Billionaire's Fake Fiancé (An Alpha Billionaire Romance Love Story) (Billionaires - Book #10)

by Claire Adams

  The weekend ended faster than I would have guessed; everyone was moved into their dorms, and even the upperclassmen were all on campus. Georgia and I had another day of getting settled in. We were definitely more than ready to start our classes, to see what it would be like. So when Monday morning came around and I had to wake up for my first class, I was awake even before my alarm went off. I took a quick shower and got dressed, agonizing more than I would have wanted to admit to anyone over the choice of what to wear to my first day of classes. Jeez, it’s not like the first day of school, I told myself. “Get your act together, Becky.” I shook my head and decided to go with a regular old t-shirt and jeans, a cute pair of shoes, and my purse.

  Georgia and I had bought our books the day before, and I was more grateful than I had ever been in my life that my parents were well-off. Before we’d set out for the campus, Dad had pulled me aside and put a gold AmEx into my hands. “Now, the bills from this card are coming straight to me, so don’t think I’m not going to know what you’re spending it on,” he had told me. “But books are expensive, and you do deserve a little bit of fun—so as long as you don’t go over-budget, I’m not going to look at things too closely. But if you go over your budget, I’m going to make you find a way to pay for it.”

  My first class of the day was my English course, and as I came out of the dorms, I saw dozens of other students making their way across campus, hurrying to get to their classes—a few of them had obviously already had a class today, and I shook my head, thinking to myself that it was at least good that I hadn’t had to wake up even earlier. I stopped off in the dining hall, knowing I had a little bit of time—not enough to sit down and have breakfast, but enough time to grab something to eat and maybe some coffee. I’d been so nervous and excited the night before that I had barely slept—I knew I was going to need the caffeine in me for the math class that came afterward.

  I grabbed a banana and some pre-toasted bread and tucked it into my backpack carefully then poured myself a carry-away cup of coffee. I was still feeling confident as I got out of the dining hall, following the flow of students leaving and heading out to the other side of campus where the different class buildings were. My English class was in MC1012, which I had at least figured out was the Marchman building, named after some author who had gone to the school ages before and then, when he had gotten wealthy selling books, had endowed the English department. But I had no idea where the Marchman building was, and suddenly, the tiny campus seemed huge.

  I wandered around, trying not to check the time too often on my phone as I looked for any of the signs that could have told me where I was on campus or where the different buildings were. I had plenty of time, I told myself over and over again. I had left my room early. I sipped at my coffee, trying to fight down the sense of rising panic that filled my head as I wandered around without any clue at all which building I needed to be at. I thought about going to the Admissions building, but that was all the way on the other side of the campus—I would be late for sure if I did that.

  I saw some other kids, obviously upperclassmen, walking past me. “Hey,” I called out, keeping my voice as calm as possible. “I’m—kind of new here, first day and all; could someone tell me where the Marchman building is?” They acted like they hadn’t heard me, but I caught one of the girls—a sorority girl with one of the pins showing her affiliation—grinning to herself as she turned away.

  As I wandered around, trying to find a sign, a guidepost, anything, and asking people if they knew where the building was, I realized I was completely and totally lost. A bunch of the people I asked were freshmen like me and had no clue that there even was a Marchman building; some of the, just didn’t answer, one or two at least had enough politeness to say that they were in a rush to get to their class and couldn’t stop to help me. I was starting to lose any hope and felt humiliated by the fact that I couldn’t even make it to my first class of the day.

  “Becky!” I wheeled around at the sound of my name on a slightly familiar voice, my heart pounding. I almost gasped as I saw the source: Johnny was walking towards me, a smile on his face. Blood rushed into my cheeks, and I bit my bottom lip, taking a deep breath. Nothing could have completed my humiliation more elegantly than for Johnny to see me being completely and totally useless. “You look like you’re about to cry,” he said, frowning slightly as he came closer to me.

  “Just—a little frazzled,” I said, trying to smile and brush the look off of my face. “I’m so useless; I can’t even find my first class.” Johnny grinned.

  “That’s nothing to cry about,” he said. He leaned in closer to me, and I saw his bright eyes sparkling. “Seriously, everyone who’s ever been here has had a class they couldn’t find—hell, last year I spent most of the first session of my Chem class trying to find it. They’d moved it around three times before the semester even started.” He pulled me to the side slightly, to let some of the other students pass. “So what class are you going to?” I took a deep breath.

  “It’s—it’s American Literature to 1890, in the Marchman building. MC1012.” Johnny’s eyes widened slightly, and he looked around us.

  “I hate to break it to you, Becky, but you are totally in the wrong place.” I sighed, closing my eyes.

  “Great.” Johnny patted me on the shoulder, giving my hair a playful tweak.

  “The good news is that I happen to know exactly where that room is.” I looked up, hopeful. “Before you even ask: yes, I’ll take you there.” I saw that he had a book bag slung over his shoulder.

  “But you have class, don’t you? You could just tell me how to get there…” I couldn’t say that I wouldn’t love to have Johnny walk me to class, but I would have felt guilty if he got in trouble to do it. Johnny shrugged.

  “The prof won’t mind,” he told me. “Now come on—let’s get you to your class before you’re late. If you’ve got Barrett, you want to get off to a good start with her, and being late is something she hates.” He put an arm over my shoulder and steered me into the thick of the students moving along the walkway, pushing his way through a harried group and starting off in the direction of the building in question. I felt relief flooding me. I wasn’t going to be late; I was going to be just on time. Johnny was so sweet to help me out.

  As we walked, he joked with me, pointing out different people he recognized in the crowd of students coming and going and murmuring little comments about them. Such and such a person had gotten a reputation by getting plastered the first week of classes and throwing up in one of the introductory classes that all of the freshmen had to take, another person had jumped up on one of the tables in the dining hall and proclaimed his love for the girl he ended up dating seriously—little details that started to put me at ease, all while we made our way over to the building where my class was going to be. “And here is the Marchman building! Hall of horrors.” He shuddered and grinned.

  “Hey, I like English!” I countered. “It’s what I’m majoring in, after all. I love books—I guess that makes me a nerd, but it’s true.” Johnny laughed.

  “If you’re a nerd, you’re at least a cute nerd. I’ve just always been better at math.” I shook my head.

  “I’m okay at it if I try really, really hard.” Johnny led me towards the stairs and explained that the elevators in the Marchman building were cranky—it was easier just to take the stairs up, instead of waiting for the elevator to get there and possibly ending up stuck for hours until one of the maintenance staff was able to get it running again. “You know,” I said as we came to the floor my class was on, feeling daring—and nervous all at the same time. “If you needed like, help in any of your English classes, I could lend a hand… I’m really grateful you’re helping me out.” Johnny grinned.

  “It’s nothing, but if you’re offering, I might take you up on that. I never seem to be able to get my papers done on time.” He shook his head. I had gotten the impression as he talked, and from how readily he brushed off the possibility of gett
ing in trouble for being late, that Johnny Steel did whatever he wanted without anyone much telling him to stop.

  He stopped at a classroom marked MC1012. “Here you are—and you’ve got a minute or two before the Barrett gets here, even! How’s that for luck?” I grinned, feeling like an idiot but not caring. “Hey, now that I think about it: the frat I belong to is throwing a party soon—well, we throw a lot of great parties. You should come out. First, best party of the year.” I fought down the urge to make a face; the last thing I wanted was to go to a frat party. I knew Johnny was too good to be true: of course he belonged to a frat. There had to be at least a little something wrong with him. But if he was in a frat, it couldn’t be that bad, and I had been to plenty of parties—they were all the same at the bottom of it. He had been so sweet and kind to me that I couldn’t resist, even if I was doubtful about how much fun I would have. I told him that I would definitely come by to check it out and slipped into my classroom feeling like I was walking on air. I watched Johnny start off back to the stairs and took my seat, still smiling to myself at the luck I was having.

  Chapter Five

  Georgia and I had agreed to meet up for lunch on the first day of classes before we had to go to our Precalculus class together, so I left my first session of American Literature and found my way across campus, back to the dining hall, as quickly as I could. I knew that I’d eventually know the campus like the back of my hand, the same as Johnny, and I told myself that when I did, if some freshman came up to me and asked for directions to one of the dozen or so buildings, I’d make sure to at least give them some kind of advice on how to get there.

  Georgia was waiting for me at the entrance to the dining hall, peering through the crowds of students coming and going. She leaped up from the bench when she saw me, running over and grinning. “Did you get lost? I did. But at least I managed to get to my class on time; man, there was one kid who came in twenty minutes into class…” Gigi and I talked about the impossibility of finding our way across the campus and how there should have been a much more involved orientation that centered on where everything was.

  When I told her about Johnny saving me, she gasped, staring at me in shock. “Seriously? Man, you have the best luck. I just wish some hot guy could have swooped in and showed me where the classroom was.” She shook her head as we moved slowly forward in line, commenting again on how lucky I was. “Oh man, Becky, he’s totally into you.” I shook my head.

  “He’s a frat guy, I doubt it.” I told her about the party that Johnny had invited me to, and Gigi made the face that I hadn’t quite dared to make when Johnny had mentioned the frat party.

  “What frat is he with, do you know?”

  I shrugged; he had mentioned it, but I hadn’t really paid much attention. “Phi Kappa something?”

  Georgia’s eyes widened again and she grinned. “Oh man, that is the one with the worst reputation. All the different sports guys are in it, and they’ve nearly been broken up like—a dozen times for how wild their parties get.” She shook her head, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “It’s probably just all hype, though.”

  “Yeah, I mean, parties are all the same.” We grabbed trays and browsed along the lunch line; I dared to get the eggplant parmesan with some salad and garlic bread, while Georgia ordered a sandwich from the deli line and got soup to go with it.

  There weren’t quite as many people in the dining room as there had been at dinner before; some of the kids had just grabbed to-go boxes with food in them and rushed off to classes that met during the lunch hour. The dining hall stayed open until three, but they didn’t have much to offer after 1:30—just sandwiches, the salad bar, and leftover pizza and soup. Georgia and I agreed that we’d hit up the frozen yogurt machines for dessert, since none of the cake or pies looked particularly appetizing. I tried a new juice, along with pouring myself some more coffee.

  We sat down and talked about Johnny and the other guys we’d seen rushing about campus. “You know, I still haven’t seen anyone as hot as he is. You’re lucky he’s interested.” I rolled my eyes.

  “Oh please. He’s an upperclassman, obviously gets away with murder, and a frat boy. He’s got plenty of women who want him; I doubt he even gave me a second thought.”

  “Really? He remembered your name. He obviously thought about you a little bit.” I shook my head.

  “Or he’s really good at remembering names.” Georgia laughed.

  “Guys only remember names when it’s someone they want to fight or someone they want to bang.” I shook my head.

  “My dad remembers plenty of names.” Georgia rolled her eyes.

  “Whatever, Becky—Johnny wants you. I’m totally jelly, but you deserve to get a good lay after going without.” I threw a piece of garlic bread at her, and she caught it and ate it. “You should totally go to the party, even if it’ll probably be lame.”

  “Eh, it’s a party. How lame can it be?”

  Georgia grinned. “I’m picturing half-naked ape-men hanging from the light fixtures in togas,” she said. “At least there will be plenty of other guys behaving badly.” I laughed, even though the idea of Johnny as an “ape-man” didn’t quite jibe with the impression that I’d already gotten of him. I didn’t like judging people I’d never met, but I didn’t have the most optimistic predictions about the party itself. I agreed that I would think about it, and we put the whole topic behind us, focusing in on the rest of our classes for the day.

  As I sat in math with Georgia—after we both managed to find our way to the building it was in—I tried to focus on the introduction the professor was making, but my mind kept slipping. I knew I needed to pay attention to what the professor was saying; I knew that since math wasn’t even close to my best subject, I especially needed to focus, but I couldn’t keep myself from thinking about Johnny. Oh God, this is bad, I thought, writing down notes without even really hearing what the professor was saying. All I could think about was the conversation I’d had with Johnny, how cute he was, how sweet and funny and nice he was. I had no idea what I was even putting down in my notebook; for all I knew the professor could have been speaking Latin, and I would have just obediently written down words I couldn’t even understand.

  Instead, I was thinking of what it would be like to talk to Johnny again. I was thinking about his strong hands, his cute smile, and the way his eyes sparkled when he told a joke. I remembered my fantasies from the night before last and thought about what it would be like to feel him touching me everywhere. I could feel myself getting hot, my skin tingling as I shivered in the cold classroom, thinking of him. I couldn’t help myself; he was just so hot, and even though I knew there was almost no chance of actually getting him, I had to admit that I was more than a little attracted to him. He was in a frat, which wasn’t the greatest thing, but at least he was a decent guy. I couldn’t imagine him being like some of the jerks my dad hung out with—he was way too nice for that.

  Gigi and I parted ways, heading to our other classes for the afternoon, and the thoughts I was having about Johnny only got worse. I started imagining what he would look like naked, how it would be to kiss him, trying to speculate what he would be like in bed. I thought as funny and sweet as he was, it would have to be a lot of fun to sleep with him. I’d been with a couple of guys, but not very many; at the high school I’d gone to, word got out really fast. I definitely didn’t want to come across as a slut, and it would have been really easy with the close-knit crowd I hung out with, especially if I’d ever slept with anyone who wasn’t “approved.”

  As I sat through my classes for the afternoon, I thought with dread about how bad it was that I couldn’t even manage to keep it together on the first day. I’d never had a problem with keeping my mind on my work in high school. Even when I’d had a huge crush on someone, I had been able to at least focus on whatever task was in front of me. But suddenly, with Johnny on my mind, I couldn’t think of anything but him. I would make up for it later, but for the moment, I kept pictur
ing him, remembering every detail of the two short conversations we’d had—the way he’d touched my shoulder or tweaked at my hair. I couldn’t even really remember the last time I had been with someone, and I knew for a fact that the last guy I had dated was nowhere near as hot as Johnny was. No matter how much I tried to push him out of my mind, I kept coming back to thoughts of him, my imagination running wild. It was hopeless.

  I will just have to cope with it as best as I could, I thought as the class ended surprisingly suddenly, with me none the wiser about what it was even about, what anyone had discussed, or what any of the deadlines for the semester would be. I have my syllabus; it can’t be that hard. I took a deep breath as I gathered up my things. Get your head straight, Becky. You can’t get behind your first week.

  Chapter Six

  Later that day, Georgia and I had decided to head over to the dining hall with some of the other girls on our floor. After classes, I’d run into them and we’d started talking, and to my surprise we actually had a little bit in common with each other. One of the girls on our floor was from a family like mine, with parents who had wanted her to go to an Ivy League school, another one was an English major—she was taking British literature instead of American for her first semester—but she was pretty interesting and smart all the same.

  We had both started getting to know people; even as distracted as I was, thinking about Johnny all afternoon, I had at least managed to make conversation with a couple of people in one of my classes, and I wasn’t going to miss out on an opportunity to get to know some of the better kids in the dorms just because my brain was all twisted around Johnny.