Alycia’s mouth twitches, the hint of a smile she tries to hide. It still manages to hook into me.
“Relax, Coach,” I say, leaning back in my chair. “You make it sound like I’ve never been on a date before.”
“I’m not worried about the date,” Cooper says dryly. “I’m worried about you remembering it’s fake.”
That lands like a slap, and the easy smirk I’ve been hiding behind slips, leaving something raw underneath.Fake.He says it like that word should fit in my mouth as easily as it fits in his, but it doesn’t. It burns going down, bitter and wrong.
My stomach tightens, and for a second, I can’t lookat either of them. Itissupposed to be fake. That’s the plan we came up with to fix the mess, to protect the team, to protect her. But there’s nothing fake about how she’s the first thought in my head every morning and the last one before I crash at night. And there’s nothing fake about how much it kills me.
And hearing it from him makes it worse because I know he’s not trying to be cruel. He’s trying to protect the team. Protect me. But that’s the problem. He doesn’t see what this costs me to play along.
I drag in a slow breath, swallow the bitterness, and shove the mask back on. My voice comes out tight but steady. “Right. Fake. Got it.”
“The press statement is already live.” Alycia straightens a stack of papers, voice perfectly neutral. “We just need to follow through with appearances, keep the story consistent. Show unity, believable affection, and?—”
“Believable affection,” I echo, cutting in. “Does that mean handholding, or do we get creative?”
Her head snaps toward me, eyes narrowing. “Try not to make a scene before we’ve even started.”
“I’m just asking for clarification,” I say, forcing a grin, because that’s what I do when things hurt. I make it a joke.
“You’re giving me a headache,” Cooper groans under his breath.
“Pretty sure that’s genetic,” I shoot back, and the faintest smile ghosts across his face before he shuts it down.
The line between coach and brother flickers there for half a second, disappearing just as quickly.
“So, when’s our first big debut as the world’s most convincing couple?” I lean back in my chair, pretending the tension in the room doesn’t feel like it’s pressing against my ribs.
Alycia exhales slowly, like she’s counting backward from ten. “Next Saturday at six o’clock. I’ll text you the details.”
“Wardrobe guidelines, right?”
“Obviously.”
“Do they include a smile, or is that off-brand for this relationship?”
“Try not to make a scene,” she says without missing a beat. “We’re selling believable, not delusional.”
There’s the spark in her that undid me in the first place.
“You wound me, sweetheart.” I grin because if I don’t, I’ll break.
Her eyes flash at the nickname, that tiny spark of heat she tries to hide surfacing for half a second before she smooths it away. “Don’t call me that.”
“Fine.” I push to my feet, slower than I should, trying to ignore the fact that every inch between us feels like a dare. “Wouldn’t want to violate protocol.”
“You’re impossible.”
“Yeah, but you like me anyway,” I whisper, and the air goes still.
The words hang there between us, and I can feel them land. Her pen stills against the page as her throatworks around a breath she doesn’t take, her pulse beating wildly at the base of her neck.
She doesn’t look at me right away, staring down at the folder in front of her like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded, but the flush creeping up her throat betrays her. The mask slips for half a second, and I see the want she’s trying to bury. When she finally looks up, her gaze is sharp enough to hurt. Her eyes lock on mine, a silent warning I feel more than hear.
Don’t. Don’t make this something real. Don’t make this harder.
I don’t, but I don’t look away either. The silence continues to stretch between us, heavy and dangerous, until Cooper clears his throat like a gunshot. It snaps the moment clean in half.
