Chapter Two #3
“You always arrive an hour early.”
Piper stared at him.
Emmett had said too much.
Tyler noticed.
Of course he did.
“Oh,” Tyler said.
Emmett looked at him.
Tyler’s mouth closed.
Piper folded the rules and placed them in her event bag.
“Tomorrow night. Seven. Briar Bean.”
“No.”
She turned.
“What now?”
“Too public.”
“That is the purpose.”
“You hate eating while strangers watch you.”
Her expression went blank.
Everyone else became silent.
Emmett should not have known that.
He knew because he had watched Piper at four sponsor dinners. She moved food around the plate, smiled, and waited until afterward to eat alone.
Piper adjusted the strap of her bag.
“I do not hate it.”
“You do.”
“I manage.”
“That was not my point.”
She looked at him for a long moment.
“Then where?”
“The old dock past Brennan’s cabins.”
“There is nothing there.”
“Exactly.”
“It is supposed to be public.”
“We post photographs afterward.”
“People will say it is staged.”
“It is staged.”
Ava laughed.
Piper looked at the ceiling again.
“Fine. The old dock. Seven.”
“Bring a sweater.”
“I know how evenings work.”
“You forgot one last week.”
“I did not forget it. I made a choice.”
“You complained for forty minutes.”
“It was cold.”
Emmett picked up his duffel.
Piper watched him.
“Do you remember everything I do?”
The question was lighter than the others.
The answer was not.
“No.”
A lie.
Her eyes held his.
He wondered whether she recognized it.
Maren opened the tent flap.
“Everyone needs to get back outside before Paulson starts running activities himself.”
Griffin led Tyler out first.
Beckett followed, still discussing possible date themes with Miles.
Ava and Nate left together.
Piper paused beside Emmett.
“We need a photograph.”
“For what?”
“The announcement post.”
She glanced at his damp shirt and athletic shorts.
“You look like you came from practice.”
“I came from practice.”
“I look like I have been publicly ambushed.”
“You were.”
“This is not helping.”
“It was not meant to.”
Piper breathed out.
Then she stepped closer and placed one hand against his chest.
Emmett stopped breathing.
Her palm was small and warm through his shirt.
She looked toward Maren, who raised the phone.
“Arm around me,” Piper said.
Emmett obeyed.
His hand settled at her waist again.
Piper leaned into him.
The pose should have felt artificial.
It did not.
Maren took several photographs.
“Closer,” she said.
Piper tipped her face toward Emmett’s.
Her cheek brushed his jaw.
Every muscle in his body locked.
She smelled like vanilla, sunscreen, and the faint citrus soap from the event bathrooms.
“Smile,” Piper murmured.
“I am.”
“No, you look like you are identifying a threat.”
“I am a goalie.”
“That is not a personality.”
“It has worked so far.”
Her real smile appeared.
Small.
Unexpected.
Maren captured it.
Emmett knew because her expression changed when she looked at the screen.
“That is the one.”
Piper stepped back.
The loss hit again.
He was beginning to dislike that.
Maren typed the caption and held the phone toward them.
The envelope picked the wrong guy. We’re keeping him anyway. Thirty days. Six dates. Ten thousand dollars for Lake Briar youth hockey. What could go wrong?
Piper read it.
“Everything.”
Maren smiled. “That can be the next post.”
She published the photograph.
Piper’s phone began vibrating inside her bag almost immediately.
Then Emmett’s did the same.
He removed it.
A message from his agent filled the screen.
Call me. Now. This is either brilliant or catastrophic.
Piper glanced at the message.
“Which do you think?”
“Catastrophic.”
“Good. We agree on something.”
Her phone rang again.
The name on the screen was visible before she turned it away.
Owen.
Piper’s smile vanished.
Emmett looked at her.
“Do not answer.”
Her chin lifted.
“You do not make decisions for me.”
“No.”
He held her gaze.
“But if he calls because he saw that photograph, he is not calling to apologize.”
Piper looked at the screen until the call ended.
A message appeared.
She read it.
The color drained from her face.
Emmett’s body became alert.
“What did he say?”
Piper locked the phone.
“Nothing.”
“That was not nothing.”
“It does not matter.”
“Piper.”
She looked at him.
The performance returned so quickly it would have convinced anyone else.
“I will see you tomorrow, fake boyfriend.”
She walked out of the tent before he could answer.
Emmett waited until she disappeared into the crowd.
Then he looked down.
A preview of Owen’s message had flashed across the screen before Piper locked it.
He had seen enough.
You have no idea what Emmett is hiding. Ask him why he really agreed.
Emmett stood alone in the equipment tent, the rules of their fake relationship still visible through the side pocket of Piper’s bag as she walked away.
No private information without permission.
No real kissing.
No feelings.
Emmett had already broken one rule.
Owen apparently knew enough to threaten another.
And tomorrow night, Emmett would have to decide whether telling Piper the truth would end their fake relationship before the first date even began.