Chapter 5 Hand-Holding for Beginners
L ena had planned for everything.
Mostly.
She had planned the table.
Front window, but not too obvious.
Visible enough for the campus crowd to notice. Casual enough that it did not look like she had chosen it specifically because it had the best natural light and a clean line of sight from the coffee shop entrance.
She had planned the timing.
Nine-fifteen.
Late enough that the first rush of caffeine-starved students had thinned out. Early enough that the gossip account’s favorite contributors would still be lingering over iced coffees and pretending not to watch everyone.
She had planned her outfit.
Cream sweater. Pale blue skirt. White sneakers. Gold hoops. Hair down, soft but not overdone. Approachable. Warm. Camera-safe without looking like she expected cameras.
She had planned the drink order.
Her usual iced vanilla latte.
Nico’s black coffee, because apparently the man believed joy was a carbohydrate.
She had even planned three conversation topics that would photograph well if anyone caught them talking.
Upcoming youth clinic.
Championship training.
A fake argument over which Westbridge dining hall dessert was least offensive.
Simple.
Controlled.
Harmless.
What Lena had not planned for was Nico Reyes walking into the coffee shop in a black hoodie, dark jeans, and a face that made every girl within twenty feet forget how to blink.
That was inconvenient.
Very inconvenient.
He did not even try.
That was the worst part.
He stepped through the glass door like he was entering a place he already regretted, one hand in his pocket, the other wrapped around the strap of his racket bag.
His dark hair was still slightly damp, curling at the edges.
A thin silver chain disappeared beneath the collar of his hoodie.
He looked tired, annoyed, and so unfairly attractive that Lena immediately resented him for it.
Three students at the counter stopped talking.
The girl behind the register looked up, then looked again.
Someone near the pastry case whispered, “That’s him.”
Nico heard it.
Of course he did.
His jaw tightened.
Lena watched the wall come down over his face.
Cold.
Hard.
Gone before anyone could say something kind enough to matter.
She stood from the front table before he could decide to leave.
“Nico.”
His eyes found hers.
For a second, the coffee shop noise dulled around them.
Then his gaze moved over her outfit, not slowly enough to be rude, but not quickly enough to be safe either.
“You look...” He stopped.
Lena arched a brow. “Careful.”
“Prepared.”
“Wow. Save some romance for the cameras.”
His mouth twitched.
Barely.
She hated how much she noticed.
He crossed the room toward her, and the whispers followed him like static. Lena kept her smile easy, because that was the job. Smile like nothing was strange. Smile like fake dating the most controversial athlete on campus was a normal Tuesday activity.
Smile like her pulse had not tripped over itself when Nico stopped beside her chair.
“You picked the window,” he said.
“Yes.”
“Subtle.”
“We’re not hiding.”
“No. We’re just manufacturing a relationship in natural lighting.”
Lena reached for her drink. “Exactly. You’re learning.”
He looked at the chair across from her, then at the table, then at the front window, where two girls outside had slowed their walk to an almost comedic crawl.
“I’m sitting with my back to the room,” he said.
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am.”
“You’ll look defensive.”
“I am defensive.”
“Try being photogenic instead.”
He gave her a flat look. “I don’t know how to do that.”
Lena let her eyes move over his face before she could stop herself.
Sharp jaw. Dark lashes. Mouth made for scowling and other terrible decisions.
“Yes,” she said dryly. “Tragic disadvantage.”
His gaze sharpened.
There was a beat where they both heard what she had not quite meant to confess.
Then Nico pulled out the chair across from her and sat with his side angled toward the room, not fully facing away, but not exposed either.
A compromise.
Lena looked at him.
He looked back.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“That’s your impressed face.”
“I don’t have an impressed face.”
“You have twelve faces. Most of them lie.”
Her fingers tightened around her latte.
That should not have landed.
It did.
Because it was too close to the truth for a man who had known her properly for approximately forty-eight hours.
She smiled anyway.
“Careful, Reyes. Observant almost looks like effort.”
“I’m full of surprises.”
“I doubt that.”
“You shouldn’t.”
The words were quiet.
Too quiet.
Lena looked down at her drink.
A phone camera flashed from somewhere near the corner.
Nico’s shoulders went rigid.
There it was.
The reason this could fall apart.
He could survive pressure on a tennis court. Lena had seen him do it. She had watched him stand alone at the baseline with hundreds of eyes on him and play like the entire world existed only inside the white lines.
But this was different.
This was not a match.
There was no ball to hit. No point to win. No clear rule for what counted as control.
Only people watching and deciding what his face meant.
“Nico,” she said softly.
His eyes stayed fixed on the table. “I know.”
“Breathe.”
“I am breathing.”
“You’re glaring at a muffin like it insulted your family.”
His gaze flicked up.
There.
A crack.
Small, but real.
“It looked suspicious,” he muttered.
Lena bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from smiling too hard.
Across the shop, someone lifted another phone.
Nico saw it.
His hand curled into a fist on the table.
Lena did not think.
She reached across and covered his hand with hers.
The second her palm touched his knuckles, they both went still.
It was supposed to be strategic.
That was what she told herself immediately.
A public gesture. A calming cue. A soft couple moment for anyone watching. This was exactly the kind of thing Talia had meant by natural.
Except nothing about it felt natural.
It felt electric.
Nico’s hand was warm beneath hers. Larger. Rougher than she expected, with calluses along the base of his fingers and a strip of athletic tape around two knuckles. His skin tensed at first, like touch was something he had to decide whether to survive.
Then, slowly, his fingers loosened.
Lena forgot where they were.
Only for a second.
But a second was enough.
Nico looked at their hands, then at her.
His expression had changed.
Not soft.
Nico Reyes did not do soft in public.
But less guarded.
Less alone.
“Hand-holding wasn’t natural,” he said under his breath.
Her pulse jumped.
“This isn’t hand-holding.”
“No?”
“No. This is crisis stabilization.”
His thumb shifted.
Barely.
A brush against the side of her hand.
Her entire body noticed.
“Feels official,” he said.
“It is. Very technical.”
“Should I sign something?”
“You refused paperwork.”
“Maybe I’m evolving.”
The smile slipped out of her before she could polish it.
Real.
Quick.
Unprotected.
Nico stared at it.
As if it had surprised him more than the touch.
The front door opened again, and a group of tennis players walked in. Jace Donovan led them, took one look at the table, and grinned like Christmas had come early.
“Oh,” Jace said loudly. “This is adorable.”
Nico’s face closed immediately.
Lena pulled her hand back, too fast.
A mistake.
She knew it as soon as she did it.
Because Nico noticed.
His eyes dropped to the space where her hand had been, then lifted to her face.
Something flickered there.
Not hurt, exactly.
But recognition.
Like he had known she would pull away.
Like he had expected it.
Lena hated that more than she should have.
Jace approached their table, still smiling. “Morning, lovebirds.”
Nico looked up at him. “Leave.”
“Wow. Relationship glow looks incredible on you.”
Lena recovered first because recovering was what she did.
“Good morning, Jace.”
“Lena.” He placed a hand over his heart. “Thank you for your service.”
Nico leaned back. “I will end you.”
“With what? Your girlfriend’s brand guidelines?”
A laugh burst out of Lena before she could catch it.
Nico looked at her.
Not annoyed.
Not really.
More like her laughter had become another thing he did not know what to do with.
Jace noticed too, because of course he did. His grin softened into something more curious.
“Well,” he said. “I’m going to get coffee and pretend I’m not emotionally invested in this extremely fake situation.”
Lena’s smile froze.
Nico’s eyes sharpened.
Jace realized half a second too late that he had said the wrong thing too loudly.
At the next table, a girl looked up from her laptop.
Then down at her phone.
Lena’s stomach dropped.
Nico saw it happen.
The girl’s thumbs moved quickly.
Too quickly.
Lena reached for her phone.
The gossip account updated before she even unlocked the screen.
A photo of her hand over Nico’s had already been posted.
Caption:
NICO REYES AND LENA HART SPOTTED AT brIGHT BEAN. Damage control has never looked this cozy.
The comments started immediately.
Wait why are they cute?
She can fix him.
No way this is real.
His hand???
I give it two weeks.
Lena stared at the screen.
The post was good.
Too good.
Their hands looked intimate. Gentle. Real.
A perfect piece of evidence for a lie.
She should have felt relief.
Instead, she felt exposed.
Nico leaned forward just enough to read the screen.
His shoulder brushed hers.
“Looks like your plan worked,” he said.
His voice was flat.
Lena looked up.
“Did it?”
His eyes held hers.
Around them, the coffee shop continued humming. Cups clinked. Students whispered. Jace ordered badly. Someone laughed near the door.
But at the table by the front window, the space between Lena and Nico felt too quiet.
Too aware.
Then Nico shifted in his chair.
Not away from her.
Toward her.
Just enough to block the angle from the nearest raised phone.
It was subtle.
Protective.
Unplanned.
Lena’s breath caught.
“You don’t have to do that,” she said softly.
His gaze stayed on the room.
“I know.”
The words landed somewhere under her ribs.
Her phone buzzed again.
Another comment had risen to the top.
Fake or not, he looks at her like he’d burn down the campus if she asked.
Lena should have laughed.
She did not.
Because Nico was still sitting between her and the cameras.
And his hand, resting on the table beside hers, was close enough to touch again.
Neither of them moved.
Neither of them looked away.
And for the first time since this terrible idea began, Lena wondered if the most dangerous part of pretending with Nico Reyes would be how easily the lie learned to breathe.