4

Chapter Four

Mia

“What the fuck?” Stacey said as soon as I broke the kiss, looking between us both.

She stormed off.

While Scott was staring at me. “Did you just kiss me?”

“Yes, and I accept.”

“Accept what?”

“Your offer. I'll need to be paid, though. Hefty and I might need your connection.”

“Anything. Let's talk more.”

We made our way upstairs, and just as we reached one of the rooms, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Reid saying he had to leave early and that I needed to call Mom and Dad.

I sent him a reply, saying to be safe.

“So, what made you change your mind?” Scott asked; he was staring at me with a weird expression on his face.

I shrugged. “Does that matter? What matters is that I'm here to save your ass.”

“It wouldn't have anything to do with what happened between you and Zara, right?”

“Maybe. What do you care?”

“I don't, trust me. But it's hot seeing two girls fight over me.”

“Don't make me regret this, Scott Dylan.”

I pressed my hand to my temple.

“Fine. You're right. I don't want to be doing this either, but we need each other.”

I wrinkled my nose. “You need me. I merely found a cash cow.”

“Jesus. You are nothing like your brother, you know that?”

“I know I'm better.”

“How much do you want?” he asked.

“Four thousand dollars a week.”

His eyebrows shot up.

“Four thousand?”

“You heard me.”

“Mia, that's ridiculous.”

“You're a projected NHL draft pick with sponsorships and an agent. I'm not asking you to empty your bank account.”

He stared at me for a moment before sighing.

“Fine. Four thousand a week.”

“Good.”

I smiled, but then another thought occurred to me.

“And I want your help with Zara.”

His expression immediately flattened.

“Absolutely not.”

“Then there's no deal.”

“You're seriously making revenge against Zara part of our fake-dating arrangement?”

“Yes.”

“Mia, I'm not getting involved in some schoolgirl feud.”

I folded my arms. “Then find another fake girlfriend.”

His jaw tightened.

“You're impossible.”

“And yet I'm still your best option.”

He stared at me for several long seconds before finally exhaling.

“Fine. I'll help you.”

“Good.”

I held out my hand, and after a moment, he shook it.

“Now, we'll need a contract,” I said. “We'll put everything in writing, including how long this arrangement lasts.”

“Until I get drafted.”

I immediately pulled my hand away.

“Excuse me?”

He shrugged.

“You wanted honesty.”

“You told me this would last until you got scouted.”

I stared at him.

“You lied to me.”

His mouth twitched. “I gave you the version that got you to say yes.”

“You're an asshole.”

“Probably.”

I rubbed my forehead.

“This could last a year and a half.”

“Possibly.”

“What if I meet someone I actually like?”

“I don't care.”

“You don't care?”

“We're not actually dating. You can have a private life.”

I narrowed my eyes.

“And what exactly happens when people find out my fake boyfriend is still sleeping around?”

He shrugged.

“Then don't let them find out.”

I scoffed. “Easy for you to say.”

I thought about it for another moment.

“Fine. If you're asking me to risk my reputation for the next year and a half, I want a larger payment upfront. Forty thousand dollars. Then two thousand every month, plus another fifty thousand when this arrangement ends.”

His mouth fell open.

“Fifty thousand?”

“You heard me.”

“You've lost your mind.”

“No. I've realized exactly how valuable my reputation is going to be once everyone thinks I'm dating you.”

He stared at me, clearly doing the math in his head.

“Fine.”

I blinked.

“Really?”

“Fine. I'll have my lawyers draw up the contract.”

A smile slowly spread across my face.

“Good. Then we have a deal.”

He pointed a finger at me.

“But before you get too excited, we need rules.”

“Rule number one,” I said. “Neither of us falls in love.”

Scott laughed.

“That's not even worth writing down.”

“Write it down anyway.”

“Rule number two: no sex.”

His eyebrows lifted.

“I wasn't planning on it.”

“Good. Rule number three: no jealousy. We don't get to question who the other person spends time with when we're not pretending to be together.”

“Agreed.”

“Rule number four: we don't interfere with each other's private lives.”

“Fine.”

“Rule number five: when we're in public, we act like a real couple. Holding hands, kissing when necessary, whatever we need to do to make people believe us.”

Scott's mouth curved into a smug smile.

"Whatever do we need to do?”

“Don't get any ideas.”

“Wouldn't dream of it.”

“And finally, neither of us exposes the arrangement. Not to the media, not to the school, not to our friends, and definitely not to Reid.”

Scott nodded.

“The relationship ends when I get my NHL contract.”

I held out my hand.

“Deal?”

He shook it.

“Deal.”

Just as I was about to leave, the door suddenly swung open.

Reid barged in.

His eyes landed on Scott and then me.

Before either of us could speak.

He swung at Scott and punched him right in the jaw.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? That's my sister?”

“Wait, man. Before you lose your mind, there's an explanation.”

“An explanation for kissing my little sister?”

Reid's voice was low and dangerous.

“Technically, she kissed me.”

His eyes snapped toward me.

“Mia?”

I swallowed.

“It's not what you think.”

“Then what the hell is it?”

Scott glanced at me.

“Tell him.”

I hesitated.

Reid's expression hardened.

“Mia, if you don't explain what the hell is going on right now, I'm going to hit him again.”

“It's fake,” I blurted.

Silence.

Reid stared at me.

Scott exhaled slowly. “That's what I was trying to explain.”

“Fake?” Reid repeated.

I nodded slowly.

“We're fake-dating.”

Reid held his head in his hand. “I really wish you had told me about this sooner.”

“I'm sorry.”

“I don't like this,” Reid said finally. “But if you're determined to do it, I'll stay out of it. Just don't make me regret trusting either of you.”

“Trust me, Mia is the last woman I'd ever fall for. You know that.”

“Oh, fuck you and your ridiculously perfect dark hair.”

It wasn't true. His hair was annoyingly beautiful—dark, thick waves that looked like he'd spent absolutely no effort making them that way. I definitely wasn't going to tell him that.

“Well then. I hope you know what you're talking about." He asked, and I nodded

I left before Reid did.

And when Stacey found me, I braced myself for the round of questions.

“You kissed Scott Dylan.”

I winced.

“Technically—”

“Don't you dare say that, technically.”

“It isn't what you think.”

“Then what the hell is it?”

Shit. Shit. I was going to have to lie to her.

For the first time since I'd met Stacey, I was keeping something this big from her.

And the worst part was that I already knew I was going to have to keep lying.

“I wanted to punish Zara. She…she was the reason I got rejected from Sports Dawn.

“You got rejected?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, sweetie.” She hugged me. “When was this?”

“A couple of hours ago before the party," I said. “But it's fine; I'll figure things out.”

I already had, but I couldn't tell her that either.

“Wanna go home?”

I nodded.

“Good. Let's go.”

******

I woke up to the sound of my phone beeping.

I picked it up. Two missed calls from Mom, two from Dad. One message from Scott.

I opened it and rolled my eyes.

“Hey, honey banana…. Hope you're ready. We are going for an out-of-school game next week. Can't wait to be with you.”

I almost gagged. Apart from Scott's odd message, I was fucking happy about this.

An away game means I would get you an interview with other players besides my school’s team.

I was happy.

At this rate, I would win journalist of the school twice in a row.

Yes!

I got dressed and made my way downstairs. Stacey was long gone for her early morning classes

As I stepped out, I found Scott waiting beside his Porsche.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I asked.

“Is there any way to talk to your boyfriend?”

I rolled my eyes.

“Get in,” he said.

“Excuse me?”

“We're supposed to be dating.”

“We've been dating for approximately twelve hours.”

“Exactly. And you're already making me regret it.”

“Good. We're off to a great start.”

He opened the door for me, and immediately, camera flashes burst around us. Shutters clicked from every direction. “How surreal,” I muttered. “Usually I'd be the one behind the camera.”

“I don't like this at all.”

Scott scoffed. “You'd better. You're being paid good money for this shit.” I rolled my eyes.

Scott spent most of the drive on the phone with his father, talking to him like they were business partners rather than father and son. I tuned them both out, deciding that some privacy was better than a juicy story.

He dropped me off in my class and moved to kiss me. I dodged.

“You can't avoid kissing someone you're dating.”

“I'll avoid it as much as I can.” I said, immediately remembering the kiss between us last night. It had been quick, but one thing was for sure: Scott was a good kisser. I almost didn't want to stop.

“Alright. See you after class.*

Classes went by incredibly slowly. By the time I was done, it was 6pm, and Scott was waiting for me outside, dressed in a blue sweater that made his eyes pop and jeans.

“Evening, girlfriend.”

Scott handed me a bouquet of flowers, wearing the most irritatingly charming smile I'd ever seen.

I stared at the flowers, then at him.

“You're enjoying this way too much.”

“I'm enjoying watching you pretend you don't like it.”

His breath brushed my cheek, and something warm curled low in my stomach. I hated the reaction immediately.

As soon as we got into the car, Scott gave me the papers to read. “Read, sign, and bring it back to me. Your brother also wants to have a meeting with us at Dip-Sip.”

I nodded. “Sure.”

We pulled up to my dorm, and once again, Scott opened the side of my car and helped me out, then his eyes suddenly drifted behind me.

I followed him and rolled my eyes.

“Staring at another girl's ass while your girlfriend is here.”

“Fake. Let's remember that.”

“Oh, I do.” I smirked.

He helped me carry my bag, and we both went up even though he insisted he could fuck off.

“My roommate may be home," I said.

I opened the door and froze.

My mother and father were sitting on my bed.

For a second, nobody moved.

Then my mother's eyes shifted from me to Scott, who was standing directly behind me.

Her eyebrows rose.

My father's expression hardened.

“Well, well,” my mother said slowly. “If it isn't the prodigal daughter.”

My stomach dropped.

Oh, shit.