Chapter 10
Noah
“Drinks at Carter’s,” someone shouts over the noise in the change rooms.
I can’t wipe the grin off my face as shouts of affirmation fill the room. Drinks at the campus bar is the perfect way to celebrate.
We fucking won.
Not only that, but it was a clean sheet. Kincaid was on fire tonight, saving everything that came his way.
My pulse spikes as our eyes meet across the room. There’s no doubt he’s my type—tall, blond, chiselled—but while he’s out and proud, I’m firmly shut in the closet, still coming to terms with how to navigate this.
I feel like a dick over the way I’ve treated him this past eighteen months, all because I couldn’t get past my hang-ups with my dad.
If I’m honest with myself, the reason for my animosity was straight-up jealousy.
I’m jealous he can be who wants and fuck who he wants with no fallout.
I’ve had to hide who I am my entire life because it doesn’t fit with my family’s narrative, and I’m tired.
My thoughts drift to my Romeo from the club. He’s safe. A mystery stranger who doesn’t know who I am or who my family is. A hidden secret who won’t judge me for only being myself within the walls of Euphoria.
Does only seeing him once a month suck? Yeah, but I can’t risk what happened back in Perth happening here.
Suppressing those memories, I hurry to shower and change, eager to celebrate with my teammates. This is our turning point. I can feel it, and despite half the team being new this year, we’re going to hold on to the Championship Cup for the second year in a row. I’ll make sure of it.
After checking in with the coaches, I head for the car park with Dane and Jasper. It’s mostly empty now, with only the players’ cars scattered across the bitumen.
Zac’s talking to a couple of girls beside his muscle car, one of them wearing his name on her back. His hands move as he speaks, and I wonder what has him so animated. My chest squeezes as I watch him so at ease with who he is. Girl or guy, I guess it all comes naturally to you when you’re bi.
I’m so focused on my teammate, I don’t notice Jasper and Dane have gone quiet until someone roughly grabs my arm, and I come face to face with my father.
Shit.
“D-dad,” I stammer, wincing at the tight grip on my forearm. “What are you doing here?”
His angry eyes don’t leave my face as he snaps at my housemates. “Excuse me, boys. I need to have a word with my son.”
My stomach sinks at the venom in his tone, but I nod at Jasper and Dane, handing the latter my bag, not wanting an audience for whatever vitriol I’m about to cop. “I’ll meet you guys at Carter’s.”
They exchange a look, but don’t say anything, casting glances over their shoulders as they walk to Jasper’s car.
Wrenching my arm from his grip, I square my shoulders. “We won the game.”
He snorts. “I saw.”
I fight to hide my confusion. “Then what the hell is all this about?” I gesture to the red mark on my bicep.
“I told you not to embarrass the family,” he growls.
“How the f—heck did I do that?” I snap, struggling to contain my anger. “I shut down my player, and we won the game. What more do you want?”
“What’s going on between you and the goalkeeper?”
My jaw clenches. “Nothing.”
“That’s not what it looked like from where I was sitting.”
I throw my hands up in frustration. “Well, maybe you need to get your eyes checked, old man. All you saw was a team celebrating a fucking clean sheet.”
My head snaps back and pain blooms across my cheek before the sound of my father backhanding me reaches my ears. I drop my head, bringing my hand up to cup my cheek.
“Shit, Noah.” There’s a panicked edge to Dad’s voice. He’s never hit me before.
“Hey!” a familiar voice shouts.
I groan.
Fuck. This will end badly.
“What the fuck, Noah!” Zac demands. “Are you okay?”
His strong hand grips my shoulder, but I shrug him off. He needs to get out of here. Now.
“Fuck off, Kincaid. Don’t touch me.”
He reels back like I punched him, his eyes darting from me to my father, who’s watching the interaction intently, likely trying to work out if this guy is banging his son.
I need to fix this, and quick.
Noticing the two girls still standing by his car, I narrow my eyes on my goalkeeper. “Get your arse back to your girlfriend,” I tell him, nodding towards his car, emphasising the word for my dad’s benefit and praying Zac gets the hint. “There’s nothing to see here.”
His brow furrows, and for a moment, I worry he’s about to open his big mouth. Thankfully, he gives a stiff nod and backs away.
I let out a sigh of relief, despite knowing he’ll have questions later, before turning back to my dad.
“This isn’t like Perth. I told you, I’m dating someone. She’s very much a woman.” Bile rises in my throat at the lie, but I force it down.
The look on Carl Bentley’s face tells me he doesn’t believe me. “Where is this girlfriend, then?”
“At Carter’s with her friends. I’m meeting her there.”
My old man narrows his eyes. “Don’t forget how easy it was for me to get rid of the last problem,” he hisses. “You and your girlfriend will meet me for breakfast at nine-thirty sharp. The bakery on Talbert Street.”
“Yes, sir,” I choke out, but he’s already spinning on his heel and stalking across the car park.
I want to scream out my frustration, but he’s still within earshot, and another glance towards Zac’s car tells me he’s still watching. Fuck, fuck, fuck. What am I going to do now?
I heave a deep sigh and start towards Carter’s. I’m not in the mood to celebrate, but now I have to find some girl to pretend to be my girlfriend so my dad will see he’s got nothing to worry about with his precious son’s sexuality, then he’ll go back to Perth.
This is why I’ll never be free like Zac.
The ten-minute walk across campus to the bar isn’t long enough. When I arrive, I still haven’t figured out what I’m going to do about breakfast tomorrow, or what I’ll say about the mark that’s forming on my throbbing cheekbone. Maybe I can put it down to the game.
Carter’s is packed when I push through the doors, and I glance around, looking for my teammates. Alex Ritter is over by the bar, so I head for him, forcing a smile as people congratulate me on tonight’s win.
“Two tequila slammers,” I say to the girl behind the bar, and she grins, placing the shot glasses in front of me. She pours the clear liquor, and I knock them back one after the other.
“Damn,” Ritter comments, taking a swig of his beer while I order a whiskey dry and swipe my card. “Someone’s ready to party.”
“Something like that,” I mutter, scanning the bar while I wait for my drink.
Being a game night, the bar is full of Banshees—scantily clad girls wearing team jerseys hoping to score with one of the players.
A few sport my name and number on their backs, and it only makes my chest tighten.
I need a fake girlfriend for tomorrow, and though a Banshee would jump at the chance, I can’t explain why I need their help.
How do I tell them I need a cover for my father questioning my sexuality without telling them the truth?
Ritter and I join the rest of our teammates, who are gathered around a few high-top tables in the corner. Dane’s already got a chick practically mauling his face off, and Jasper’s chatting to a girl dressed in jeans and a pink top. Looks like I’ll be sleeping with my headphones on tonight.
“Everything okay?” Kincaid mutters, leaning close so no one overhears.
“Fine,” I say shortly. His eyes linger on my cheek, but I turn away. “Just drop it, Kincaid. It’s none of your business.”
He sighs before turning away to talk to Ritter.
I sip my drink as I catalogue every female option available to me here.
It’s futile. I don’t trust any of them not to ask questions about why the captain of the Beckford U soccer team needs a fake girlfriend. Not to mention, I wouldn’t put it past my father to make underhanded gay comments, and I really don’t want rumours spreading around campus.
I spot a familiar face near the dartboards, laughing with her friends. Is it a coincidence that she’s here tonight? Or was she hoping to run into me?
Brushing a hand through my hair, I push my way through the crowd and stop next to her. “Hey, Hannah.”
She looks up at me warily. “Hey, Noah. Great game tonight.”
“Thanks.” I glance at her friends, then back at her. “Can we talk? In private?”
Hannah hesitates, but she slides off her chair and follows me to a free booth, which is a little quieter and gives us a chance to talk without being overheard. As I slide in across from her, I look over at my teammates and see Zac watching us, but he turns away when our gazes meet.
“What happened to your face?” Hannah asks.
“Stray elbow in the second half,” I lie easily.
“Ouch.”
“Yep.” I rub the back of my neck. “Listen, I’m sorry that I led you on with our date last night.
My life is really complicated, and I’m not looking for a girlfriend at the moment.
” Or ever, but I don’t need to tell her that.
I take a deep breath. “In saying that, my dad is in town, and I have a huge favour to ask.”
She lifts a brow, and I don’t blame her. I don’t have the right to ask her anything, but she’s the only woman I know semi-well in Beckford, and after our date, I feel comfortable around her.
“You have every right to tell me to shove it and never talk to me again, but I kind of hope you won’t because I like you, and I’m hoping we’re friends,” I ramble, trying to think of a reason for me to ask this of her without giving away my secret.
“You like me?” she asks, amusement coating her tone.
“As a friend,” I confirm, wanting to make sure she’s under no illusion this will become anything more. “A good friend. I’m sorry I can’t give you anything more than that.”
“I appreciate your honesty, and while I won’t lie and say I’m not disappointed, I’d like to be your friend.” Her lips tug into a smile. “Your good friend.”
Relief floods through me that she’s not mad at me after shutting her down after our date, but I still don’t know how to word my request without offending her.
I just want to be your friend, but will you fake date me tomorrow morning to get my dad off my back because he thinks I’m gay?
While I like her, I’m not ready to share my deepest, darkest secrets with her yet.
When I don’t say anything, Hannah gives a nervous laugh. “Okay, spill it, Noah. What’s this huge favour?”
“My dad’s in town,” I say, stalling.
“We’ve ascertained that,” she says, nodding. “And?”
I draw a deep breath and let it all out in a single breath, the words melding together. “I need you to be my fake girlfriend to keep him off my back.”
She blinks. “I’m sorry, what?”
I run a hand over my face and repeat the words, slower this time. “Will you pretend to be my girlfriend over breakfast with me and my dad tomorrow?”
She stares at me like I have two heads. “Let me get this straight. You don’t want to date me because your life is really complicated, but you want me to be your fake girlfriend in front of your dad?”
“That pretty much sums it up.”
Her face scrunches in confusion. “Why?”
Shit. I need to think fast. It needs to be something believable, but also something that won’t naturally come up in conversation.
“He, uh…” I glance at the television above the bar, seeing an ad for the latest season of The Bachelor, and a crazy idea pops into my head.
“He wants to marry me off to one of his business partner’s daughters to, um, strengthen the company or some bullshit.
I’m almost finished school, and he’s been hounding me about the engagement and moving back to Perth, so I kind of told him I was seeing someone. ”
“But you don’t want a real girlfriend?”
I shake my head. “Sorry. Like I told you last night, I’m not in the right headspace to be in a relationship right now.”
At least not the kind my father would approve of.
She bites down on her lower lip as she contemplates everything I’ve just dropped on her.
I sit silently, my knee bouncing under the table as I wait.
“What would this fake relationship entail?”
Hope sparks in my chest.
“You’ll have breakfast with me and my dad in the morning and sell the relationship so he lays off for a while.”
“That’s it?”
I nod. “That’s it.”
She taps her manicured fingers on the table. “How long will this fake relationship last?”
“As long as my dad’s in town.”
“Okay, so fill me in on all the details of our relationship.”
My lips tug into a grin. “You’re going to help me out?”
“Sure, why not? So, where did we meet? How long have we been together?”
As I reach across the table and grip Hannah’s hand, I lift my head and meet Zac’s curious gaze from across the bar. Something twists in my gut, but I push it down and focus back on my fake girlfriend.
I don’t know if this will work, but desperate times call for desperate measures.