5. Ava
five
Ava
I’m not sure I made the right decision. Quite frankly, I wonder if I thought it through at all. Here I am, in a sticky situation, agreeing to be Sebastian’s fake girlfriend.
“I’ll make it worth it?” Where does he get off? But also, what was I thinking? I chastise myself for letting that one statement get to me so much.
The best thing to do is just call him and tell him I can’t do it. I know he said he would handle my father, but it won’t be easy getting him to okay me “dating” Sebastian. It won’t end well for either of us.
I pick up my phone and notice I have a message from Annie. Upon clicking on it, I see my face plastered on a news clip. The paparazzi had taken a picture of Sebastian planting a kiss on my cheek.
Of course. Why am I even surprised?
My phone begins to ring. It is Annie .
“You need to turn on Channel 8 now,” she says. I can hear the urgency in her voice.
Without questioning her, I turn on my TV to see my Facebook profile picture with the caption “Sebastian’s New Score.”
I can’t believe my eyes. My stomach sinks as my heart pounds in my chest.
“How could this have happened?” I rush to close all my blinds, afraid the paparazzi are still watching me even now.
“You’re famous!” Annie says cheerfully. Meanwhile, I couldn’t be more upset.
“Are you freaking kidding me? This is not what I expected.” I pace around the room, feeling the anxiety rise inside me. My hands shake as I grip the phone tighter.
“Well, what did you expect? If you’re with Sebastian Kane, you’re kind of newsworthy,” Annie says. Her tone is teasing, but I’m too frazzled to see the humor.
She’s right. I should have known better. I should have expected the worst. The paparazzi followed us around the whole night. Surely, they were going to make it a big deal.
“Now what do I do?” My mind has shut down, and I can’t think of anything to make the matter any less painful.
“If I were you, I’d enjoy my fifteen minutes of fame,” Annie laughs. I can tell she is loving every moment of this .
“Well, I’m not you, so…” I snap, ending the call abruptly. I know she means well, but I need someone who can offer me solid advice on how to get out of this sticky mess.
“God, I hope my dad hasn’t seen this yet,” I mutter, throwing myself facedown into a pillow and letting out a muffled scream. The thought of explaining this to him sends a shiver down my spine.
As if on cue, my phone vibrates on the nightstand with a rapid fire of calls labeled “Coach Dad.”
I can’t face the world or my dad right now. Not when all eyes are suddenly on me for being seen as Sebastian Kane’s newest “score.”
After six missed calls, I finally give in and answer.
“Ava, Sebastian Kane?” is the first thing my father says before I can even get a word in. His tone is sharp, and I can feel the weight of his disapproval already.
I grab a bottle of wine and pour myself a generous glass.
“Hello to you too, Dad,” I say, feigning nonchalance as if my fake relationship with his star player wasn’t plastered all over the news.
This ought to be a good enough excuse to get drunk.
“How long has this been going on?” he demands .
“Not long. We’re just getting to know each other and enjoying each other’s company.” At least that’s some semblance of the truth.
“He’s a…nice guy,” I add, hoping it makes things more believable somehow.
My father is silent, but I can sense his displeasure through the phone. The tension between us is suffocating. I wonder if he can sense my own turmoil.
Without thinking, I down the entire contents of the glass and pour myself another.
“Dad, don’t worry.” Because it’s all fake.
I sense he’s about to say something else, but before he does, I tell him I love him and hang up.
“How the hell did I get myself into this?” I sigh, the weight of regret pressing down on me.
If it hadn’t been for Sebastian and his dumb idea, none of this would have happened. It’s no coincidence that misfortune seems to follow me every time I run into him, like the Grim Reaper with a charming grin.
I can’t imagine going out in public, facing the world, and being known as Sebastian’s latest “fresh pick.” I clearly didn’t think this through, and now my mind is consumed with regret.
The doorbell rings, and I jump up, my heart pounding.
Please don’t be paparazzi. Please don’t be paparazzi. Please …
I slowly approach the door and peek through the peephole to see who’s standing outside my apartment.
It’s worse than paparazzi; it’s Sebastian.
“Go away!” I call out, hoping he’ll leave me alone.
“Open the door, Ava,” he calls back, his voice laced with amusement.
It must feel like another victory for him, being seen with someone new.
“I don’t want to see you. Go away,” I snap, determined to keep him out of my misery.
“I’m not going anywhere, so you might as well open up before your neighbors come out for autographs.”
I roll my eyes, but unfortunately, he’s right. If my neighbors see Sebastian Kane standing outside my door, I’ll never hear the end of it.
“What do you want?” I huff as I fling the door open.
Sebastian stands there with his signature pearly white smile, holding a bouquet of long-stemmed red roses.
“These are for you,” he says with a teasing grin, raising an eyebrow in playful exaggeration.
“I hope these come with an apology.” I glance at the roses, noticing there’s no note attached .
“I take it you’ve seen the news,” he says, walking in uninvited.
“Is there anyone who hasn’t?” I grunt, closing the door behind him.
“So, how does it feel to be Sebastian Kane’s girlfriend?” He smirks, clearly enjoying himself.
“I wouldn’t know, since I’m not your girlfriend,” I shoot back.
“Come on, Ava. Where’s your sense of humor?” He tucks the roses into a nearby vase and heads to the kitchen to fill it with water.
This is nothing new for Sebastian. He’s used to being on every magazine cover and newspaper. I, on the other hand, prefer to stay as far away from the spotlight as possible. Unless it’s for something I’ve earned, like an award for groundbreaking research.
“I think you need to leave before we make tomorrow’s headlines,” I say, opening the door for him to leave.
Sebastian casually closes the door.
“I have no intention of leaving. I was hoping to spend the day with you,” he says, his confidence almost unnerving.
I’m shocked. After everything that’s happened, he expects me to spend the day with him?
“Are you out of your mind?” I glare at him, trying to mask my unease .
Sebastian ignores me and heads toward the kitchen. I stand there, watching him with a mix of irritation and curiosity.
He glances back at me from the kitchen, his gaze sweeping over me.
“When was the last time you had a home-cooked meal?”
“What?” I’m caught off guard by the question. “I, um…” I falter, trying to recall the last time I didn’t rely on takeout.
With my hectic schedule and endless workload, cooking for myself has become a rarity.
Sebastian nods knowingly.
“I thought so,” he says, grabbing an apron that’s more decorative than functional. “Would you like to be my sous chef?”
I give him a skeptical look, and he adds, “It means second in command in the kitchen. It’s French.”
“I know what it means,” I reply, rolling my eyes. “I just didn’t know you knew what it meant.”
He laughs, his confidence unwavering, and for a moment, I’m left wondering if I’m annoyed or impressed by his persistence.
He’s making me uncomfortable, and he knows it—and loves it.
I’m grateful he can’t hear my thoughts as I watch him, thinking about how adorable he looks in an apron. No one would believe me if I told them Sebastian Kane was in my kitchen, getting ready to cook for me .
Guilt gnaws at me as I stand there, watching him rummage through my refrigerator in search of something to cook. I’m not exactly the grocery-shopping type and usually rely on takeout after work.
“You won’t find anything there,” I assure him.
Sebastian closes the fridge and smiles, holding a carton of eggs in his hands.
“Do you have any cheese?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
I head to the fridge and pull out a block of cheese hidden behind a half-empty gallon of milk.
“So, what are we making?” I ask, staring at the very short list of ingredients before us.
“You’ll see. Now get to grating that cheese,” he says, flipping a pan on the stove with practiced ease.
I watch as he whisks the eggs, seasons them, pours the mixture into the pan, and tosses it in the air. It’s clear he’s done this before.
“You’re pretty good,” I admit. If I didn’t know who he was, I could have mistaken him for a chef.
Minutes later, Sebastian serves me one of the best-looking cheese omelets I’ve ever seen.
“This looks…” I dig my fork in, pulling up a gooey strand of cheese .
“Amazing, right?”
I can’t help but agree as I take a bite. There isn’t much in his omelet, but somehow it all comes together perfectly.
“If your soccer career doesn’t work out, you might have a future in the kitchen,” I say, catching myself enjoying his food more than I want to.
“You haven’t seen anything yet. Wait till you taste my steak,” he says, picking up his phone to order groceries.
Within an hour, my kitchen is fully stocked from top to bottom.
“Why are you doing all this?” I ask, feeling a pang of guilt.
“I don’t know. I figured you wouldn’t want to go out until everything dies down. Besides, it’s kind of my fault anyway.”
“Sebastian Kane has a conscience?” I ask, half mock-shock, half genuine surprise. I notice his demeanor shift slightly, so I quickly add, “Thank you.”
He gives me a half-smile. For the first time, I see a different side to him. He’s cocky and sarcastic most of the time, but apparently, he’s also sweet and thoughtful. He’s so comfortable that he doesn’t seem to notice how much he’s let his guard down, showing me a side of him I never thought possible.
Sebastian marinates the steaks and tosses the salad while I bake cookies, one of the few things I know how to make. He comes close, pretending to watch what I’m doing, just to steal a handful of chocolate chips before retreating back to the stove.
It’s been a while since I’ve enjoyed a meal like this, and the fact that he took the time to make me food all day makes me glad he didn’t leave when I asked him to.
“I love this movie!” Sebastian calls out as he turns the TV on.
As the movie progresses, I notice Sebastian grows quiet, concentrating on an emotional scene. Tears well up in his eyes, and I can’t help but watch him more than the movie.
I’m amazed by how deeply he responds to the story. When a tear falls from the corner of his eye, I reach out and catch it. Sebastian snaps out of his trance and notices I’ve been watching him.
He looks embarrassed.
“How long have you been watching me?” he asks, wiping his eyes.
“Long enough,” I reply with a smirk.
“If you tell anyone, I’ll have to break up with you,” he teases.
I’ve always thought of Sebastian as shallow and egotistical, so seeing him like this feels strange. It’s almost unnatural. I’m not sure what to think.
Have I been wrong about him this whole time ?
He’s still the same guy who bet his teammates he could sleep with me, I remind myself.
“Thank you,” Sebastian says softly, kissing me on the cheek. His warm breath lingers on my neck.
He’s still the same guy, Ava.
Heat rushes through my body, leaving me momentarily speechless. I do my best not to let him see he’s gotten to me.
Why did he have to kiss me on the cheek?
“No, thank you. I…had a good time,” I admit reluctantly.
“So, are you coming to my practice tomorrow?” he asks, running a hand through his hair.
I grimace slightly.
“You have to. You’re officially my girlfriend now,” Sebastian teases, his lopsided smile causing somersaults in my stomach.
“I’ll be there,” I manage to say.
God, why did I say yes to him?
Oh, right. My research. Which I should be doing right now instead of standing next to a 6’2” soccer player who has a tendency to kiss me on the cheek.
With every inch of my being telling me no, I still can’t resist agreeing to his request. After all, the whole country thinks we’re a couple. I just have to remind myself not to let my guard down.
This is still Sebastian Kane we’re talking about.
Good God, it feels like I’ve entered the lion’s den, and now I have to make my bed there.