Chapter 6

TESSA

The alarm blasted like a fire drill.

I groaned, slapped at my phone blindly until the noise died, and buried my face back into the pillow.

Why did mornings exist?

Why did I agree to this fake girlfriend nonsense?

Why did Leo Santiago still smell like heaven even through a jersey?

Wait—

I sat up suddenly, eyes adjusting to the daylight pouring through the window.

And froze.

Chloe was standing in front of my mirror.

Wearing Leo’s jersey.

Like it was hers.

Like she owned it.

Like she wasn’t committing wardrobe-level treason right in front of me.

“Chloe.” My voice was a mix of horror and sleep. “What the hell are you doing?”

She turned, all bright-eyed and proud. “It’s cute, right? I saw it hanging on your chair. I assumed it was a freebie from your press event or something.”

My mouth opened. Then closed. Then it opened again.

“That’s not— It’s not for you.” I scrambled out of bed, practically lunging at her. “Hand it over. Now.”

She blinked at me. “Relax, psycho. I didn’t stretch it or anything. Whose is it anyway?”

I hesitated for a beat too long. “It’s for… a giveaway. For one of our followers. Signed jersey. Very exclusive. I need it intact.”

Chloe frowned. “Huh. Okay.”

She peeled it off and tossed it to me without much thought. “You’re acting weird.”

“I’m not acting weird,” I said, already clutching the fabric like it was gold. “I just—don’t want your foundation on Leo’s—I mean the jersey.”

Too late. Her eyes narrowed. “Leo’s what?”

“I need to shower.” I walked off before she could press.

The water couldn’t run fast enough. I scrubbed like I was washing the guilt off me.

I should’ve been honest.

But Chloe was obsessed with Leo. And if she knew I was wearing his jacket, riding in his car, sitting in the VIP box—she’d lose her damn mind.

By the time I stepped out, towel wrapped around me and steam still curling through the air, she was sitting on my bed with her phone in her hand.

“Can I come with you today?” she asked, not looking up. “You said there’s a game, right?”

“No,” I said too fast. “It’s work stuff. Super boring. Long. And you’d need a press pass. You don’t have one.”

She pouted. “Still could’ve asked.”

I ignored her and got dressed quickly. Jeans. Tank top. Leo’s jersey over it. It fit better than I expected, like it was always supposed to be mine.

Right on cue, a honk sounded outside.

I glanced through the blinds. A sleek black SUV was waiting at the curb.

“I gotta go,” I said, grabbing my bag.

“Tell Leo I said hi!” Chloe called after me.

I paused at the door. “What?”

She looked up from her phone, smirking. “I mean if you see him just extend my greetings to him.”

I walked out before she could read me any deeper.

The driver opened the back door like clockwork.

“Miss Lane,” he greeted politely. “Mr. Santiago requested we take you straight to the stadium.”

“Cool,” I muttered, sliding in.

As the car pulled away, my phone buzzed.

Leo: Hope you slept well. Don’t freak out when the cameras catch you in my jersey. You look hot in it.

My face heated immediately. I stared out the window and bit back a grin.

I tried not to smile like an idiot. I really did.

I nearly replied with a heart emoji.

Replying with a love emoji would be stupid of me.

This is just a fake deal.

By the time we hit the stadium, the chaos outside was unreal—horns blaring, fans screaming, faces painted, bodies in jerseys everywhere. The SUV cut through the crowd and pulled into a private lane.

Security flagged us through without hesitation.

But as soon as I stepped out?

Cameras. Everywhere.

Fans screamed my name like I was Taylor Swift and Beyoncé in one body.

“LEO’S GIRLFRIEND!”

“She’s wearing his number!”

“She’s here to support her man!”

“OMG, TESSA, SMILE FOR US!”

I blinked like I’d just walked into a music video.

Flashes went off so fast my vision spotted. My hand instinctively clutched the hem of Leo’s jersey. I felt exposed and famous and terrified all at once.

Security led me through to the private VIP section, and even that didn’t calm the madness. I slipped into my seat, still reeling from the attention.

Just as I sat down and took a shaky breath, a voice exploded through the speaker system.

“Ladies and gentlemen, looks like we’ve got someone special in the house today…”

I froze.

“Front row, VIP box… wearing Leo Santiago’s jersey… it’s his girlfriend!”

My soul left my body.

A thousand heads turned toward me. Cameras followed. Phones shot up in the air like weapons.

My face was on the jumbo screen.

I sank into the seat like I could disappear.

And then—

He looked up.

Leo.

From across the field, Leo spotted me.

No hesitation. No searching. Just a straight, confident wave like he already knew where I’d be. Like this stadium, the noise, the crowd—it didn’t exist.

Only me.

The fans lost it. I nearly forgot how to breathe.

Then he smirked. 

I waved back, pretending like I wasn’t melting inside.

The whistle blew.

The game started hard. Leo moved like a man on a mission—quick, ruthless, focused. His team followed his lead, but it wasn’t an easy fight.

Matteo Reyes—his opponent—was on him like a shadow. Rough, dirty, no-holds-barred. Every time they clashed, it looked like fists might fly.

They weren’t just rivals. This was deeper. Older. You could see it in the way Leo stared at him down after every shove.

The first half dragged on. Fast and tense. Matteo’s team scored first. The crowd erupted, but Leo didn’t flinch. Just wiped sweat off his brow and kept moving.

The second half was chaotic. Tackles. Fouls. Pure aggression on both sides.

Then it happened.

A fast break. One of Leo’s teammates sent a clean pass down the line.

Leo caught it in stride.

One defender. Gone.

Another came in hard—Leo spun, nearly slipped—but stayed up.

He powered forward. The goal in sight. The crowd held their breath.

Then—

BOOM.

Goal.

The stadium erupted. The floor vibrated under my feet. People screamed like someone had just proposed.

Leo didn’t even celebrate right away.

He turned.

Looked straight at me.

Lifted his hand. Pointed.

And then mouthed, clear as day—

“For you.”