Page 25 of Enchanted to Meet You

“And I’m a part of this because…”

“You’re my girlfriend,” he said. It had been two days and still those words sent a chill down my spine—and not in a good way. “So you’ve been conscripted. Congratulations. Landon’s coming too, if that helps.”

“Nobody asked me if I wanted to be conscripted.”

“Nobody asked me either. Welcome to the club.”

“And Kelcey’s coming because…?” I prompted. As far as I saw it, Kelcey coming along was the only reason for me to come along—both because it meant Justin had set the precedent of bringing girlfriends into this weird tradition and because she was the one Rhys was pretending for. I’d been saved from the embarrassment in front of Justin the moment Rhys jumped up to say I was his girlfriend—I didn’t need to parade around with Rhys in front of him this much to make him believe me. This was for Rhys’s benefit.

Fine, and maybe mine a little bit because now I got to see Justin again, lifting heavy weights nonetheless. I may be trapped in a fake relationship with his stepbrother right now, but I could still find the silver lining here.

“Because wherever Justin goes, Kelcey goes.” His jaw tightened when he said her name, gone as fast as it came. I wondered what happened between them, how exactly she’d gone from dating Rhys to dating his stepbrother. Had she started dating Justin before he and Rhys lived together, or had she met Justin through him? Until she showed up on Saturday, I had no idea she existed, which made me wonder if they’d only started dating recently, but then again, since she didn’t go to Parkhurst, maybe it wasn’t known by many people. I was desperate to ask Rhys about it, but I knew he would dodge the question.

The gym he brought me to had floor-to-ceiling windows and a smoothie bar built into the lobby, a much fancier place than I would have expected the average high school student to have a membership at. I recognized Justin’s car in the lot from the times I’d seen him driving around, though he and Kelcey weren’t waiting for us outside, unlike Landon who had been leaning on the outside wall and scrolling on his phone. As we walked up, he said, “Fair warning, Kelcey’s in a mood.”

“When is she not?” Rhys muttered, low enough I almost missed it, and pushed through the doors before I could ask any follow-up questions.

We passed quickly through the spacious lobby, the sound of our footsteps echoing through the large expanse. I stuck close to Rhys, feeling out of my element as he walked up to a desk and got a guest pass for me—something he reassured me was part of his membership—then to the doors of the locker rooms. He stopped and turned so suddenly that I crashed straight into his chest for the second time that day, but he easily stopped me from staggering backward as he put his hands on my shoulders and steadied me. I blinked in surprise at the sudden touch, but he seemed completely unaffected.

“Do you have better clothes?” he asked, his gaze running down my body briefly before returning to my face.

“Little late if I don’t,” I quipped back. He stared at me flatly until I sighed and said, “I’ve got an extra outfit in my bag. Not the best workout clothes, but they’ll do.”

That said, after today, I would definitely be keeping extra clothes in my bag at all times just in case—clearly Rhys was not looking to be predictable or offering up information in advance. I got changed quickly, switching out my tights and leotard for the black stretchy shorts and one of Sebastian’s old Parkhurst Prep Soccer T-shirts that was big enough to throw on over my leotard when needed and could work well enough for a workout over the sports bra I was already wearing. I was sure Rhys would have some words about the shirt, but it was his own fault that I didn’t have the right clothes.

When I pushed open the locker room door, Rhys was waiting in the hallway with his back propped against the tiled wall.

He looked up as the door heavy-swung shut, and his eyes dropped instantly to my chest, tracking the faded white lettering of the Parkhurst Prep Soccer logo across the oversized shirt. For a long, painful second, his whole expression went completely blank. His jaw set in a rigid line pulling at the corners of his mouth, and his fingers closed around his phone with enough force that his knuckles turned white.

I bristled, tugging defensively at the oversized hem. “What?”

“Tell me you’re not wearing my rival’s jersey to my gym.” His voice was low, laced with a sudden, sharp edge that I immediately misread as pure disgust.

“It’s a T-shirt, not a jersey. And it belongs to my brother,” I snapped back, folding my arms across my chest—which only highlighted the logo more. “You didn’t give me time to go home and change, remember? Unless you brought an extra outfit in that designer gym bag of yours, you’re stuck with it.”

Rhys stared at the logo for one more beat, a strange shadow passing over his eyes before he looked up to meet my gaze. The disgust I’d expected wasn’t there; instead, his eyes looked uncomfortably intense as if the sight of me in a Parkhurst soccer shirt was actively physically painful for him to look at.

Without breaking my stare, his arm came behind the back of his head, and in one swift motion, he was tugging his own T-shirt off and tossing it at me. I caught it just before it overtook my face and drowned me in the scent of his cologne. “Wear that instead.”

I toss it back to him. “No thank you.”

He caught it easily. “If I have to look at the Parkhurst crest for another hour, I’m going to throw up.”

“You’re so dramatic,” I muttered.

He locked eyes with me, closing the distance between us in three swift strides. He was just a breath away now. Rhys reached out and grabbed my hand, then shoved the T-shirt into it.

“You agreed to be convincing.” His voice was a low murmur. He leaned in even closer, the next words just for me. “A good boyfriend would make sure his girl is wearing his school shirt. And I am nothing if not a good boyfriend.”

I gritted my teeth, irritated because he was sort of right. About the T-shirt part. The good boyfriend part though?

“I highly doubt that’s true,” I said, snatching the T-shirt from his hands and turning back into the locker room to tug it on over my head.

When we walked into the gym together,

Justin was stretched out on a bench near the weight racks when we found them, headphones in, nodding along to something only he could hear. Kelcey sat on the edge of the mat beside him, scrolling her phone in a co-ordinating workout outfit that seemed like something an influencer would wear. My clothes, which hadn’t seem too embarrassing in the locker room, suddenly felt like the ugliest, frumpiest outfit ever.

She looked up when we walked in, and her eyes did a quick lap over me, Rhys, the space between us, before settling into something bright that didn’t come anywhere near her eyes.