Dating The Bad Boy Striker

TESSA“Tessa, you’re needed right now. Leo Santiago is doing a live Q&A with fans and you’re covering it,” Katerina said, thrusting a thick folder into my chest.I blinked. “Wait—what? Nobody told me I’d be—”“The reporter scheduled for it is stuck in traffic, and you’re the only one available. Please, just go. They’re waiting for you.” She didn’t wait for me to object. She was already halfway down the corridor, heels clicking like gunshots.“I’m not even dressed for this,” I muttered, glancing down at my oversized button-up, coffee stain just below my waistline like a sad trophy. I looked like I’d fallen out of a laundry basket. Because I had. Twice. This morning.No time to change.Before I could turn and run, a studio assistant appeared and all but herded me like cattle toward the main media room. Giant screens lit up the dark corners of the hall. Cameras everywhere. A large crowd of reporters already seated, scribbling notes and whispering like vultures in heels.I stepped in, awk

TESSAI blinked at her.Fake dating?Was she serious?Sloane looked dead serious. Like she just drafted a ten-point strategy plan in her head and was ready to bulldoze through anything—or anyone—that didn’t cooperate.“This isn’t a joke,” she said sharply, crossing her arms like some kind of PR principal ready to give me detention for breathing wrong. “We don’t have time for second opinions. We have a crisis. A real one. And Leo’s image is priority.”I stepped back, heart slamming like it was trying to break out of my chest. “I’m not a celebrity. I’m not even full-time. I write copy for coffee ads and then I report things, I am just a low reporter trying to build her career to the top.”Sloane rolled her eyes. “And now you’re the girl the world saw fall into Leo Santiago’s lap like a rom-com scene gone viral. Welcome to the big leagues.”“This is insane,” I whispered, more to myself.She stepped forward, her stilettos clicking like warning shots. “You want to quit? Go ahead. But your

TESSAThe flashbulbs didn’t stop.The screaming. The chaos. The questions.But all I could hear was my heartbeat—and Leo’s voice from moments ago.“You don’t remember me, do you?”I remembered now. Every inch of him. The boy with the busted lip who stood between me and three girls in the locker room hallway. The boy who handed me his hoodie when I cried through detention. The boy who left a crumpled letter in my locker with words I was too scared to believe at the time.Leo Santiago.My childhood hero.My first almost.Now standing beside me, pretending to be my boyfriend—while the entire world lost their mind around us.Reporters lunged forward.“LEO! Did you two really date in high school?!”“Is this why she moved cities?!”“Is she the girl you wrote that note to?!”Leo didn’t flinch. He reached for my hand. Not for show this time.His fingers were warm. Familiar. Real.I didn’t know what I was doing, but I squeezed his hand back.Then the crowd surged forward too fast.“Run,” he mu

TESSAI was about to speak up when a voice broke out behind me.“Don’t get too emotional or spoiled about everything, or do you want me to remind you that it’s just a plan?” Sloane said, her voice low but sharp enough to slice through the roar of the crowd.I let out a deep breath, my eyes fixed on Leo as he jogged back to his teammates, sweat glinting under the stadium lights.“I know,” I muttered, forcing calm into my tone. “So please… take it easy on me. Because I can see you don’t like me.”Her laugh was soft, dry, unimpressed. “Well I don’t.” “And come to think of it,” I went on, turning just enough to catch the flicker of annoyance on her face, “you’re the one who suggested this fake dating thing anyway. So why do you hate me this much?”Sloane didn’t even blink. Her arms folded tightly across her blazer, every inch of her the polished PR handler.“You’re just an upcoming reporter,” she said, her words deliberate, clipped. “I’m helping you here. Don’t twist it into something se