“It was actually my friend Aimee that sent in the picture, but yeah. I thought the picture was of LostAxis, not you. If I could go back, I wouldn’t have told Aimee to do it.” I sighed. “I was so frustrated then. Earl’s Whispers had just posted a picture of me crying when I first found out about Devin and Hana. I really hated everyone talking about me all over again, and ... I’m sorry.”
“How many people do you think saw it?”
I shrugged. “A lot of people from my school. I’m not talking about thousands or anything. Couple hundred? Is it a problem if people see it? Technically, the post says I’m friends with this person, not dating him. And you and Iareactually friends now.”
“Are we?” He flashed an incandescent smile, then gave me a sultry expression that made it completely clear why any catfisher would use his picture. “I guess we are.”
I laughed. “The account is @EarlsWhispers, if you want to check and see if you recognize any of the people that commented on the post.”
He shook his head. “No, I can’t. I don’t do Instagram.”
“You don’t have an Instagram account? Do you have a phone? How old are you?”
“Seventeen going on seventy, or at least that’s what the guys on my team say. And yes, I do have a smartphone. Social media isn’t really my thing. And honestly, if youhadactually asked me before using a picture of me as your fake boyfriend, I would have said yes. Show that school that Samaya the Count can get it! Hey, is that the favor you want? Youwant more pictures together?” He put down his spatula and picked up my phone, holding it in front of us like he was going to take a selfie.
I put my hand on his and lowered it, ignoring my stomach fluttering when I touched his skin for the first time.
“Actually, yes. More pictures would help. But I have an offer for you.” I took a breath. “If I tutor you in calculus so you’ll pass your class, will you pretend to be LostAxis, the guy I played online games with, in pictures andin person? Like, come with me to my school’s fall formal in a month?”
Daniel blinked. “You want me to pretend to date you in exchange for math help?”
I nodded. Was I asking too much? All he knew about me was that I was a nerd who was dealing with gossip at school. Why would he do this for me?
“I’m an excellent tutor,” I said. “I’m younger than my sister and I’ve helped her with every math class she’s ever taken. And I’ve helped my friends ... I was the top math student at my school last year.”
He smiled. “So, you’d get your cred back at school, and piss off your ex? And I’d get a free calculus tutor, and I get to take you to a formal dance?”
I nodded again. “Yes. Exactly.”
He grinned. “How can I say no? But hang on. Am I going to have to actually play this dragons and dungeons game?” Daniel asked.
“Dragon Arena. And no.” I shook my head. “Don’t worry about playing. You’ll have to talk about it, but I’ll teach you what you need to know.”
There was no way I could turn a jock into a level-fifty-plus Dark Mage in a few weeks. Or a few months, for that matter.
I was asking a lot from him. He’d have to learn all about a game he didn’t play, plus learn how to pass as a believable nerd, and pretend to be my boyfriend. All that just for some calculus help didn’t seem worthit. But I didn’t know what else I could offer him. I braced myself for disappointment. “So, seriously? You’ll do it?”
He grinned, and I think it was his biggest grin yet. “Yeah, of course. Actually, there is almost nothing I would say no to if you could guarantee I’ll pass calculus.” He wagged his brows. “I’m all yours, Samaya. Turn me into the gamer-nerd of your dreams.”
I grinned, too. I wanted to throw my arms around him and hug him, but I didn’t. Honestly, though? This was going to be fun.
9
We’re Not Going to Use the WordRules, Okay?
While the brownies were in the oven, adding a rich chocolate scent to the citrus aroma (with a bit of beef stew) in the air, I ripped a page out of my notebook, took out a pencil, and sat at one of the high stools at a counter. If we were going to do this, we needed ground rules.
Daniel frowned as I wrote the title on the page.Samaya and Daniel’s Rules for Fake Dating.
“Do we needrules? I hate that word,” Daniel asked.
“You’re a hockey player—youmustbe used to rules.”
He put his hands up defensively. “I am, I am. That’s why I hate them. It might be hard to make a relationship look real with rules. This is my ‘worried about rules’ face.” He made a comical serious-confused expression. “Not very romantic.”
I rolled my eyes and erased the title. I thought and then wrote a new one:Guidelines, Parameters, and Framework for Fake Dating.
Daniel laughed. “Better,” he said.
