8 public disaster
If there's one thing I've learned in the last twenty-four hours, it's that "controlled public appearance" is just a nicer way of saying you're about to embarrass yourself in front of a large audience again, but this time on purpose.
"I don't understand why I have to be here," I say, staring at the outdoor café like it personally offended me.
Jess, sitting across from me with an iced drink and way too much excitement for someone not directly involved, doesn't even look sympathetic. "Because you agreed to fake date a hockey captain in front of the entire internet."
"I agreed under pressure."
"You agreed very quickly."
"That's not the point."
Riley leans back in her chair, sunglasses on like she's trying to avoid being recognized, which is ironic considering she's the reason this is happening. "They're two minutes away."
"Great," I mutter. "I'm thrilled."
Jess kicks my foot under the table. "Try to look like you're not about to commit a crime."
"I'm not committing a crime."
"You look like you're thinking about it."
"That's because I am."
The café itself is exactly the kind of place people go to be seen—outdoor seating, bright colors, way too many people holding their phones at suspicious angles.
It's already obvious we've been spotted.
A group of girls across the street keeps glancing over, whispering, one of them very clearly recording.
I shift in my seat. "They're already filming."
Jess glances over casually. "Of course they are."
"This was a bad idea."
"This was an inevitable idea," Riley corrects.
I open my mouth to argue, but a car pulls up along the curb, and Jess grabs my arm so suddenly I almost spill my drink.
"They're here," she says, unnecessarily.
"I can see that."
Declan gets out first, looking like this is the highlight of his week. Caiden steps out after him, and somehow the energy shifts instantly—not louder, not bigger, just more focused, like everything narrows.
I hate that.
"Okay," Jess whispers, leaning closer. "Act normal."
"I am normal."
"You're glaring at him."
"I'm preparing."
"For what?"
"I don't know yet."
Riley sighs. "You're both exhausting."
Caiden walks over like he's already decided how this is going to go, stopping just short of the table. Declan lingers slightly behind him, clearly entertained.
"This is it?" Caiden says, glancing around.
"This is it," I reply. "Try not to be disappointed."
"I'm managing my expectations."
"Good. Keep them low."
Jess presses her lips together like she's physically holding back commentary.
Declan drops into the chair next to Riley. "This is already better than I thought it would be."
"No one asked you," Caiden mutters, pulling out the chair across from me and sitting down.
There's a moment where neither of us says anything.
Which is a problem.
Because people are watching.
Filming.
Waiting.
Jess leans forward slightly, voice low but urgent. "You're supposed to be dating."
"I'm aware," I say under my breath.
"Then act like it."
I look at Caiden. He looks at me.
This is going terribly.
"So," I say finally, forcing something resembling a smile, "do you always show up late or was that just for dramatic effect?"
He leans back slightly, like he's settling into something. "I thought you'd appreciate the anticipation."
"I didn't."
"That's disappointing."
"Not for me."
Jess kicks me again.
Right.
We're supposed to be convincing.
I exhale quietly, shifting in my seat before leaning forward just enough to close some of the space between us.
"You could've at least pretended to be excited," I say, tone lighter this time.
"There's still time," he replies.
That's better.
Not good, but better.
Declan watches us like he's at a live performance. "Wow. The chemistry is... something."
"Don't narrate it," Caiden says.
"I'm just appreciating it."
Riley sips her drink. "You're making it worse."
"I'm making it entertaining."
I glance around briefly.
More phones.
More attention.
"People are staring," I mutter.
"Let them," Caiden says.
"That's easy for you to say."
"You started this."
"I didn't start this," I argue. "You were in the penalty box."
"You kissed me."
"You were available."
His mouth twitches slightly.
That's new.
Jess leans forward, smiling too brightly. "So, how did you guys meet?"
I look at her. She looks back, completely serious.
"We didn't," I say.
"We did," Caiden says at the same time.
We both pause. Then—
"We did," I repeat, adjusting smoothly. "Briefly."
"Memorably," he adds.
Declan claps once, quiet but enthusiastic. "There it is."
I glance at Caiden again, this time more carefully.
He's playing along.
Not well.
But not badly either.
"Do you even like hockey?" he asks, like it's part of the act.
I don't hesitate. "No."
Jess closes her eyes briefly.
Caiden raises an eyebrow. "Not even a little?"
"Not even slightly," I say. "It's aggressive ice ballet."
Declan chokes on his drink.
Riley turns away, shoulders shaking.
Caiden just looks at me. "Ice ballet."
"Yeah," I continue, warming up now. "There's sliding, there's dramatic falls, there's occasional fights for no reason. It's very theatrical."
"That's not what it is."
"That's exactly what it is."
"It's a sport."
"It's a performance."
"It's competitive."
"It's choreographed chaos."
He studies me for a second, then shakes his head like he's trying not to react. "You're unbelievable."
"I've been told that."
Jess leans toward Riley. "I think this is working."
Riley nods slightly. "Unfortunately, yes."
I glance around again. People are still watching.
Still filming.
But something's changed. It doesn't feel as awkward. It feels... intentional. Like we're not just sitting here anymore—we're part of something people are choosing to watch.
I don't know how I feel about that.
Caiden shifts slightly, leaning closer just enough that it looks natural from the outside.
"Try not to insult my entire sport," he says quietly.
"No promises."
"Just a little less."
"Why?"
"Because it makes this harder."
I tilt my head. "You're struggling?"
"I'm tolerating."
"That sounds about right."
There's a brief pause. Then—
"Smile," he mutters.
"I am smiling."
"Not like that."
"This is my face."
"Fix it."
I exhale, adjusting slightly, softening just enough that it probably looks more believable from a distance.
"Better?" I ask.
"Less concerning," he says.
"I'll take it."
Jess watches us like she's witnessing something historic. "You guys are terrifying."
"Thank you," I say.
"That wasn't a compliment."
"I'm choosing to take it as one."
Declan leans back in his chair. "I give it a week before this becomes real."
"It's not becoming real," I say immediately.
Caiden nods once. "Not happening."
"Good," I add.
"Great," he agrees.
There's a beat. Neither of us looks away right away.
Which is—
Not ideal.
I break it first, reaching for my drink like that somehow resets everything.
"This is still a bad idea," I say.
"Probably," he replies.
"But we're doing it anyway."
"Looks like it."
I glance around one last time.
The phones.
The whispers.
The attention that doesn't feel accidental anymore.
And then back at him. Still sitting there. Still part of this.
"Try to keep up," I say.
He almost smiles. "No promises."
Yeah.
That's definitely going to be a problem.