Brooks raised his brows. “You know my stats?”
“Of course I do!” Just because I’m a bookworm, everyone seems to forget I actuallyreallylike baseball too.
“How?” he asked.
“There’s this really cool thing called the Internet, and I looked up your old high school. By the way, your Freshman pic? I’m glad you cut your hair,” I added.
Again with that crooked grin. Blue eyes sparkled. “Don’t like my throw-back mullet?”
“Ew. No. Some things from my parents’ high school days should die there.”
“What would you have done if I’d shown up with my freshman haircut? Still pretended to date me, or would I have experienced instant rejection at the hands of a discriminating female?”
His teasing made his grin deepen, and for a second, my eyes dropped to his mouth.
Stop that, Walters!
I jerked my gaze back to meet his eyes.
His eyes had narrowed.
I think he’d noticed me looking at his mouth, and I think he knew why I was blushing now. I could feel it. The red. Creeping up my neck.
“Nope.” I quickly hurried to answer his question. “I need afakeboyfriend, so I would’ve dealt with your mullet.” Emphasis on the word “fake.” I didn’t want Brooks to think I was developing real feelings for him.
Not at all.
Chapter 18
Brooks
I didn’t want to put more pressure on Brielle. That’s why I didn’t say anything to her about the recruiter who’d contacted Coach. I thought I was getting to know her well enough now to know she’d really take it to heart—that my future on the team and maybe in baseball had to do with me keeping up the appearance of being a responsible and ethical athlete. I was ethical in sports. Maybe just not in dating. If they found out our entire relationship was faked, then that’d be a big knock against my integrity. The funny thing? The whole reason we started fake dating was so people wouldn’t find out about Brielle’s AI boyfriend bit. Now? We just looked like a walking romance story.
We made it through the rest of the day, skipping school. I dropped Brielle—and Reece’s truck—off at her house, and then Reece gave me a ride home. Apparently, Mr. Walters went to Principal Carson and told him, in no uncertain terms, that the media were not allowed to speak with his daughter about our relationship.
Kudos to Mr. Walters.
My dad got a call from school about me being absent. He fibbed about a dentist appointment and apologized for not getting a note to the office. No onewas fooled, really. But it worked. Then Dad made sure all my teachers emailed me homework for the missed classes, and I was told in no uncertain terms that if I didn’t get it all done, he’d refuse to let me try out for baseball.
I think Dad secretly hoped I’d crash out.
I didn’t.
I got it all done by 3 AM.
Besides, I knew if Dad ever put his foot down on my playing baseball, it’d probably be the final straw between him and Mom. Not because Mom loved baseball, but because she wanted me to pursue my dream.
Parents who have problems in their marriage try to tell the kids it’s not their fault. But I see why kids think it is. I mean, knowing in my head that my playing baseball or not was big enough to cause fights couldn’t really leave me feeling any differently.
I was glad when the week was over. I was glad to head over to the Brielle’s house Friday night. I didn’t even mind the extra-tight handshake Mr. Walters gave me, as if he was reminding me who he was. We ate pizza—I think the Walters family has a thing for pizza—and watched a movie. Reece sat between Brielle and me on the couch, and her parents sat on a loveseat recliner. I will admit, I was bummed I wasn’t sitting by Brielle. But only because I wanted to tease her during the parts of the movie when a massive spider started chasing the main character. I’d learned two days before how much she hated spiders when I caught her hyperventilating by her locker when an arachnid the size of my pinky fingernail scurried out from under one of her shoes. She’d told me to call 911. I told her there was no way. She didn’t talk to me for the rest of the day, and that’s when I also learned that Brielle can really hold a grudge when you don’t go all John Wick on spiders.
After the movie, Brielle and her mom went into the kitchen, and Mr. Walters told Reece and me to follow him. He led us into the garage and pulled three cans of Mountain Dew out of the fridge, handing them to us.
“Level with me,” he said, popping his can open with a snap.
Reece didn’t seem worried.
I was immediately freaked out.
