Page 64 of Fake Crown

“Does she know that? Jessica said Val talks about you all the time on her social media platforms. No one on the team knew you broke up. Jess thought you two might be fighting.”

“Not fighting. Broken up. Took Val a while to absorb that outcome.”

“So who the hell is at the hotel?” Ethan frowns.

“Posey Jensen.”

“You’re fucking Posey Jensen now? Wow. I think I’m impressed. She’s a really fun girl.”

I’m not touching that comment. Ethan has slept with lots of women—one of the reasons he and Jessica probably aren’t together—and while Posey never mentioned she had fallen into his bed, I don’t need that mental picture. She came here because she missed me. Whatever happened before us doesn’t matter. I can’t get hung up on what I can’t change.

“I tried to pick her up at a bar once or twice sophomore year. She was not interested.” Ethan shrugs. “Who wouldn’t be interested?” He eyes his muscular body in the mirror.

“Jessica,” I say.

“Fuck off.” Ethan shoves my shoulder and then he laughs. “She’s interested, but she likes to play it cool.”

If I believe Posey’s logic, Jess will never act on whatever feelings she might have for Ethan. He’s too risky for her. It’s too early in the morning for a heart-to-heart when I’m so far from an expert. I’ve got a girl two floors up who won’t admit we’re actually dating even though she took a midnight bus to Chicago because she missed me.

We’re totally dating for real. One hundred percent I am in the most authentic relationship I’ve ever had, and she doesn’t even realize she’s right there with me. Cluing her in would scare her off, so I’ll have to wait for her to figure it out. I wonder how many years we’ll have been dating by the time she admits we’re no longer in a temporary, fake relationship.

“Is she coming to watch?” Ethan asks as he shoves a dry towel into his bag.

“Doubtful. I didn’t tell her where the pool was, and she’s got a big project due on Tuesday.”

“She must really love you to take a midnight bus to Chicago when she’s drowning in schoolwork.” Ethan opens the door to our room and holds it for me to pass through.

Love. Jesus. That’s a big word. My heart kicks in my chest. Not even sure I’m ready for that one. It’s only been two weeks, and I’ve never uttered that sentiment to a woman, no matter how much pleasure was being exchanged. There’s definitely a strong chance I could mean those words with Posey. A lot of things I once thought impossible don’t seem so unfeasible now.

“She’s pretty incredible,” I say as I slide past him into the hallway, and we walk toward the bus to the pool with our bags slung over our shoulders.

“I’m happy for you, man. Val was hot. Don’t get me wrong. Like five-alarm-fire hot. I can see why that’d be attractive. But I never bought what her socials tried to sell about the two of you being deeply in love. You looked great together, but it just felt so superficial. Glossy, but fake.”

Glossy, but fake. Probably the truest thing I’ve ever heard in regard to Val and me. Ethan’s insightfulness is stunning. The guy is a workhorse in the pool, but a class-A partier out of it. His whole problem with Jess seems to be that she can’t or won’t take him seriously. For him to see something in Val and me that I might have felt but didn’t acknowledge is sort of amazing.

“Took me a while to see the difference between fake and real. But I get it now.” Fake might have suited me then, but that won’t be what I’m pursuing again when the real is so much more fulfilling.

Posey

Once I wake up and get over the surprise of having traveled to Chicago on a whim, I buckle down to finish my project. Brent’s scribbled note says he has the afternoon off and then he’ll likely have to swim in the final races tonight. A quick internet search revealed there are consolation finals and championship finals. I’m assuming Brent will be in the championship ones, but I’ve never been to a live swim meet before. May have watched him once or twice on YouTube after the fact. It’s important to appreciate talent, and when the talent is a work of art, it makes the appreciation even easier. I do like pretty things.

I’m putting the finishing touches on my project when there’s a knock on my door just after lunch. Room service has come and gone, so the only person it can be is Brent. My stomach flips, and I close my laptop before going to the door. I’m close enough to finishing that I can worry about the last bit on Monday.

Through the peephole, the sight of him sends a wave of tingles across my skin. Dark-gray sweats and a red Northern University T-shirt should not skyrocket my heart rate, but it’s definitely out of control when I open the door. I used to love just the look of him, but now I’m afraid I’ve developed a soft spot for the whole package.

Brent takes me in for a beat while leaning into the doorway. “How’s the project going?”

“Almost done. How did your races go?” I step back from the door. “Did you want to come in?”

“I actually wanted to see if you were up for a late lunch with some of my teammates. They’re going to a buffet.” He waggles his brows. “A buffet, Jensen.”

I laugh at his obvious enthusiasm. Sex and food are Brent’s two favorite things. When we’ve combined them, he’s been insatiable.

“You want me to come with you?” I lean against the door.

He smooths my hair and plants a kiss on my forehead. “Very much,” he murmurs against my skin. “But if you need to focus on your work, that’s totally fine too.” He draws me into his chest for a hug, and I sink into him. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

For a fake boyfriend, he’s been affectionate and attentive from our first meeting at the airport. He also happens to give the best hugs, and when he holds me close and I breathe in the familiar scent of chlorinated water, I realize my split-second decision to hop on a bus to Chicago was for this moment. I don’t just feel wanted; I feel cared for. The best kind of close contact, and one I’ve been denying myself since Chris tried to turn me into someone I wasn’t.