Chapter 6
Chapter Six
A Proposition - Wyatt
Grace is silent. I wait for her to say something—anything—but no words pass her lips.
“Take off your sunglasses,” she finally says, her voice steely calm.
I furrow my brow. Okay, after telling Grace I’m in Alpha Xi Pi and that I’m going to blow up that stupid bet, this is kind of the last thing I expected her to say.
“What? Why?” I ask.
“Just do it. Please.”
I don’t know why, but I comply with her command. I take off my aviators and hold them in my hand, squinting down at her through the bright sunlight.
Her own sunglasses-covered eyes continue to look up at me. “I believe you,” she says softly. “I can see it in your eyes. You’re being sincere.”
I don’t know why relief is surging through me. I shouldn’t be so invested in this entire situation, but I am.
And I didn’t want Grace to think I was like the other bags of dicks in my fraternity, either.
“Can we sit back down for a few minutes?” I ask.
Grace nods. We return to the fountain, and I put my sunglasses back on. Grace tucks her short, pleated skirt underneath her before sitting, and I can’t help but notice—once again—her toned legs and the sliver of gorgeous, sexy skin revealed by the sightly cropped white top she’s wearing.
“I’m surprised you want to help me,” she says. “None of your so-called brothers did when that awful anonymous post was put up about me last year.”
“How did you know it was from a member of Alpha Xi Pi?” I ask.
“Because it came out after a mixer with your house,” Grace says.
“It was the first one I attended as a pledge, and I was so excited to go. Rob James showed me a lot of attention. Kept trying to get me to drink, but I wouldn’t.
Tried to get me to play cup pong. Dance with him.
He was drunk and kept trying to touch me.
First his arm around my shoulders, and when I pushed it off, he asked what was wrong with me. ”
Rob. Fucking Rob, who organized the bet.
He still can’t handle that Grace rejected him, and he’s determined to not only fuck her, but humiliate her, too.
“Grace. Rob is the one who came up with the bet,” I say. “I told him he was a dick for doing it. He’s an asshole, and I can’t fucking stand the guy. This just gives me more reasons to hate him.”
Her mouth presses into a tight line for a moment, and her hand clenches her plastic coffee cup, her light-pink nails digging into it. “Of course. He can’t handle the fact that I rejected him. But I thought he would have been over that by now. I mean, wasn’t it enough that he wrote that blind item?”
I feel sick with disgust. This is the house I pledged. These are the guys I swore loyalty to.
But I didn’t swear loyalty to this.
“Grace. If my house is full of complicit assholes, I’ll deactivate. This is not who I am. It’s not what I believe in. But not until we take care of this bet. I won’t leave the house until I’m sure you or any other girl won’t suffer in the future.”
“I—I don’t expect you to do that!” Grace says, quickly putting up her hand.
“I know you don’t. It’s what I want,” I say firmly. “Now tell me how this happened last semester.”
Grace nods. “Right. So Rob asked what was wrong with me when I took his arm off my shoulders. Well, I told him nothing was wrong with me, but I was not interested in him, and I didn’t want him touching me. At all. Then he told me I’d feel a lot better if I got fucked. By him.”
My hand flexes at my side, and I swear to God, the next time I see Rob, I’m going to punch him in the fucking face.
“So then he puts his hand on my waist and tells me to loosen up and proceeds to put his fingertips on the hem of my shirt, like he was going to try and snake his hand under it. I slapped his hand away, told him to fuck off, I’d never fuck him, and then I went home.
I felt too uncomfortable to stay. I didn’t want to be anywhere near him. ”
Jesus Christ, I’m so pissed. “No woman should be touched without consent or made to feel uncomfortable like that. Ever.” I hear the angry edge in my own voice. And I’ll be damned if I stay a part of any group like this.
I won’t.
“Thank you for saying that.”
Thank me? Grace feels like she has to thank me for acting like a decent human?
“You shouldn’t thank me for that,” I say, shaking my head. “No woman should have to put up with that kind of treatment.”
Grace is silent but reaches up and touches her necklace. She’s thinking about my words.
Her fingers drop, and then she clears her throat.
“I went back to the dorm with Maddie—she’s my best friend in the house—and McCall, my other close friend who is in my pledge class, and the next day, we start getting messages in our pledge-class group chat.
Apparently, a blind item was posted on that shitty Greek gossip website, talking about a frigid blonde Phi Mu Phi pledge who had a stick up her ass, acted like a complete bitch at a mixer just because she was the hottest girl, left early because she doesn’t know how to have fun, and should be avoided at all costs.
There’s nobody who would have written that except for Rob.
And everyone in my house knew it was me. ”
Now I’m beyond livid. And I’m actively fantasizing about breaking Rob’s nose.
“Grace, Rob is a fucking dick,” I say angrily. “I had no idea about this blind item. I never lived in the house, and I was gone a lot for hockey. Gossip also pisses me off, so I stay out of that, too. I never knew until last night.”
“I believe you,” Grace says, her fingers going up to her necklace again and tracing over the letter G. “What I don’t understand is why Rob thinks I’d hook up with him now. I can’t stand him.”
I roll my eyes. “Because Rob is arrogant enough to think you won’t be able to resist him forever. Even if he doesn’t win this bet? He wins in his mind because he’s humiliating you. Or so he thinks. Because I’m going to fucking destroy him when I get to the house tonight.”
“No,” Grace says firmly, “You’re not.”
“I’m sorry?”
“I don’t want you to get into any kind of trouble defending my honor, Wyatt. Punching Rob would definitely get you into trouble with the team, possibly the police, and that’s the last thing you need. It’s the last thing I would ever want.”
Why do I like the way my name sounds when it’s coming off those perfect pink lips of hers? Especially when she’s being protective of me?
“I have a proposal for you,” she says. Then she frowns. “Wait. Are you dating someone? Do you have a girlfriend?”
“What?” I sputter, shocked by this abrupt turn in our conversation.
Grace laughs. “Is the idea that preposterous?”
“Yes, because I don’t date,” I say, throwing out a hand in a stop motion. “My life is preparing for the NHL draft. I don’t have time for anything close to dating.”
She smiles at me. “Perfect. With classes and swimming, I don’t have time for dating, either.”
Where is she going with this? “I’m sorry, you lost me. Why are you asking me this?”
“What if we pretend to fake date?” Grace suggests. “To not only blow up the bet, but really stick it to Rob?”
“Fake date?” I ask, incredulous.
Suddenly I notice a flush climbing up her neck. Grace bites her lip, and I try to ignore how lush that full lower lip looks when drawn between her teeth.
It looks like something I’d love to bite.
Focus. On Grace’s words, not her, I remind myself.
“Never mind,” she says, shaking her head. She puts her hand on her backpack and begins to get up. “That was a stupid thing to even say to you. Thank you for giving me the heads up on the bet. You’re a good guy, Wyatt. A really good guy.”
“Grace, stop,” I say firmly. “Sit down and tell me what your idea is.”
She’s already standing up, looking down at me.
“I mean it, tell me,” I say. “You’ve trusted me this far, haven’t you?”
Grace sits down again. She takes a breath of air, tucks a lock of her long, satiny blonde hair behind her ear, and exhales. “It’s ridiculous.”
“I can be in on ridiculous.”
That makes her smile, and I find myself once again pleased that I put that smile on her face.
“Okay. What if we pretend to date? For like a month or so? We not only ruin the bet, but we really stick it to Rob because he will hate that you’re the one who got me—like I’m some kind of possession to be won. God, that’s gross to think, let alone say out loud.”
I chuckle at that. “It is.”
“But my guess is Rob would hate it if you were the one to date me,” Grace continues. “And then you would get to blow up the bet in his face, because I’m guessing he wouldn’t want to cross you.”
I nearly laugh. Rob is a chickenshit. Yeah, he’s the captain of the lacrosse team, but he wouldn’t want to go up against me. He fears a fight.
And I don’t.
“So what would this involve?” I ask, taking a sip of my coffee.
“We can hit it off, so to speak, at the mixer this Friday, if you can go,” Grace suggests. She makes a face. “My sorority president is making all of us go, so I have to be there anyway.”
Oh, fuck no. I won’t leave Grace alone with Rob and the other losers in on the bet circling around like sharks in the water.
“Then, after Friday, we fake date,” she continues. “Go some places together, just be seen. Long enough so we’re a couple, like a month. And then we can break up. If you do this, I can help you with your history.”
My mind divides this up into pros and cons.
Con: Grace would cockblock me from other girls for a month if I pretend to date her.
Pros: I would get help with history and get to stick it to that asshole Rob.
I can’t deny another pro for it.
I’d get to hang out with Grace.
“So we meet this Friday, hit it off, and then I get the pleasure of telling Rob to shut the fuck up about my girlfriend,” I say. “And tell him if he doesn’t, I will break his face.”
Grace blushes again, and God, she’s cute when she does that. “Yes, something like that,” she says. “Maybe without the ‘break his face’ part.”
I laugh, and she does, too. “Okay,” I say. “You’d have to wear my jersey to my games, you know. First game is October fourth, which would fall under this arrangement.”
“Okay. I can do that.”
“I could wear an artistic swimming T-shirt in exchange,” I offer.
“No, I wouldn’t make you do that!”
“Why not? If I’m your boyfriend, I’d support you. When do you have meets?”
“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that. Our season doesn’t start until January. We’ll be long broken up by then. Oh! But we’ll need to get together and figure out our story.”
“Our story?”
“Well, yes, people will ask questions, and we’ll need to know things about each other.
I guess I should get your snap first, so we can talk about it.
If you want to do this, I mean. I know this is crazy and a lot to ask, and you don’t know me,” Grace says, her words coming out a bit faster.
“God, when I say it that way, I sound unhinged.”
I laugh. “Open up your Snapchat and give me your phone.”
She opens her backpack and retrieves her iPhone, tapping a few things, then hands it to me. I glance down at her account and notice she has a picture of herself in her swimwear, her hair slicked back and full makeup on.
Fuck she’s hot. And this might be the worst thing in the world for me to say yes to.
I ignore the warning light coming on in my brain and add myself as a friend. Then I hand the phone back to her.
Grace looks down at it and smiles up at me. “OCUWyatt_92. Your hockey number, I assume?”
“I’m incredibly creative,” I say dryly.
“Or you make it easier for girls to find you,” she teases. She turns her phone around, takes a selfie, and then begins tapping on her phone. “There. I just sent you something.”
Grace puts her phone back into her backpack and zips it up. She takes the remainder of our muffins and throws them into the nearby trash can, then comes back to retrieve her iced coffee and her backpack.
“I’ve got to run.” She pushes her oversized sunglasses on top of her head, and her eyes squint for a moment to adjust to the sunlight. Then those deep blue eyes lock on mine. “Thank you for all you’re doing for me. This is a lot to ask of you, and don’t think I don’t know that.”
I see gratitude on her face, and I feel my heart speed up.
“I’ll talk to you later. Bye,” she says, walking off.
I watch her, taking in the sway of her hips and her toned legs and thinking things I shouldn’t. I rub my hand over my face and groan.
Why did I agree to this? Why? This is a crazy idea. I mean, who does this? I’m going to pretend to date Grace for a month? Have I lost my mind? I specifically don’t date, I don’t need complications, and now I’ve agreed to fake date Grace?
I grab my phone and tap open my Snapchat. Sure enough, I have a snap from Grace. It’s her smiling face, and then I read what she wrote me:
Your first snap of your new girlfriend.
The sentence is followed by a smiling emoji.
And as I look at her beautiful face, only one thought runs through my mind.
I AM SO FUCKED.