Seven
Reece
“Maybe we should go somewhere that serves alcohol,” Miles suggests.
Drew pushes open the door to Sip Society, the resident coffee house near campus, while I snort at my best friend. “It’s ten in the morning.”
Miles shrugs as we trail inside after Drew. “You’re going through a tough time. Just trying to be supportive.”
I roll my eyes but say nothing as we stroll into the eclectic and ever-busy cafe.
Even when school isn’t in session it’s bustling, busy with Wing Haven locals or students who live in town year-round.
As always, it’s a comforting space littered with potted plants and filled to the brim with Wing Haven students.
Vinyl records and local art hang up along the walls, and the round tables and mismatched chairs are always a welcomed sight.
The ever-changing menu is written in chalk on a blackboard, hung proudly behind the mahogany counter that houses the same three baristas on a loop throughout the week.
Looks like the barista today is Astrid, the spunky junior with short, black hair who Miles always loves to flirt with .
“Hey, guys!” She greets us as we walk up. “What can I get for you?”
“I know you always say no but I’ll start with your number?” Miles tries for the thousandth time. Astrid chuckles and rolls her chestnut eyes as they delve into their weekly flirtatious chatter.
Miles is a lot of things, but no one can claim he’s a quitter.
In all honesty, I could use a beer or two, but before noon on a Wednesday seems a bit excessive.
My mind has been going crazy since Stacy walked out of practice yesterday, since she walked away from me outside of the gym.
I was finally starting to really get a glimpse inside of her mind.
Her admitting the defeat she feels concerning her sister is the only time Stacy’s ever talked to me about anything real, the only time she’s spoken to me without disdain.
Well, she still spoke to me with disdain, but you get the picture.
After she walked away, practice was cut short.
Everyone awkwardly shuffled away after Stacy’s uncharacteristic outburst and Wednesday is our rest day so I didn’t get to see her this morning.
I can’t tell if I’m anxious or excited to see her again at practice in the morning, but I will get to the bottom of Stacy’s feelings.
I will see something beyond her shiny exterior and her perfectionism.
Stacy Dunn is not a robot and yesterday was the first time I’ve ever actually gotten proof of that.
She seems so upset about her sister, about being second best to her older sibling. Stacy is always proper and polished but yesterday she was raw. She was real, she was sad, she was…
Desperate …
Desperate enough to tell her parents she has a boyfriend to bring to a family dinner. But just how desperate is desperate?
My friends’ words bounce around in my head.
I’ve tried to push them aside and convince myself that pretending to be some poor chick’s boyfriend won’t end well, but I got wind late last night about an engagement party happening in Cincinnati soon.
An engagement party full of old friends and family, a party completely centered around Tashia and Evan.
A party that everyone will expect me at, no doubt. My attendance will be mandatory, as will be the smile on my face. It’d sure be nice to smile with a beautiful girl on my arm.
“For you?” Astrid turns to me, interrupting my thoughts and shooting me a bright smile.
I stammer through my order, my mind elsewhere. The barista whips up our coffee orders and we’re on our way out when Miles stops abruptly, Drew and I running into his backside.
“Your brake lights are fucking broken, dude,” I complain while Drew groans, the lid popped off of his to-go medium roast.
“Mae!” Miles exclaims, ignoring the two of us to head towards a mustard yellow couch tucked away in the corner.
I flick off some of the iced Americano from my hand that spilled due to our collision and look up at the company Mae is keeping. She’s perched next to Jamie, both of them nibbling on bagels and facing a girl in a red, leather armchair.
A girl with a head full of blonde hair tied tightly back into a smooth ponytail.
If Stacy didn’t wear her hair so tight, maybe she’d be in a better mood more.
I join Miles, Drew hot on my heels just in time to hear Miles and Mae in the throes of their classic combative bickering.
“Would you sit and spin, Gray?” Mae spits, her blue eyes narrowing on my best friend.
Miles snorts. “Only if you ask nicely.”
“I’m dating your teammate,” she reminds him, sipping what appears to be tea out of a coral mug.
“You are?” Stacy challenges her best friend from the armchair, glancing sideways at me but giving no other acknowledgment to my presence.
Mae waves her hand flippantly. “Technicalities.”
“You’re breaking my heart, baby. I’ve been asking for a date for three years now,” Miles continues, his smirk suggesting his confidence isn’t shaken by Mae’s constant rejection of his advances.
“Yes, you’ve been asking me, the barista, every girl on the cheer team, every puck bunny you come across at hockey parties, and everyone at Wing Haven who has a vagina. Walk away before I fold you like a lawn chair.”
“My money’s on Mae,” I lean down to mumble to Stacy.
She returns my joke with an icy glare.
“I’ll take that bet,” Drew whispers beside me.
“I’ll wear you down eventually, Wilcox. Don’t you worry,” Miles promises, perching on the armrest of the couch as Mae tries to swat him off.
“Yeah, let me know when hell freezes over,” she huffs as Jamie, Miles, Drew, and I all snicker.
Mae’s hatred for Miles isn’t lost on me.
They’ve known each other for a few years now thanks to Mae’s on-again off-again relationship with another hockey player.
I’m not necessarily certain where her disdain for Miles came from, but it seems she hasn’t come to understand that Miles doesn’t give up when he knows what he wants.
He just happens to want Mae for reasons unbeknownst to me.
“Sure, babe,” Miles goes on, his feathers unruffled. “Just know that I—”
“Finish that sentence and wear the rest of my peppermint tea,” Mae threatens before she moves her attention from Miles to us, her glower immediately morphing into a smile as she waves with her everything bagel. “Hi boys!” she says brightly.
I cock a brow at their odd interaction as Drew greets her. “Mae. Terrifying as always,” he says as I fist bump Jamie.
“And you’re looking gorgeous this morning, Stace,” I greet Stacy, craning down my neck to look at her while the others fall into nonsensical chatter.
She peers up at me, her ice blue eyes narrowed as her full lips pout. My heart stutters in response to her mouth and, Jesus, I wish I knew what I did to deserve to have someone as beautiful as Stacy to look at every day.
I also wish I knew what I did to make her dislike me so much, but that’ s a separate issue to mull over.
“Sorry, did I wake up in an alternate universe where the two of us are friends?” she spits, going back to her latte.
“Whoa, what’s with the hostility, Dunn?” Jamie says, overhearing our conversation and coming to my rescue.
She gives him an eye roll in response but Jamie’s right. Stacy’s always a little cold. She’s always got a little bite to her, an attitude way too large for a girl of her small stature. But she’s even more so this morning, her jabs a little more cutting.
Which makes me wonder just how much this situation with her sister is affecting her.
And what she might be willing to do about it.
I bite my lip and deliberate as Stacy throws herself back into the group conversation. Asking this woman to fake date me just might get me kicked in the nuts, but she already hates me. I’ve really got nothing to lose.
“Come to the bathroom with me,” I cut into her conversation.
“The bathroom?” she squeals as I haul her out of her chair and start toting her away.
I shrug. “Stunt buddy stuff.”
“I don’t know what kind of stunt buddy stuff you have in mind but I’m sure it can be done outside of a bathroom,” she protests but still follows me across the small cafe.
I can feel the stunned stares of our friends penetrating into our backs but I press on, ushering Stacy down the slender hallway to the bathroom alcove.
“What could you possibly need my assistance with in the restroom?” she demands as we turn to face each other outside of the bathroom door, my hand still wrapped lightly around her wrist.
I should let go. I know I should let go. But her skin on my own feels good and the smell of peaches is tickling my nose.
“I’ve got a weird mole I need you to look at,” I deadpan.
She rears back slightly and her reaction has me doubling over in laughter.
Snatching her hand away from my hold, she huffs and folds her arms over her chest. She’s wearing a light gray tank top and denim shorts, her toned body tanned from the summer sun.
It’s such a simple ensemble but it makes me weak in the knees regardless.
“Don’t worry, Dunn. I have plenty of women begging to see my ass, so I’ll just ask one of them about my mole,” I joke, nudging her shoulder with my own.
She narrows her eyes, no sign of humor in her face. “Can I help you, Taylor?”
I blow out a noisy breath, suddenly worried about the state of my testicles and what Stacy may do to them after I present my proposition.
I mean, I’d let her do a lot of different things to them, but that’s neither here nor there.
“Hear me out,” I start.
Stacy groans.
“I haven’t even started talking!”
“Yet you’ve said too much,” she shoots back.
I roll my lips together and hesitantly place my hands on her shoulders. She shivers slightly under my touch and it’s a reaction I revel in for just a second. “Please? Give me two minutes,” I beg. My voice is soft, soft enough that she can hopefully sense my sincerity as I shoot her a pleading look.
She sighs in surrender, dropping her arms to her sides. “Fine.”
“Okay.” I relax, mimicking her movement and dropping mine as well. “Before you freak out, please know that what I’m going to ask you benefits the both of us.”
Surprisingly, she waits.
“Be my girlfriend,” I go on.
Stacy’s eyes go wide for a millisecond before manic laughter tumbles from her lips. She doubles over, her hands on her knees as she cackles. The laughter is so intense that she starts to clutch at her sides, tears welling up in her eyes .
Not necessarily the reaction men want when asking women out, fake or not.
Stacy glances up at me and realizes I’m not laughing along. Her face drops as she straightens, clearing her throat as her eyes widen again. “Holy shit, you’re serious?”
“Let me explain.”
“I am not dating you,” she shrieks.
“First of all, don’t sound so appalled,” I say, placing a hand over my chest like her reaction is wounding me. “And second of all, I’m not asking you to date me. I’m asking you to pretend date me.”
Stacy stares at me incredulously for a beat of silence. “That’s even more ridiculous!”
“Is it?” I challenge.
“How the hell would being your fake girlfriend benefit either of us, Reece? We want to kill each other on a good day, a pretend relationship would be a train wreck.”
I smirk. “You seem to be forgetting that our hostility is one-sided. I’m actually obsessed with you, baby.”
She rolls her eyes because it sounds like a joke.
It’s not.
“I need someone to bring to all my brother’s wedding events,” I start to explain. “I can’t show up single and get pitied by all my relatives. I’m okay, I really am, but I need to prove it. I don’t want anyone to think I’m still hung up on my ex, I want everyone to know that I’m happy.”
Stacy gapes. “And how does this arrangement benefit us both?”
I smirk because I’ve got her. I know I’ve got her. “You need a boyfriend for dinner on Friday. I’m your guy.”
I prop my hands up on my hips, smug because I know I’ve crushed this proposal.
It makes too much sense, it’s too logical for someone as analytical as Stacy to pass up.
She glances around the alcove we’re in, her eyes lingering on the abstract painting of a naked lady next to the women’s bathroom, and I can see the gears turning in her head.
Finally, she surrenders with a sigh and looks back at me. “Fine. Dinner Friday, a few other family events of mine, and extra stunt practice together outside of our regular schedule. If you can uphold your end of the bargain, I’ll be your fake girlfriend and help make your ex jealous.”
“Not making my ex jealous,” I remind her.
I want it to be very clear to everyone that I have no intention of winning Tashia back.
It’s especially important to me that Stacy knows that for whatever reason.
Stacy rolls her eyes and I’m incredibly surprised her excessive eye rolling isn’t labeled as a health risk at this point. “Whatever you say, Taylor. But we’re going to set some ground rules. Got it?”
My grin widens. “Let’s hear ‘em.”
“We only touch in front of family. This is not a friends with benefits situation. Understand?”
“Stacy, please,” I snort. “That thought hasn’t even crossed my mind.”
It has. It most certainly has.
“I’ll come up with our cute little love story and tell it on my own terms when we’re with my family. Deal?”
“Anything else?” I lean up against the wall and let my eyes lazily peruse her body. She’s got a scowl etched into her face, a spitfire of a woman standing at a resounding five feet tall; a girl you absolutely don’t want to fuck with .
Yet here I am. Fucking with her.
Stacy takes a step into me, the heat of her body surrounding mine. “This is fake , Taylor. Completely fictional. Don’t get it twisted.”
I draw in a breath through my mouth to avoid inhaling her scent. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”
Except she might. Because being around Stacy Dunn in any regard is already a struggle. I already get wobbly knees and heart palpitations when she enters a room and suddenly, I’m not so sure I’ll be able to successfully compartmentalize the different facets of our relationships.
How much effort will it take to remind myself that our relationship isn’t real when Stacy’s hanging all over me?
Guess I’ll find out.
“Well, then.” Stacy stands tall, stepping back from my body and sticking out her hand. “I look forward to doing business with you, Reece.”
I take her warm hand in mine. “Please, Stace, we’re dating now. Call me babe.”