But now?
Now, every time I closed my eyes, I saw that look on his face.
And I couldn’t decide what scared me more—that it might’ve been real… or that I might want it to be.
Cameron’s text came in like a siren blaring through my phone. No punctuation. All caps. Full panic and triumph rolled into one.
THEY LOVE YOU Keep it going Seriously You two are trending across platforms The League is impressed This might actually save Kieren’s ass and make you the media darling of the season
I stared at it for a second, letting the words sink in like acid.
Then I muttered, “I hate how good we are at faking this.”
What I didn’t say—what I wouldn’t say out loud—was what came next, like a traitorous whisper inside my head.
I really hate how easy it was to forget we were faking it.
The truth sat heavy in my chest, coiled and quiet. I pulled up the video. The video. The hand-holding moment—captioned, looped, and slowed down like we were the romantic leads in a sports drama no one knew they needed.
There was no sound, just the faint static of crowd noise. But I could hear it in my head. The shuffle of his shoes on pavement. The dry, amused lilt in his voice. The hush that settled over me when he reached out.
His hand found mine like it wasn’t even a choice.
Like instinct.
Not obligation.
Not a performance.
My thumb hovered over the pause button as the moment played again. My fingers curling into his. The way I didn’t flinch. Didn’t hesitate. If anything, I’d leaned into it.
My phone buzzed again, but I didn’t check it.
Instead, I opened another clip—one I hadn’t meant to save but did anyway. A fan edit. Someone had slowed down his smile, added soft lighting, and stitched in a Lana Del Rey song like this was some doomed lovers edit on Tumblr.
The caption?
He looks at her like he wants to ruin her… respectfully.
I should’ve laughed.
I didn’t.
My stomach flipped.
It was just a video. Just an angle. A moment exaggerated by slow motion and good lighting and hormones. But still…
Why did it feel real?
Why did I remember the weight of his hand so clearly?
Not just how it felt—but the way he held mine. Like it meant something.
I blinked, realizing I hadn’t responded to Cameron. Hadn’t responded to anyone. My inbox was full of texts, notifications, fire emojis and screaming gifs.
I didn’t move.
Just stared.
