Chapter 5

TESSA

The 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 muttered.

“What?”

“Just—run, Tessa.”

And we did.

He grabbed my hand tighter and yanked me through the chaos. Flashes chased us, shouts echoed behind us, and we slid into his black Range Rover like we were robbers escaping a scene.

The door slammed shut.

Breathless. Shaky.

Then I did the stupidest, most instinctive thing ever.

I leaned forward and hugged him.

He stiffened.

Just for a second.

Then I pulled back quickly, heat rushing to my face. “Oh—sorry. I was just… happy to see you. You’ve changed a lot.”

Leo blinked at me. Like he wasn’t sure if I was messing with him.

Then he looked away, shoved the key in the ignition, and muttered, “So have you.”

The car rolled out of the driveway, smooth and fast.

He didn’t talk much. Just tapped his fingers on the wheel while the radio played something soft in the background.

I stared at his profile.

Same sharp jawline. Same thick lashes. But older. Stronger. More guarded.

He wasn’t the boy who gave me lollipops for lunch anymore.

He was Leo freaking Santiago.

And I was in his car. Wearing his jacket. Holding his champagne glass.

Fake dating him. Somehow remembering the real him.

My phone buzzed.

It was an unknown caller.

I frowned and picked up.

“Tessa Lane,” my boss’s voice cracked through the speaker, irritated, sharp. “I don’t care what PR drama you’re involved in—there’s a live match tomorrow. Santiago is on the lineup. That’s your job. Your real job. Not acting like a girlfriend, focus on your job this time.”

“I know—”

“No. You listen. I want exclusive footage, pre and post-game. Interviews if possible. I want your full attention, or don’t come back to the office.”

Click.

I stared at the screen.

Leo raised a brow. “Work drama?”

I turned to him. “Yeah. My boss wants me to stop playing fake girlfriend for a while and focus on my actual job.”

Leo pulled up to the gate in silence.

But just as I reached for the door handle, he stopped me.

Reached into the back seat.

And pulled out a dark blue jersey.

He tossed it on my lap. My name stitched under his. His number. His team. His scent.

“Wear that tomorrow,” he said simply. “VIP seat will be ready. My driver will pick you up at noon.”

“Leo—”

“Promise you’ll come.”

I looked at him. Really looked.

The boy I forgot.

The man I just remembered.

“Okay, I promise.”

He didn’t smile.

Didn’t say a word. Just nodded—once.

Like that was enough.

Maybe it was.

My chest squeezed as I stepped out. The gate buzzed open behind me, but I didn’t move right away.

“Come in, stop looking at his car like you wanna jump on it or do you want to chase him?.”

A voice broke out and I turned my gaze.

It was my friend, Chloe.

“Chloe?” I blinked, surprised. “Wait—how did you get in? Do you have my keys?”

She lifted them up, jingling them like a prize. “Found them under your welcome mat. You really need better hiding spots.”

I sighed and stepped inside, closing the door behind me. “Could’ve just texted, psycho.”

Chloe was already cooking. “I have no time to do that. And before I forget, I have something to tell you.”

“Same. But you go first.” I tossed my jacket over the armrest, still holding Leo’s jersey like a confused fangirl.

She turned, eyes glowing. “I got a job.”

My brows shot up. “What? Where? Coffee shop? Fashion house?”

“Nope.” Chloe beamed like she won the lottery. “I’m dressing a footballer.”

I blinked. “Like… personal stylist?”

“Yes!” she squealed. “Finally! My first real life in the industry. And guess who it is!”

“Oh God,” I groaned. “Don’t tell me it’s some retired uncle on crutches—”

“It’s Leo.”

My blood froze.

I blinked. “Leo which Leo?”

She narrowed her eyes, lips twitching. “Tessa. Don’t play dumb. Leo freaking Santiago.”

My throat dried up.

“He’s been my crush since forever,” Chloe went on, completely unaware of the emotional nuke she just dropped. “Like literal high school daydream material. And now I’m gonna be styling him. Like, physically touching his arms. His abs. Maybe his—”

“Okay—okay!” I threw a pillow at her. “Please. No visuals.”

She giggled. Then her smile faded a bit. “But lately, I keep seeing you with him on the blogs. Socials. News sites. What’s that about?”

I hesitated.

“Tell me it’s fake, Tess,” she said, watching me closely now. “Please. Say it’s just a PR stunt.”

My lips parted. Nothing came out.

“I know Leo would never date someone like you.”

I flinched.

Chloe didn’t even realize what she’d said. Or maybe she did. Her voice softened. “I mean… he’s famous, Tessa. He’s out of your league. I’m just being realistic. You get it, right?”

I swallowed hard.

“You’re right,” I said quietly. “He’s too good for me. And yeah, the dating stuff is fake. Just something to keep the media busy.”

She let out a long sigh. “Thank God. I was scared there for a second. I just… I hope it doesn’t become real.”

I raised a brow. “Are you asking or warning?”

She shrugged. “Both.”

I stared at her for a second. Then I forced a smile. “Don’t worry. It’ll never be real.”