Chapter 37
AVERY
SEVEN MINUTES EARLIER
RAWLEY: Just got back to the house. Wild little excursion with Connor.
AVERY: Excited to hear about it.
RAWLEY: Can’t wait to hang out, I’ll fill you in. It’s a secret from Landon though.
AVERY: Ooo, now I’m intrigued.
Iset my phone down, biting my lip. I’m at a red light after running post–road trip errands.
Only three minutes from Landon’s house, I realize.
I don’t know where this is coming from, but a well of uncertainty is filling up inside me as I think about our dinner tonight.
We just agreed to a reprieve with Taylor on ending things, but September isn’t that far away. Six weeks. And we’re about to both be busy, with the start of his training camp.
Will I even see him that much before Taylor says it’s time to start the breakup?
It doesn’t feel like this should end in six weeks. I want to keep going.
I know it’s not the plan, but why are we stuck following the plan?
We’ve made it this far, and have such a great time together—why blow it up?
And our reps shouldn’t complain if we keep going with the lie, because it will only keep growing the media attention.
How much of it is a lie though, Avery?
I dare not press into that question.
The compulsion to talk to Rawley about it is strong. Would he want us to stay together for longer? Whatever that means?
You can just talk to him about this at dinner.
Except the anxiety I’m feeling doesn’t calm down by the time the light turns green.
My impatience roaring in my head, my uncertainty untenably tightening in my chest, I start driving toward Landon’s.
This will be good. We’ll get things sorted out, and there won’t be any more ambiguity.
You’ve been over there a bunch of times now, he won’t mind you dropping by.
As confirmation of that fact, when I drive into Landon’s community, the guard waves me on, recognizing me.
See, this is going to be fine. And then dinner can just be fun tonight.
I reach his driveway and turn in.
Only, the driveway is busy. There’s people in it.
It takes me a second to connect the dots of what I’m seeing.
It’s Rawley—yeah, it’s definitely him—hugging a blonde?
Not just any blonde, I realize a moment later.
Stefani. His ex of sorts; the girl he fell for in high school and hooked up with multiple times. Recognizable from her picture in his phone contacts.
Why is she here? Why are they touching? Why—
He looks up and sees me, alarm in his expression.
Oh hell no.
Why does he look so worried?
Scared?
Guilty?
FUCK NO.
A flash memory of that awful conversation with Wells hits, my heart lurching.
And he was hooking up with Lisa White…
This can’t be happening again.
My head fogs with the memories of that hallway, my chest racked with echoes of my teenage pain…
I’m not letting this happen again.
Nope.
Rawley pulls back from their embrace, his eyes big.
But it’s too late. I saw it. I saw them.
He didn’t tell me she was coming. Why not?
Fear spikes in me at the possible answer.
I’m not going to be the one he doesn’t really want, the one he’s putting up with for this arrangement.
A means to an end.
The woman, Stefani, gazes directly at me.
Is that a look of triumph in her eyes?
OH ABSOLUTELY FUCKNG NOT.
I hit reverse and hightail it out of there, feeling an array of emotions I refuse to name further. Escape is the only goal.
Within sixty seconds, my phone is ringing.
Rawley.
Not ready to deal with him, especially while on the road home, I don’t pick up.
He doesn’t give up though. After I don’t answer, he takes to text, which I read at the next light.
RAWLEY: I know that looked bad, but it wasn’t anything, I swear. She’s in town with her family and came by for a few minutes.
I sit with his explanation while I make the drive back to Sarah’s.
I’m shaken. Really shaken.
Be logical. You’re spiraling like you’re back in that high school hallway. Be logical.
I try to rein in my emotions. What he’s describing could be a perfectly reasonable explanation. Rawley’s not given you reason to doubt him once yet.
He’s not a liar. He’s not a liar.
But then…even if that’s true…
Why did that hurt so much?
Why the heck was I so affected?
This is supposed to be FAKE.
The answer hits me. This may have started out as fake, but you’ve caught feelings, Avery Marie Parker.
Shit. No, no, no. Panic pools in my gut.
But denying it does no good. Because while I’m being logical and calling myself out on things…
The tug in my chest when I think of Rawley lately? Hoping we can extend this arrangement more than six weeks? Wanting to spend time with him outside of public appearances? Texting all the time when we’re not together?
I like him. For real.
With my reaction, with my emotions, I can’t deny what’s been building for weeks.
I like him, as more than a friend, as more than a “fake” boyfriend.
An athlete. A famous, sexy athlete.
The number one red line I vowed not to cross.
Damn it.
But nothing can come of it. Not with another athlete. Look at how much I’m affected now? It will only be worse if I let this all linger.
My heart aches at the thought of letting Rawley go.
Still, I don’t want to be made a fool again.
And I’m scared, so scared of that.
I never wanted to feel this way again.
Maybe Rawley’s one of the good guys, but today has only reinforced why I have my rule in the first place.
Look at how Stef taunted me. She didn’t care that he was “taken.”
Rawley may live up to his word, and not actually cross a line with her.
But what if he finds someone while we’re “fake” dating and wants to be with them for real?
I’ll get dumped, and be embarrassed again as the media follows him and his new girlfriend around.
Reliving the fear I felt earlier, I don’t think I’m ready to bridge it now.
I may be paralyzed by the past, but nonetheless, we have no future.
This has been fun, but it isn’t real, and it’s dangerous to let it go on longer.
Avery, end it before this all gets harder.
RAWLEY: Can I come over, so we can talk?
End it.
When I park at Sarah’s house, I study both his messages again.
And then I type out a reply.
AVERY: Sure. Come over whenever this afternoon.
Coming out of my full crash-out mode from earlier, I’m ready to talk, but the subject matter is going to be different than I anticipated an hour ago.
RAWLEY: On my way.
He’s standing in Sarah’s living room thirty minutes later, rubbing his hand down his face. Looking thoroughly upset and apologetic.
“Really, it wasn’t anything. She didn’t tell me she was coming over.”
Stay strong, Avery. This needs to be over before you get hurt.
I gesture for him to sit on the couch while I stick to the armchair. “It’s okay. I believe you.”
“You do? Really?” He looks hopeful more than surprised. My heart tugs, knowing what I plan to do.
Stay on task. This is going to suck but it’s for the best.
“You’re not a liar, Rawley, or a cheater.” I believe what I’m saying, even if it doesn’t change the right thing to do for me. “I’m fine. I was just shocked to see her.”
“Okay, I get that.”
I take a deep breath, steeling myself to say the words that need saying.
“I do think we should consider what Aiden said though, at this point.”
Confusion fills his face. “Consider it how?”
I grip my legs to let out some of the tension I’m feeling. Get this over with, Avery.
“There’s no long term here. With you headed off to training camp, and me focused on the second half of the season, it’s the perfect time for things to taper off.”
He doesn’t speak at first, but then he tests two of my words, his slight Alabama drawl drawing them out.
“Taper off?”
I keep going. I’m all in now, and there’s no turning back. “We’ve had fun, we’ve gotten what we wanted out of this for our careers, and I mean this truly, I’d like to stay friends. You’re a great person.”
His face crumbles. “Friends.”
“Yeah.” He looks pained, but I push on. It’ll be better to have clarity, right?
And then the brutal truth comes out of my mouth. “We knew this wasn’t going to go anywhere. It always had an end date, like you said after Aiden called me that day.”
He doesn’t answer for a while. Looking pale, his eyes flat.
“That’s what you want?” he finally asks.
“Yes.” It’s not, but at the same time, it is.
“To stay friends.”
“Yes, without benefits.” I try to make it sound like a joke, but I’m not sure I succeed.
His laugh in return is dark, so unlike him. “I got it.”
It definitely came off wrong then. “Sorry.”
He shakes his head.
Now that the hard part is done, I don’t want him to take it personally. I’m not sure how to convey that, though. “It’s not you, Rawley. You’re an awesome guy.”
“Right,” his tone downbeat, and I just—I just need to end this.
“I can tell Taylor, have her work on an exit plan?” I hate that phrase as soon as I say it. It sounds so transactional.
“Do what you need to do.”
And then he scoops up his keys, leaving without another word.