CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
LINA
O ne thing I’ve learned since being at Yale is that the rumor mill is always spinning.
Walking out of my early morning International Justice class, I get a text from Eden.
EDEN
FYI, it might be a good idea to stay away from Grant for a few days.
“What?” I mutter to myself, my brows furrowing down at my phone.
I haven’t seen Grant since Sunday morning after I spent the night at his apartment, and despite his offer for me to continue sleeping at his place, I wanted to try on my own for a few nights.
And I know that fact annoys him. He spent weeks trying to get me to finally agree, and now that I’ve done it once and it worked exactly how he said it would, I’m pulling back again.
It’s not that I’m adamantly against going back.
I’m not. It would be stupid for me to suffer for more than a couple nights when I now know what works.
And I’m hoping Grant can understand that just because I’m trying to keep this from becoming a permanent solution, that doesn’t mean I’m opposing his help.
At the same time, I think I owe it to myself to try. Because once I start relying on someone— really relying on them—it gives them the perfect chance to undo me.
Merging onto the outdoor path that leads back to my dorm, I dial Eden’s number and put my phone to my ear. It rings a few times before she picks up.
“What’s going on with Grant?” I ask her, not wasting time on pleasantries.
The wind is whipping in the background, and it makes it so I can barely hear her when she says, “It’s not a big deal, just normal Notes of New Haven drama that I doubt you’d want to be involved in.”
Figures. Grant is a hot commodity around campus, which makes him one of the top discussion topics on the gossip site .
“Where is he right now?”
“Um…” she trails off, like she doesn’t think it’s a good idea to tell me. “I’m not sure, but I know Braxton is at the training facility. So if I had to guess, Grant is probably with him.”
I take a sharp right at the sound of that. “Perfect, I’m about to pass by there right now. I’ll head in and figure out what’s going on myself.”
“Lina—”
“I’ll talk to you later, Eden.”
I get some weird looks when people see me heading toward the front doors of the football building. I don’t really give a damn right now. They can call me a jersey chaser all they want. All I care about is figuring out what’s happening.
Generally, I’m not a huge fan of getting my information from a secondary source. Since Eden didn’t seem like she was going to tell me anything without excessive prying, I decided to skip that route entirely.
Plus, according to Grant, we’re friends now. He should have no problem telling me what is already spreading around campus.
I push through the doors of the facility, and as I enter the lobby, I realize I have no idea where I am. I also have a sneaking suspicion that I’m about to get asked to leave due to the way the girl at the front desk is eyeing me down.
I’m doubtful anyone’s going to let me wander around this place, so I might as well try a different tactic.
“Hi.” I plaster on the nicest smile I can muster as I approach the desk. I’m hoping it doesn’t look as fake as it feels.
“How can I help you?” the girl sitting behind it asks, her expression not changing the slightest. She must have people come in here a lot when they’re not supposed to.
“Do you know where I can find Grant Vandenberg?”
She gives me a look that practically screams, “Are you stupid?” before saying, “Sorry, but we can’t let anybody in to see the players while they’re practicing.”
“Can you at least tell me if he’s here?”
Her expression turns even more judgmental. “Why? So you can wait here in the lobby for him?”
Shit. She thinks I’m some kind of stalker.
I take a moment, thinking of a valid reason that I would need to speak to Grant while also proving that I know him.
“He’s my boyfriend,” I say quickly, not thinking.
“Jesus Christ, Lina,” I can imagine Grant groaning.
I’m in the middle of mentally scolding myself before realizing that the girl’s face has completely sobered. “O-oh, of course,” she stutters. “I’ll get him for you right now.”
I can’t believe that worked. “Thank you,” I say as she gets up from her chair and heads down one of the side hallways.
Taking a few steps backward, I sit on one of the benches near the windows while I wait. When she returns, my breath hitches when I see she has Grant in tow.
Secretly, I’m hoping she didn’t give him any specifics of who was here to see him, but all hope is lost when he walks over and puts on a fake smile in the same fashion I did a few minutes ago.
“Hi, pretty girl,” he says sweetly. Too sweetly.
God damn it.
“Hi.” I stand from my chair, not sure what I’m expecting to transpire, but it’s definitely not Grant pulling me into his arms.
He wraps me in a hug like it’s the most natural thing in the world. As if we do this—public affection, casual touching, lying about him being my boyfriend—all the time. His hand slides down my back a little too familiarly. I’m so startled I forget to pull away immediately.
Behind him, the front desk girl watches with open curiosity, practically vibrating with how much she wants to eavesdrop. I can’t say I blame her.
“You really had to go with boyfriend? ” Grant murmurs against the side of my head, his breath warm. “You’ve gotta commit to the bit now. I can’t lie, it kind of turns me on.”
I would smack him in the chest for his lewd comment if I didn’t know there was a set of eyes on us.
“What the hell did you do?” I mutter under my breath, stepping back just enough to glare at him, ignoring his attempt at a compliment.
“I think the real question is, what the hell did you do?” His hands are still glued to my waist, and it feels like they’re burning through my skin as he fiddles with the straps of my backpack.
“You know how weird it is to have our receptionist come pull me out of practice to tell me my girlfriend is here? Especially with all the rumors going around right now.”
“Grant—”
“Let’s take a walk, yeah?” he cuts in loud enough for the receptionist to hear, tilting his head toward the exit doors with all the casual arrogance in the world. He doesn’t wait for me to answer, just takes my hand like he has every right to and leads me back outside into the cold air.
Once we’re out of earshot, I yank my hand free. “Start talking.”
“Christ, Evangelina, you made things so much more complicated.” He groans, running his hands roughly through his hair.
I don’t even bother commenting on how he called me Evangelina. Only because I can’t help but focus on the way the muscles of his biceps flex as he does it and the sweat that’s still clinging to his forehead and running down his neck to the collar of his Yale Football Dri-FIT shirt.
“How did I make things complicated?” I throw my arms up, exasperated. “All I did was pull a little stunt to get you out of practice so I could talk to you.”
“Eva—”
My entire body freezes. “Do not call me that.”
His face softens the tiniest bit. I can feel him study me for a moment, like the answers to all his questions are written across my forehead or flashing in my eyes.
“Why did Eden tell me to stay away from you all of a sudden?” I ask.
Grant’s breath mists in the frigid air between us.
“Because apparently, according to half of Yale, I have a secret pregnant wife,” he says flatly.
“You what ?”
“Abby posted about her pregnancy yesterday. I reposted it congratulating her because, you know, she’s my sister. But people are idiots. They saw ‘Vandenberg’ and immediately decided it was my kid. Some genius even started a Reddit thread about how I must have a pregnant wife I’m hiding.”
I stare at him, incredulous. “And me calling myself your girlfriend…”
“Yeah.” He gives a rough laugh. “You basically confirmed it to the entire football facility. Congratulations, we’re rumored to be expecting. I’m sure it will be on Notes of New Haven any minute.”
“Oh my God.” I groan, dropping my face into my hands. “You didn’t say anything to combat the rumors?”
His shoulders hitch. “What’s the point? If people aren’t even going to look at the account of the post I reshared, why would they pay attention to any statement I put out?”
When I look up at him again, though, neither of us can stop ourselves from breaking out into laughs.
“ Oh my gosh!” I howl in laughter, tears filling my eyes and my stomach starting to cramp from the sheer force of it.
“Yeah,” Grant chokes out. “It’s ridiculous.”
“So what now? Do we put out a press release? Hold a fake gender reveal party?” The idea of us feeding into the ridiculousness of it all makes me giggle even more, to the point where I can’t suppress it whatsoever as we continue walking around the facility.
I imagine the girls going along with it too, pretending as if they are all going to be aunts. Braxton and Meredith would obviously take the role of extremely fake godparents .
He grins, full and wide, like this is the most fun he’s had all day. “Now there’s an idea. Want to go pick out some pink and blue cupcakes?”
“Let’s do it,” I challenge, nudging him in the shoulder. “It might be fun to play along a bit.”
Grant looks over at me, mischief lighting his eyes. “Careful, pretty girl. Keep talking like that, and people really are going to think you’re stuck with me forever.”
I snort. “Please. You wish.”
He laughs under his breath, then bumps his shoulder lightly into mine as we walk. The easy, crackling energy between us suddenly feels heavier, almost charged.
For a second, we both go quiet. The wind whistles past, cold enough to sting my cheeks, but the heat rising in my chest has nothing to do with the temperature.
Grant shoves his hands into the pockets of his joggers, casting me a sideways glance. “Seriously, though, are you okay with people thinking… that?”
“You mean thinking I’m your potential wife, or thinking that I’m carrying your imaginary love child?”
He smirks. “Either. Both.”
Patting his chest playfully, I say, “I think I’ll survive. Plus, once we’re finished fucking with everyone, we can just give all the stuff to Abby.”
“Damn, this is going to be a blast.” Grant looks back toward me. “I never thought about using all the rumors that are used against us as something fun.”
“Might as well. I mean, if people are going to try and stir up shit about you, why not make them look like the stupid ones?”
“Alright, I’ve gotta get back to practice,” he says now that we’ve circled the whole building and are back at the front entrance. “Let’s start tonight. I’ll call you when I’m done for the day.”
“Sounds good.”
A match strikes deep in my chest when he leans forward, pressing a kiss to my cheek for everyone walking past to see before darting back inside.