of knowing he makes you mad.”

  Coach sent us I have my eyes on you glares, and I tried to shake off the tension, which was way more than just a loss. I’d been on edge since the library, ready to jump at anyone’s throat.

  God. I was tired. I leaned my head back against the seat and slipped in my ear buds, putting in some old-school Beastie Boys. Thoughts of Sunny niggled at me, pricking at my memories, and within minutes, I was out.

  I dreamed.

  My mom was dead, lying on a sterile hospital bed. Her lashes rested lightly on her cheeks and part of me expected her to open them and send me her usual smile.

  “You don’t have to stay,” the doctor murmured. He put a tentative hand on my shoulder, and I shook it off.

  I picked her hand up as tears pricked at my eyes.

  “The aneurysm was in her brain—there wasn’t anything you could do,” he murmured as if reading my thoughts. “Her death was instant.”

  I nodded. Yeah. They’d gone over it with me—again and again. It was just so sudden. I wanted to yell at the doctor—tell him that it wasn’t fair—that she was all I had—but I held back, all of seventeen going on ancient.

  I tucked her hand under the covers, touched her cheek lightly, and then walked out the door.

  I had to get out of there.

  I exited the hospital and found my Harley. The bike was new, and she’d insisted I drive it up for our vacation while she followed in her Mercedes. I’d parked it in a fire lane when I’d followed the ambulance. Fuck them. Let them try to tow me. I’d fucking . . .

  I stopped, squeezing my eyes shut as I sat down on the concrete curb next to the road, exhausted. She fought to be happy for so long and right when she’d gotten there . . .

  Someone walked past me, whispering, and I realized I had to get further away.

  I got on my bike and rode out of the parking lot with nothing but my backpack and wallet.

  I drove and drove until I had no clue where I was.

  Needing to piss, I drove down a rural gravel road to a shoreline that overlooked a huge lake.

  I wanted to throw rocks in it, scream at it. So I did. I yelled obscenities and rammed my fist into my palm. I cursed at God for taking her.

  Toeing my shoes off, I laid down on the rocks, letting them dig into my backside. I didn’t care. At least it was something.

  My heart ached.

  I wanted my mom back . . .

  I wanted Sunday morning waffles.

  I wanted her to hug me right before a game.

  A sob tore at my throat. Fuck. Not again with the crying shit.

  A convertible Mustang sped by on the bridge above me, swerved, and hit the guardrail.

  I sat up.

  A grinding noise shattered the eerie silence as the rail gave way and the car soared into the lake.

  I didn’t stop to think. Off came the clothes. I snatched my knife from my backpack, and in seconds I was in the water and swimming to where I could just barely see the top of the car.

  Down I swam, putting all my grief into saving a life. If I could do this . . . there was fucking hope left in the world. I cut a hole and grabbed a hand that came through. I tugged the person out.

  Once on the shore, I checked for vitals—no breathing but I had a pulse—and did CPR.

  Beautiful relief hit me when she came to, her face deathly pale.

  Strings of long hair wrapped around her neck and shoulders, and I moved them out of the way, noticing that even wet, her hair was blond. When dry, it must be nearly white. Her face was delicate, with a small nose and full lips. Lying in my arms, she didn’t look real.

  How old was she?

  My fingers brushed her shoulders and she trembled at the touch.

  I wanted to ask her name—but I didn’t.

  I didn’t have to.

  Luminous gray eyes peered up at me.

  “Sunny,” I whispered.

  My eyes flared open as I awoke with a jump. Fuck me. She had been in front of me the entire time—and I’d forgotten her. I’d always remembered helping a girl out of a watery grave—hell, I’d even told Tate about it freshman year, but the other details . . .

  I raked a hand through my hair. Did she remember me?

  She did. My gut knew it.

  And suddenly my heart was pounding. Was this why she’d been off with me lately?

  “Bad dream?” Tate asked.

  I blinked and rubbed my eyes, still wrapping my head around the knowledge.

  “Must have been. Dude. You okay?”

  No. I wasn’t. I shook my head, pushing his voice out as he continued to talk. So many things clicked into place—the automatic connection, that magnetic pull I felt, how she’d never been a stranger to me.

  “You getting off the bus?” Tate asked as he gathered up his gym bag.

  What?

  I gazed around. We’d pulled up at the field house and parked. “Yeah. I—I need to see Sunny.”

  Tate had already texted a groupie to pick him up, and he headed to her car as he stepped to the curb. Ryn was riding with me, and we headed to the Land Cruiser parked closer to the field house.

  I’d just crawled in the front seat and cranked it when I heard a girl scream.

  “What was that?” Ryn said as we both flipped around to look out the rear window. We saw Bianca and Felix arguing a few feet away next to her white Lexus. She’d apparently been here to greet him.

  Let it go, Max.

  But then he jabbed his finger in her shoulder.

  My eyes swept the lot. Of course, all the coaches had bolted, either heading off in their car or they’d gone into the field house to dump equipmen
t. The only people left were the handful who’d been in the back of the bus.

  Ryn and I got back out of my car and headed to where they were. Because I had issues with Felix, I let Ryn step in first. I was the captain of this team, but sometimes that came with knowing when not to open your big mouth.

  “Nothing to see here,” Felix snapped when Ryn asked what was the matter.

  Bianca sent me a pleading look, almost as if telling me to go away. She played with her wrists, red marks on them. He’d tugged on her. Maybe she’d been in his face? My hands tightened. Whatever the reason, there was no excuse for manhandling a girl—not when you’re as big as Felix.

  A flush rode his cheek, showing a definite handprint where she’d slapped him. I’d been on the receiving end of that as well, once, only I’d walked away.

  Ryn looked at Bianca. “I’m not leaving until you tell me you’re okay.” He pointed to my car. “If you don’t feel like driving, we can take you wherever you need to go.”

  She nodded and seemed to compose herself. “It—it’s fine. I’m sorry I startled everyone. Felix—Felix didn’t know I was going to be here, and we had an argument.”

  “Do you need anything?” I said.

  “No. I’m going home.” Her gaze went to Felix. “Alone.”

  Felix narrowed sly eyes at her, his lip curling. “Do what you want—but I won’t be alone tonight.”

  As if his words had electrified her, she straightened up from where she’d been leaning against her car. She pointed her finger at him, frustration and hurt mingling on her face. “You think you can do whatever you want just because you wear a jersey and I care about you,” she said. “But I’m done letting you get away with treating me like dirt. It’s over.” Her voice broke and she swiped at a tear that slid down her cheek.

  Her eyes landed on me. “Even you,” she whispered.

  She opened her car door and with a peel of her tires, she flew out of the lot.

  For the first time since we’d broken up, two things became very clear.

  First of all, I’d never cared for Bianca the way I should have. She was too unstable and flighty for the long term. Had she just been the best fuck I’d had in college at the time? Maybe. Nothing I felt for her even came close to Sunny.

  And second, I’d never cheated on her, but I hadn’t given her the attention she needed. I hadn’t spent the time with her she’d wanted because I hadn’t been ready to commit. Not really. Football had always been first. It still was.

  At the same time, I wasn’t going to let Felix push her around either. She was a human being for fuck’s sake, and if he’d been pushing her around . . . my fists clenched.

  Felix started to walk away toward his vehicle, and I grabbed his arm and flipped him around. Ryn got between us. “Whoa, guys. We don’t need another fight between you two.”

  I bit my words out slowly, making sure he saw the promise in my eyes. “If you ever hit her, I’ll break your arm. You’ll never throw another pass again.”

  An ugly snarl crossed his face. “You’re too scared of ruining your career to back that up. Fuck off.”

  Then he popped away from us and jogged to his car.

  We watched him speed off. “Dude, he looked scary,” Ryn said. “Should we be worried about her?”

  “I don’t know.” I rubbed my temple.

  Ryn exhaled. “Do you mind if we just drive by Bianca’s and make sure he doesn’t go over there? I know she’s not your favorite person, but . . .”

  Yeah. I saw where he was coming from. I nodded.

  Sunny

  MAX WAS HALF AN HOUR late, and I assumed the line at Woo’s to get our take-out was longer than he’d expected. I’d sent him a text earlier to check, but he hadn’t responded.

  I poured myself a cup of hot chocolate and hugged it as I took it to the couch in the den. I flipped on the television, curled a furry blanket around my feet, and waited.

  And waited.

  My stomach growled, reminding me I was starved. I’d zipped home from Mimi’s, taken a long hot shower, and then straightened up the house for Max after I’d gotten his text. Now, I was done. Pretending today at the bridal shop had exhausted me. I took another sip of cocoa and rubbed my chest.

  A knock came at the door.

  I flew up off the couch, ran to the door, and flung it open.

  Isabella and Ash stood there. I hid my disappointment by smiling. “Hi there!”

  “Did you even look before opening the door? What if I’d been the Daisy Man!” she exclaimed dramatically. She jiggled a six-pack of Corona while Ash showed me his stack of pizza boxes.

  I grinned. “Beer and pizza. Come on in, my friends.”

  Ash chuckled, his big shoulders gliding effortlessly in a tight black shirt. “Sorry to intrude. I’m not sure who this Daisy Man is, but Isabella insisted you needed company.” He shot a glance at her. “We were all set to hang out at my place, and she insisted on coming here.”

  I sent her a look that said, Afraid to be alone and get cozy with Ash?

  She glared. Yes, bitch. Now shut up.

  My eyes said, Only because you have food and I’m hungry.

  “And who is this Daisy Man you guys are talking about?” Ash asked.

  “Some weirdo left her a daisy on the back porch weeks ago. Scared the bejesus out of her,” Isabella said, getting down some plates for us.

  His eyes focused on me, a worried wrinkle on his brow, and I remembered something I’d been meaning to ask him. With classes, work, and getting over to check on Mimi, I’d missed a few study sessions at the library. This was the first time I’d seen him in a while. “The night I got locked in the library, did you see anyone using the stairwell at the back of the building—the one for maintenance?” My shoulders slumped. “Apparently, the police can’t find any evidence.”

  He shook his head. “No. Isabella’s already grilled me on the details of that night. I didn’t see anyone near the stairwell.”

  I grimaced. “Did you see anything odd that night?”

  He mulled it over. “Not weird, really, but I saw Felix leaving the library with a girl that wasn’t Bianca. I just assumed he was an asshole who cheated on his girlfriend. You think it’s important?”

  No, but I pressed him. “Who was it?”

  He shrugged. “Some redhead. Beats me what her name is. I’m new in town.”

  “The police aren’t really concerned about it and are taking it as more of a joke,” I said. “Maybe they’re right.”

  Isabella sent me an expectant look. “Where’s Max? We brought plenty for him too.” I’d texted her earlier that he was coming over but hadn’t mentioned the sushi. “I assumed he’d already be here.”

  “Yeah. Me, too.” I helped myself to a slice of pepperoni, thanking them again for stopping by to have dinner and check on me.

  A knock came half an hour later while we were watching Dirty Dancing.

  Relief mingled with annoyance when I saw it was Max. At the door, I took in his low-waisted jeans and the soft knit of his cobalt blue sweater. “You’re late.”

  His hand rested on the doorjamb as his eyes met mine. “And I didn’t pick up dinner. I’m sorry.”

  My face stayed impassive. “It’s good. I ate already.”

  “Yeah?” His eyes went to the commotion behind me, watching Isabella and Ash in their sock feet, sliding around on the hardwood in my den, attempting to dance like they knew what they were doing. I smiled at their antics. Isabella was convinced Ash looked like Patrick Swayze, hence the movie selection.

  “What’s going on?”

  “They’re reenacting a scene from Dirty Dancing.” At Max’s questioning eyebrow, I elaborated. “Ash lost a bet, so she’s making him pay.”

  “Ah.” He raked a hand through his dark hair. “Anyway, I’m sorry. I should have texted, but my phone died.”

  “There’s a charger in your car.”

  “I wasn’t paying attention.” He grimaced. “I can explain though.”

>   Whatever. I crossed my arms.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said, his gaze soft, lingering on the bare-shoulder blouse I wore. His eyes landed on my lips. “Even when you’re ornery.”

  My body leaned into his as if it had a mind of its own. “Do—do you want to come in?”

  He nodded and trailed after me to the kitchen. “I saw Bianca tonight. She and Felix had a blow-up when she met the bus at the field house. I followed her home and found her crying in her car outside her apartment. We talked . . .” his voice stopped. “You okay?”

  His words hit me like a sledgehammer. “I’m fine.” I held it together by looking sightlessly into the fridge, forgetting why I’d even opened the door.

  “Ryn was with me.”

  So? My lips tightened. Just hearing her name, knowing that she suspected we weren’t real, drove me insane. Sometimes, I was even surprised she hadn’t gossiped more about us or at least tried to tell the media. Maybe she did care about Max.

  “Nothing happened,” he said.

  I flipped back around and let the fridge slam shut behind me. “I don’t care. It’s fine. Come on. You can finish the movie with us, but after that I need to study.” I started to walk away.

  “She broke up with Felix.”

  I froze, my pounding heart the only thing I could hear for a moment.

  I turned back to him. “Are—are you getting back with her?”

  He reared back. “Fuck no.”

  “If you want to, I’ll understand. We can ‘break up’ early . . .”

  “Stop it. I don’t want her . . . haven’t in a long time.” His voice was gruff.

  “Yeah?”

  He nodded. “I didn’t touch her except to make sure she got in her apartment. We made sure Felix wasn’t there and left. End of story.”

  He followed me into the den and sat next to me on the couch. Isabella and Ash sent us curious glances, and I figured it was easy to see things weren’t quite right. Finally the movie ended and they both left. I saw them to the door and made a date to have lunch with them soon.

  When I walked back into the den, Max’s words hit me in the face.

  “I remember you,” he said quietly, a tumultuous look in his eyes.