Chapter Fifteen
Asher Ryan - Grace
Wyatt’s hand flinches underneath mine. Then I realize I’ve had my hand over his for a long time, and I jerk it away, embarrassed. “I’m so sorry,” I say quickly. “I didn’t mean to leave my hand there. I—”
To my surprise, Wyatt firmly laces his fingers through mine again, sending my heart fluttering as he rests our joined hands on the tabletop for everyone to see. “I’m your boyfriend,” he says. “You can hold my hand anytime—and for however long you want.”
His warm brown eyes linger on mine, causing butterflies to form in my stomach. Nothing is said for a moment, and then he clears his throat.
“Why is Asher your football buddy?” he asks, and I notice there’s an edge to his voice. The same edge that appeared when he talked about Rob. “Won’t he be busy playing football?”
“It’s more for the party after the game,” I say, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “Or weekday stuff, if we have it. But it’s weird, because he thinks I’m dating you. I mean, we got along as lab partners, but Asher never showed an interest in me. So why now?”
Wyatt lifts our entwined hands off the table. “Because of this.”
“What? What do you mean?”
He puts our hands back down, but this time, his thumb slowly drags across the top of my knuckles. The move is sweet and intimate, and as soon as I feel the pad of his thumb stroking my skin, the butterflies go manic in my stomach.
“For some guys, there’s a thrill in a chase,” Wyatt explains as his thumb continues to move across my knuckles.
“He saw that I had you, so now he wants you. I thought he was a good dude, but the fact that he asked to be your football buddy after he saw you with me?” His jaw tightens in anger. “That’s bullshit.”
He. Is. Jealous.
JEALOUS.
And for some reason, the fact that my fake boyfriend is jealous of another guy being interested makes me want to stand up and do a backflip off this chair.
I pause. There are so many things wrong in that sentence that I burst out laughing when I think about it.
Wyatt’s thumb stops moving. “What?” he asks, his dark brows forming into a crease. “It is bullshit, Grace. He doesn’t know we’re fake, so that makes this real shitty. I don’t trust him.”
My elation abruptly dries up. Wyatt can’t be jealous of something that isn’t real. Something that he doesn’t want.
“I’m going to have Sebastian look out for you,” he continues, his jaw now set in a determined fashion.
I laugh. He scowls.
“Wy. I can take care of myself. Besides, how much can he do? If he makes a move, I’ll have to remind him I’m not interested in anyone but you.”
His eyes meet mine. I feel as if I can’t breathe when he looks at me like that.
Suddenly the corner of his mouth quirks up. “Oh?”
I can’t stop the smile that forms on my lips. “Yes. I’ll tell him how you’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”
Wyatt’s expression grows serious. “What is everything you’ve ever wanted? For real?”
I hesitate. All I can hear is my heart thudding against my ribs. How do I explain this to him? How do I tell him I didn’t know I wanted anything until I met him?
I can’t tell him that. He would end this fake relationship as soon as I admitted that to him. He didn’t sign up for a relationship. Wyatt’s been clear that’s the last thing he wants.
All he wants is to play hockey.
All I wanted was to ruin the bet.
My heart stops beating as a realization hits me.
I don’t want this to end. I don’t want to lose him.
“Hey,” Wyatt says, jarring me from my panicked thoughts. “Are you okay?”
I blink. I glance down at his large hand entwined with mine, and I want this. Even if it’s for a few more weeks, I so desperately want this.
“Sorry. Got distracted trying to sort out the order of everything I ever wanted in a guy,” I say, forcing a smile on my face. “It’s a long list.”
He grins. My heart resumes beating the second I see it.
He closes his laptop. “This sounds serious. Go on.”
I look at Wyatt, thinking of what I want. Suddenly, the words come easily to me. Because I’m going to tell him everything I’ve found in him.
“I want someone who listens. Really listens, not just half listens or acts like they’re listening when, in reality, they might already be thinking of what they’re going to say next.
I mean, even if I’m talking about a move I’m working on in the gym for a routine, I want to know my boyfriend heard me.
Or if I’m talking about Mini Eggs, or giving an update about the general—”
“Who is the general?” Wyatt interrupts.
I grin. “Kaitlyn.”
“Your president?”
“Yep. She’s militant about Phi Mu Phi. We should all breathe it like air, and if we aren’t up to that standard, she rips you a new one.”
He shakes his head, an amused smile on his face. “I bet your chapter meetings are so fun,” he says dryly.
I chuckle at that. “All she’s missing is a massive map of Greek Row and a pointer stick, and then her discussions of how we’re going to tackle each top-tier fraternity for Ocean Cove sorority domination would be perfection.”
Wyatt laughs, and I do, too. “So what else?” he asks.
“What else what?”
“What else is on your list?” he says, taking another sip of his iced coffee.
“Oh, I won’t bore you with it.”
“Gracie?”
My stupid heart leaps. Everyone calls me Gracie, but why does it feel different when he says it?
“Yeah?”
“I really want to know.”
***
I walk down Greek Row, feeling the sunshine dance across my skin on this beautiful Southern California day.
I see Phi Mu Phi up ahead, with the roses tumbling down over our sign and the sweeping green lawn.
Music comes from some open windows, but it’s early evening now, and the street, for the most part, is quiet.
People are having dinner, doing some studying, and getting that serious bummer of a vibe that the weekend is truly over, and we all go back to class tomorrow.
But not me.
I feel as if I’m floating down the sidewalk. Everything looks more beautiful. The flowers are more vibrant, the grass greener, the birds even sound more musical. I laugh. I can practically picture myself as Snow White, singing, with a cute bird coming to land on my hand.
And it’s all because of Wyatt Jacobs.
I adjust the grip on my backpack. This ended up being a waste of a study date—I didn’t write a single word after the portion Wyatt read, and he didn’t read anything else for his business class.
Instead, we talked. For hours. We even got second iced coffees.
I told Wyatt everything on my list for a boyfriend, and he never grasped that I was listing qualities he already had. Then I turned the tables on him—prefacing it with the fact that I understood he doesn’t want a girlfriend and might have never considered making a list—but he played along.
And he listed qualities I know I have. Which was wonderful and hideous.
Wonderful—and what has put me in a Disney mood that practically makes me want to twirl down this sidewalk—is that he looked me in the eyes, held my hand, and told me qualities I already possess.
Wyatt said he needs someone who has her own life and her own interests.
He likes someone who can make him laugh.
Smart. He wants someone he could spend hours with and not get bored.
Most of all, he wants someone who likes him for something other than hockey.
My happiness fades a bit when it comes to that last thought.
Wyatt opened up about that. How people know he’s on the hockey team, that he very well might have a career in the NHL someday, and they like him for that reason.
He told me his radar is up on that, and he’s usually very good at picking those people out.
That’s why he’s selective about who he lets into his inner circle, because he knows people like that would be the first ones to disappear if hockey were to end.
I hate that for him. I hate that Wyatt has people in his life who want to use him like that. But I’m also happy he’s let me into his circle.
And that brings me to hideous.
I stop smiling. My little magical moment abruptly comes to an end. It’s hideous because I’m in his circle, I have the qualities that he would want in a girlfriend—but he doesn’t want one.
Which means he doesn’t want me.
A heaviness settles over me. I glance over at Alpha Xi Pi across the street. That stupid fraternity. I wouldn’t be in this mess if they hadn’t initiated a bunch of assholes—including but not limited to Rob.
Then again, if that hadn’t happened, I’d never have met Wyatt. And I can’t imagine that, even if I know in a month this could very well leave me not only in tears, but with a broken heart, too.
I walk up the steps, put my key card up to the scanner on the front door, and step inside. Girls are hanging out all over the living room, seated in groups and talking. I know I’ll find more upstairs, in the big TV room, in the study room, or bouncing between bedrooms.
This has been an adjustment of living in the sorority house—it’s hard to find an “alone” space. Well, unless you go into the study room, but you’re not alone. You’re still with a bunch of people.
And right now? I feel like I need another bag of Mini Eggs and to sit alone with my thoughts about Wyatt.
I wave and call out a greeting to the group of girls gathered in the living area as I go to the elevator bank, skipping the staircase because I’m feeling lazy right now. I press the up button, and when the elevator opens, I find Kaitlyn inside.
UGH!
“Oh my God, just the person I wanted to see!” she says.
Oh my God, just the person I least wanted to see!
“Hi,” I say. “I got your text about Ash—”
Kaitlyn slaps her hand over my mouth, and I can taste the heavily perfumed scent of her expensive hand lotion. “Shh!” she hisses, her eyes flashing in annoyance. “Nobody knows about it, you ding-dong!”
Why do I want to bite her hand right now? Only Kaitlyn could push me into acting like a rabid animal.
Deciding not to bite her, I nod, and she drops her hand from my mouth. Then she looks down at her hand, and there’s a smear of my pink lipstick there. “Gross. You really should wear something long-lasting, Grace,” she snaps.
“Maybe you shouldn’t put you hand where it doesn’t belong, Kaitlyn,” I retort.
Her brown eyes darken with anger. She doesn’t like when the troops push back.
“Did you want to talk to me about football buddies?” I ask innocently.
She blinks. I have the upper hand here, with the quarterback of the football team demanding I be his buddy.
“Yes,” she says with forced sweetness. “Follow me.”
I give her an internal salute and follow her into the kitchen, which is dead right now because there’s no dinner served on Sunday night. She leads me into the pantry, shuts the door behind us, pauses for a moment, and then puts a plastic smile back on her face.
“I bent the rules so you could get Asher,” she says. “He was desperate to have you as his buddy. The quarterback of the football team is crazy about a Phi Mu Phi! This is so great for the sorority!”
I’m more interested in counting how many industrial-sized cans of crushed tomatoes are behind her head than talking about this, but I force myself to focus. “Well, I’m fine being his buddy, but I don’t know how great it is for Phi Mu Phi when I’m already dating Wyatt Jacobs.”
Kaitlyn blinks. Her perfectly applied lashes flutter up and down, as if she’s trying to place the name.
“He’s on the hockey team, so that should tick some boxes for you,” I say helpfully.
“Oh?” she asks, her face brightening. “Our hockey team is good, I do know that.”
I grin. “Yes, and Wyatt is a very, very good player.”
Her red lips twist in thought. I notice she used a lip stain, so it doesn’t smudge despite her movements. No wonder she was grossed out by my lipstick.
“Well, that works. But do keep Asher happy, okay? I definitely plan to put pics of you two up on social media at the football after-parties and events during the week,” she says firmly.
“So I’m part of the marketing plan. Got it.”
I’m being sarcastic. Kaitlyn sizes me up, but I can’t tell if she gets it or not.
“Right,” she says, still studying me. Then her mask appears again.
“For all the freshman on campus? Who are going to rush next semester? I mean, we’re already top tier, but seeing you with Asher at events?
Then with you dating a hockey player? We’re going to have our pick of the best potential new members. As we should.”
Gross. So our marketing strategy is to show me getting the “top-tier” guys at Ocean Cove. Not that we offer philanthropic opportunities and a place to make friends, but access to the best parties and hottest guys.
I’m about to pop off with my own thoughts on this, but Kaitlyn throws open the door and marches out. Her order has been issued and she’s moving on to the next battle she wants to wage.
I burst out laughing. I can’t wait to tell Wyatt he’s part of our recruitment strategy.
My phone vibrates in my hand. I flip it over and see I have a snap from Wyatt.
I feel my pulse quicken as I eagerly open it.
I can see his location is back at his house, so he went straight home after our study session, too.
It looks from the video like Wyatt is in his room, sitting on the edge of his bed—at least I think he is.
“Hey. I know you just saw me, and I should have asked you this when I was there, but I know sororities don’t provide dinner on Sunday night. Do you have any plans? Let me know. I was thinking we could grab something if you want.”
My stupid heart is beating out of control. My fake boyfriend is asking me to dinner. And I know it’s fake, I know he doesn’t mean it, and it doesn’t matter.
Because the only answer I have to his question is yes.