Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Just Friends - Wyatt
I’m in the middle of chatting with Grace when I get a message from Chase:
DUDE WHY ARE YOU AT HOME TONIGHT? GET YOUR ASS OVER TO MILO’S.
I push down on my baseball hat as I read his message. I should disable the feature on Snapchat that shows my location. I’ve gotten a couple of texts asking why I’m at home and not out at Milo’s during syllabus week.
I ignore his message—along with the others—and flip back to the conversation I’m having with Grace.
I pause and linger on the picture she’s just sent me, of her and her friend going to the OCU publications open house.
The girl next to Grace is pretty—long, jet-black hair that falls in waves past her shoulders, big green eyes—but my eyes still stay fixated on Grace.
She’s gorgeous in an off-the-shoulder white blouse that exposes her shoulders and collarbones.
Her blonde hair is swept back with a hairband, and a bunch of necklaces are layered around her neck, including the G necklace.
We’ve been messaging about her exploring opportunities with the campus fashion magazine, and I go back to the last message she sent me:
Why am I nervous about this? I can swim in front of judges no problem, but walking into this open house makes my palms sweat.
I smile. It’s kind of cute that this girl who had the balls to ask me to fake date her, who will stay underwater until she’s damn near about to pass out for her sport, and told the captain of the lacrosse team off, is nervous about meeting with members of a student-run publication.
I message her back:
They’re students. You have nothing to be nervous about.
She replies:
That’s true. And I might not even like what positions are available anyway.
I feel my mouth tug up in a grin as I type:
I see you’re going in with a positive attitude about this experience.
Grace doesn’t waste time replying:
Shut up. The glass is half-empty in my world, so I can be pleasantly surprised if things work out better than I hoped.
She attaches a laughing emoji to her message, but I stare down at the screen, thinking about her words. Grace deserves to see the world as half-full. I wonder what has made her outlook so cautious.
Rob and my stupid fraternity brothers, for starters, I think, growing annoyed.
She should be positive about this open house. I mean, not that I know a thing about her qualifications, but she’s smart, I can tell that much. And she’s brave.
I begin to reply, but then Sebastian flops down next to me on the couch, his eyes drifting over to my iPhone screen. “Grace? You’re talking to Grace Walsh?” he asks.
I immediately close out of the chat and put my phone face down on the sofa next to me. “So?” I ask. “We’re classmates.”
Sebastian snorts. “Your very hot classmate who you wanted to rescue from the assholes at your fraternity.”
I haven’t told any of my roommates about our fake-dating arrangement. Nor do I intend to. “We started talking,” I say casually. “She’s cool.”
Sebastian’s mouth curves into a knowing smile. “I bet she is.”
“Shut up, dickhead.”
He laughs. “Don’t worry, I can see why you’d want to rescue her. She’s fucking hot.”
I don’t say anything. Why do I not like the idea of Sebastian thinking about Grace, let alone talking about how hot she is?
Whoa. Wait. Why the hell am I thinking that?
I get up from the sofa, as if I can physically get away from that disturbing thought. “Want to go to Milo’s?”
“Sure,” Sebastian says. “Give me five minutes.”
He gets off the couch and heads to his room, and as soon as he’s turned the corner, I flip my phone back over.
I’m just getting to know Grace. That’s all this is.
I’m going to pose as her boyfriend, for fuck’s sake.
I have to know something about the girl.
I open my Snapchat and reply to her last message:
I think you have this backward, Grace. They’d be lucky to have YOU.
I wait for her to reply, knowing in Sebastian’s world, five minutes is more like take a shower, get dressed, spend forever messing with his hair, and then go to Milo’s.
To my surprise, she sends me a video message back.
“Hey, I just wanted to say thank you for that last message,” she says quietly, her fingertips absently tracing over the G necklace.
“I needed to hear that. This is the first thing I’ve been excited about—other than swimming, I mean—and sometimes I’m afraid to want something too badly, you know?
For fear of being disappointed. Probably because my biggest fear is disappointing people.
Sorry, I’m rambling.” A pink blush sweeps across her cheeks.
“You don’t need to hear all this. But I’m about to walk in there, learn about the fashion magazine, and see if I can help them.
So thank you for that, Wyatt. For giving me that perspective. Um … have a good night.”
Then the video ends. I hold the phone in my hand, staring at the screen. I play it again, studying her.
My lower half responds, my dick twitching in my jeans. I can’t get over how beautiful she is, from her vivid blue eyes to her lush mouth. Grace looks even more beautiful tonight because she’s dressed up. The blouse is sexy, exposing her skin like that. I bet she smells like vanilla and honey.
And tastes like it.
But it’s more than my dick that’s intrigued. I have a feeling Grace doesn’t share stuff like that easily. Yet she did with me. For some reason I can’t put my finger on, I like that I’m the one she confided in.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. I rub my hand over my face. Fake dating her might be harder than I thought.
If not downright disastrous.
***
More than an hour later, I’m at Milo’s, the sports bar not far from campus and only a few blocks from the beach.
It’s crowded despite the fact that it’s Wednesday.
Not because it’s syllabus week, but because it’s a dollar slice of pizza and half-price pitcher night—a cheap meal and night out for OCU students.
I turn my attention to Sebastian, whose eyes are flicking over the girls in the bar, seeing if there’s anyone he’s going to hit on later.
I follow his gaze, which has landed on a group of girls all dressed in some form of black crop top and shorts.
Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but it’s nothing like the white off-the-shoulder blouse Grace had on that was both sweet and sexy a—
Stop. Thinking. About. Grace.
I clear my throat.
“See anything you like?” I ask.
Sebastian shrugs. “Hot girls? Yes. But nothing that would challenge me. I’m in the mood for a challenge.”
I smirk. Sebastian is all about the chase.
Tables are crammed with students, and we wait for one to open up. The TVs are filled with baseball games—the only professional sport going on this last week of August.
Finally, we move to snag a table as soon as some girls get up to leave—and one brunette flashes me a big smile as they pass. “I love hockey!” she tells me, stopping in front of me. “And you’re my favorite player, Wyatt.”
I stare down at her. She has long, straight hair and hazel eyes, and she’s wearing a cropped black tank top and jeans. She’s cute. Very cute.
But I’m not interested.
“Thanks,” I say, passing her and following Sebastian to the vacant booth. I slide in one side and he takes the seat across from me.
“Dude, that chick totally eye fucked you,” he says, spinning a cardboard coaster around on the wooden tabletop.
“So?”
A smirk plays at the corners of his mouth. “Thinking about Grace?”
“No,” I snap.
Sebastian laughs. “Nah, of course you weren’t. Christ, you’re down bad, and you haven’t even done anything with her yet.”
I’m about to tell him I’m never going to do anything with her, but then I remember I’m supposed to be fake dating her in a few days.
A server comes by and asks what we want to drink. After showing our IDs, we get a pitcher. I’ll only have one beer, but I have no doubt we’ll have others joining us soon.
Like Chase, who’s just spotted us from across the bar and is making his way over to us. He slides into the booth next to me. “Glad you managed to tear yourself away from the sofa,” he says, grinning at me. He looks across the table to Sebastian and nods his head. “Johnson, what’s up?”
“Good. How was your summer, Adelson?”
“Not bad. But ready to be back,” he says.
Our server returns with a pitcher of beer and glasses, setting them down in the middle of the table. “I’ll bring another glass.”
“Thanks,” Chase says. Then he turns to me. “Are you going to the mixer on Friday? Normally I don’t, but it’s Phi Mu Phi, and those girls are hot.”
Sebastian quirks a brow. “Do tell, bro. Are you going?”
I pour myself a beer and take a sip, ignoring his knowing look. “Yeah, I’m going.”
Sebastian turns to Chase. “He was on snap with the hottest Phi Mu Phi right before we left.”
Chase looks at me, his eyes wide in surprise. “Grace Walsh?”
I nod. “Yeah, we’re in the same history class.”
“Shit, she doesn’t talk to any guys, from what I hear. Does she know you’re an Alpha Xi Pi?”
“Yeah, she does,” I say.
Chase’s mouth falls open. “Are you serious?”
I take another sip of my beer.
“So are you going to make a move on her?” he asks. “Is that the sudden interest in going on Friday night?”
I put my beer down and pick at the edge of the cardboard coaster underneath it. The server returns and sets a glass down in front of Chase, and he puts in a request for two slices of pepperoni pizza. Both Sebastian and I decline the pizza.
I think about my answer. I don’t like lying to my closest friends, but nobody can know about our arrangement. And while I love them, it’s best that this stays just between me and Grace.
“I am,” I say.
Chase snorts. “I hope you’re successful. You know all the brothers who are in on that bet will be all over her as soon as she walks in the door.”
My body tenses as I think about any of those assholes putting the moves on Grace. Especially that dick Rob. How he has the balls to even breathe her name, let alone make that bet after what he did to her last year—it infuriates me.
There’s one solution to this. Make sure nobody gets within breathing distance of Grace on Friday night.
And I’ll be the one to do it.