Chapter 15 Real Enough
L ena had spent the afternoon pretending not to worry about Nico’s wrist.
This was going badly.
Mostly because Nico Reyes had spent the afternoon pretending he did not have a wrist.
Which was impressive, in the way terrible coping mechanisms could be impressive when performed by stubborn athletes with pain tolerance, trust issues, and bone structure that made poor decisions look cinematic.
The trainer had called it a mild strain.
Nico had called it nothing.
Coach Hart had called it manageable if he followed protocol.
Lena had called it another secret he would have happily dragged behind him until it bled through the carpet.
Not out loud.
She was growing.
A little.
By seven that evening, the entire tennis team was packed inside the Westbridge student center for the Spring Athletics Showcase, a glossy donor-student event designed to remind everyone that college athletes were inspiring, wholesome, academically balanced, and absolutely not one viral shove away from administrative collapse.
There were banners.
There were lights.
There were branded cupcakes.
There was a photo wall covered in fake ivy and Westbridge-blue flowers.
There was also Nico, standing ten feet away from Lena with his taped wrist hidden in his pocket and his expression set to do not perceive me.
Naturally, everyone perceived him.
Lena stood near the registration table with Talia, wearing a soft green dress and a smile she had been holding so long her cheeks were starting to resent her. She had chosen the dress because it looked warm on camera without looking like she had tried too hard.
Nico had looked at it once when she arrived.
Only once.
But the glance had dropped from her face to her waist to her bare knees before snapping away with the kind of discipline that somehow made it worse.
She was not thinking about it.
She was thinking about engagement strategy.
And his wrist.
And the anonymous message.
And the fact that he had called her the girl everyone gets to hurt because she makes it easy to pretend they didn’t.
Which was rude.
Accurate.
Unforgivable.
Possibly the most intimate thing anyone had ever said to her.
Talia leaned close, her tablet tucked under one arm. “You two need one strong public moment tonight.”
Lena’s attention sharpened. “Define strong.”
“Relaxed. Couple-like. Believable.”
“I regret asking.”
“You always do.” Talia’s gaze shifted toward Nico. “Sentiment improved after the youth clinic post and the hoodie photo, but Savannah’s comments are still creating doubt. People are watching for cracks.”
“People need better hobbies.”
“I agree. Unfortunately, their bad hobbies create our data.”
Lena looked across the room.
Nico stood with Jace and two teammates near the athlete display boards. Jace was talking animatedly with a booster. Nico was silent, but not rudely so. More like he had rationed his words and did not intend to waste them on people wearing loafers indoors.
His eyes lifted.
Found hers.
The room did that thing again.
Shifted.
Softened at the edges.
Became too loud and too quiet at the same time.
Lena looked away first because she valued oxygen.
Talia made a thoughtful noise.
“Don’t,” Lena said.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You breathed like a woman forming conclusions.”
“I’m communications staff. Conclusions are my love language.”
Lena turned back to the registration table. “We are maintaining boundaries.”
“Are the boundaries in the room with us?”
“Talia.”
“I’m just saying, if the chemistry is fake, both of you deserve awards.”
Lena’s smile stayed in place.
Her stomach did not.
Across the room, a burst of laughter rose near the photo wall.
Savannah Price had arrived.
Of course she had.
She wore a silky ivory dress that made her look expensive and effortless, which was deeply annoying because some people truly committed to being obstacles in good lighting.
Her phone was already in her hand. Declan Vale stood beside her, one shoulder leaned against the wall, looking as clean and harmless as a knife washed after use.
Lena’s pulse tripped.
Declan’s eyes moved across the room and found Nico.
Nico’s entire body went still.
Again.
Lena saw it from thirty feet away.
The quick lock of his jaw.
The tightening through his shoulders.
The way his left hand shifted toward his right wrist before he caught himself.
Declan smiled.
Small.
Private.
Cruel.
Nico looked away first, but not because he was afraid.
Because he was trying.
And somehow that made Lena want to cross the room and put herself between them again.
Which was obviously not professional.
Talia followed Lena’s gaze and muttered, “Why does that boy always look like he’s auditioning to be somebody’s rich ex-husband?”
Despite herself, Lena laughed.
Nico’s eyes flicked back toward her.
He saw the laugh.
Then he saw Declan and Savannah watching her too.
Something dark moved through his expression.
Not jealousy.
No.
That would be absurd.
Temporary public relationship partners did not get jealous. They got strategically concerned about optics.
Lena was deciding whether to move toward Nico when Savannah beat her to it.
Savannah crossed the room like she had been born to interrupt other people’s peace. Declan followed at a lazy distance, apparently content to let someone else draw first blood.
“Lena,” Savannah said brightly. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you.” Lena smiled. “You look expensive.”
Savannah blinked.
Talia coughed into her hand and suddenly found her tablet fascinating.
Savannah recovered quickly. “That’s sweet.”
“It was accurate.”
Her smile sharpened. “I was just telling Declan how impressive this whole thing is. The turnaround on Nico’s image, I mean. One week, everyone thinks he’s violent. Now he’s giving boyfriend edits and youth clinic smiles.”
Lena’s fingers tightened around her phone.
“Public opinion changes when people see more context.”
“Or when they’re given a prettier distraction.”
There it was.
Not even subtle now.
Talia stepped forward. “Savannah, are you here as media or guest tonight?”
Savannah’s eyes stayed on Lena. “Guest. Mostly.”
“Then enjoy the cupcakes.”
Savannah smiled wider. “I will.”
She turned her attention across the room. “Though I have to say, Lena, you’re braver than I am.”
Lena knew better than to ask.
She asked anyway.
“How so?”
Savannah tilted her head. “Standing that close to someone who needs you more than he wants you.”
The words landed like a slap.
Not because Lena believed them.
Because they had been designed for the exact bruise she had not admitted existed.
Behind Savannah, Declan watched with lazy amusement.
Lena’s gaze moved to Nico.
He had started toward them.
Of course he had.
Jace was saying something to him, probably something wise like don’t commit murder under fluorescent lights, but Nico was already moving.
No.
No, no, no.
Phones were up.
People were watching.
Savannah had known exactly what she was doing.
If Nico reacted badly, the whole room would decide he had not changed at all.
Lena stepped away from Talia before she could stop herself.
Savannah’s eyes brightened.
Nico reached them a second later.
“What did you say?” he asked.
His voice was low.
Too low.
The kind of low that made conversations around them thin immediately.
Savannah lifted innocent brows. “I was complimenting Lena.”
“No, you weren’t.”
Lena touched Nico’s arm. “It’s fine.”
His eyes stayed on Savannah. “It’s not.”
Her heart did the stupid thing.
Again.
Because he was angry for her.
Because he had heard the wound in a sentence nobody else would have noticed.
Because apparently Nico Reyes had decided defending her was worth risking his barely repaired image.
Idiot.
Sweet, reckless idiot.
Declan drifted closer, hands in his pockets. “Careful, Reyes. People are filming.”
Nico’s gaze snapped to him.
The entire room inhaled.
Lena felt the moment tilt.
There were some seconds you could feel becoming headlines.
This was one of them.
Declan smiled. “Wouldn’t want your girlfriend’s hard work going to waste.”
Nico took one step forward.
Lena moved faster.
She stepped in front of him, turned, and put both hands on his chest.
His attention dropped to her instantly.
Not Declan.
Not Savannah.
Her.
“Nico,” she said softly.
His chest rose beneath her palms.
Once.
Twice.
The room blurred at the edges.
He was warm. Solid. Tense enough to break. His eyes searched hers, furious and afraid and so focused on her that Lena forgot what she had planned to say.
Something like breathe.
Something like don’t give him what he wants.
Something like please trust me.
Savannah’s voice floated from behind her, sweet and deadly.
“Aww. Crisis management in real time.”
The crowd murmured.
Lena knew what came next.
Speculation.
More posts.
More doubt.
More people deciding Nico was only calm because she was restraining him, not because he was trying.
More people calling her handler instead of girlfriend.
More people calling him dangerous.
She made a decision so quickly she barely recognized it as one.
Lena rose on her toes and kissed him.
It was supposed to be tactical.
That was the first lie.
It was supposed to be brief.
That was the second.
Her mouth touched his, and Nico went completely still.
For one terrible heartbeat, she thought she had miscalculated everything. That he would pull away. That he would feel used. That he would hate her for making his mouth another tool in her campaign.
Then his hand came to her waist.
Not rough.
Not for show.
Careful first, as if asking a question he did not have time to say.
Lena should have ended it there.
She did not.
She leaned in.
And Nico Reyes kissed her back.
The room vanished.
The lights. The phones. Savannah. Declan. Talia. Her father somewhere in the crowd, probably combusting in real time.
Gone.