Chapter 3 The Worst Possible Idea #2
Nico dragged a hand over his jaw. “I’m not doing it.”
“Then what’s your plan?”
“Win.”
“You already did. Nobody’s talking about that.”
His eyes flashed.
Good.
Let him be mad.
Mad was better than unreachable.
“You don’t understand anything about me,” he said.
“You’re right.”
That seemed to surprise him.
Lena stepped around the table, keeping enough distance that he did not feel cornered. She was learning that about him quickly. Nico Reyes did not like being managed, but he hated being trapped.
“I don’t understand you,” she said. “I don’t know what Declan said. I don’t know why you won’t tell anyone. I don’t know why you would rather let strangers call you dangerous than explain yourself.”
His throat moved.
“But I do understand public perception,” she continued. “And right now, public perception is about to take things from you that you clearly can’t afford to lose.”
His face turned cold. “There it is.”
“What?”
“People like you always find the bruise.”
Lena went quiet.
People like you.
She should not have cared.
She did.
“People like me?” she asked.
He looked her over, not with desire this time, but judgment.
It should not have burned.
It did.
“Coach’s daughter. Perfect smile. Perfect life. A key to every room in this building.”
Her chest tightened.
If he had slapped her, it might have felt less intimate.
“You don’t know anything about my life either,” she said.
“No. But I’m not trying to sell it.”
The words hit the center of the room and stayed there.
Lena looked away first, because if she did not, he might see that he had hurt her.
And she did not give difficult men the satisfaction of knowing where their aim was good.
She gathered her laptop. “Fine.”
Nico blinked. “Fine?”
“Yes. Fine. Don’t do it.”
Suspicion narrowed his eyes. “That easy?”
“No, Nico. Nothing about you seems easy.”
His mouth tightened.
“But I’m not going to beg you to save your own future,” she said. “If you want the world to keep believing the ugliest version of you, that’s your choice.”
She started for the door.
His voice stopped her.
“What do you get out of it?”
Lena turned back.
“What?”
“This fake relationship. The campaign. Whatever you want to call it.” His gaze was sharp, searching. “What do you get?”
The honest answer rose in her throat.
Respect.
A chance.
Proof.
A future that did not have her father’s name stamped across it.
She could have lied. She was good at clean answers.
Instead, maybe because he had already stripped the room of politeness, she told the truth.
“I get to prove I can handle pressure.”
His expression shifted.
Just slightly.
“My father thinks I’m distracted,” she said. “The department thinks I’m helpful. Cute. Good with captions. I need a major win if I want anyone to see me as more than Coach Hart’s daughter.”
Nico said nothing.
That was worse than arguing.
Lena hated the softness trying to creep into the silence.
“So no,” she said. “This isn’t charity. You need your scholarship. I need a win. We can hate each other efficiently.”
For the first time, something almost like amusement touched his mouth.
Almost.
Then he looked down, jaw working like he was chewing on pride.
“How long?” he asked.
Her pulse jumped. “What?”
“How long would we have to fake it?”
Lena held very still.
“Through the championship,” she said. “Then we break up quietly. Mutual. Mature. No drama.”
He looked at her like he doubted she knew what no drama meant.
Smart man.
“Rules,” he said.
“Yes.”
“No private pretending.”
“Agreed.”
“No posting without my approval.”
“That may be difficult.”
“Then get creative.”
“No kissing,” she said quickly.
Too quickly.
His eyes dropped to her mouth.
Again.
Just for half a second.
Her skin warmed.
Nico looked back at her face, expression unreadable.
“Fine,” he said.
Fine.
One syllable.
One match struck.
One future catching fire.
Lena should have felt victorious.
Instead, she felt the floor tilt beneath her.
The door opened before either of them could speak again.
Talia looked between them. “Well?”
Nico picked up his racket bag.
“I’ll do it,” he said.
Talia’s eyebrows lifted.
Lena’s heart pounded once, hard.
Nico stopped beside her on his way to the door, close enough that his shoulder almost brushed hers.
Almost.
Not quite.
His voice dropped so only she could hear.
“One rule, Lena Hart.”
She looked up at him.
He smelled faintly like soap, sweat, and trouble.
“What?”
His eyes held hers.
“Don’t start believing your own story.”
Then he walked out.
Lena stood there, her laptop pressed against her chest, while Talia released a slow breath behind her.
“Well,” Talia said.
Lena stared at the empty doorway.
Her pulse was still racing.
Her mouth was still dry.
And somewhere deep, deep inside her, in a place she did not plan to examine, something reckless had already leaned forward.
“Well,” Lena repeated.
Then her phone buzzed.
A message from Maya filled the screen.
Please tell me the rumor I just heard is fake.
Lena closed her eyes.
Then another message came through.
Actually wait. If it’s fake dating Nico Reyes, lie to me slowly.