Chapter 7

TESSA

I 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 sentimental. You have a goal, remember? To become a great reporter. And now? You’re dating a great player. Don’t you think your dream is falling into place?”

Her words stung, not because they were wrong—but because they were too neat. Too calculated.

I turned back to the field, clutching the hem of Leo’s jersey like a lifeline. My voice came out steadier than I expected.

“Well, thank you,” I said, “but I think I’m the one helping you here.”

Sloane’s brows lifted, like she hadn’t expected pushback.

“And now that I think of it…” I trailed off, my gaze locking on Leo. He was across the pitch, chest heaving, jaw tight, but when he glanced up at the VIP box, his eyes softened. Like he wasn’t playing for the cameras, for the fame, for the crowd. Like he was playing for me.

My throat tightened. “I would do anything for him.”

The words slipped out before I could stop them, heavy and real.

Sloane’s mouth opened, ready with some biting response, but she froze when she saw my expression. Because I wasn’t bluffing. Not with this.

She doesn’t know it—not yet—but Leo and I have come a long way. Childhood summers, shared secrets, promises whispered under fading sunsets. Then time, distance, and life ripped us apart.

And now… somehow, we’ve found our way back.

The crowd roared again as the referee’s whistle blew, dragging my attention back to the pitch. Leo was already moving, focused, unshakable.

But I knew. I knew that goal wasn’t just for show.

It was for me.

And for the first time since this whole charade began, I realized something terrifying.

Maybe this wasn’t fake anymore.

I wanted to walk steps toward Leo but Sloane's hand grabbed me. “Do you have a past with Leo?”

I smirked and said quietly, “Miss Sloane, please… let go of my hand.”

She didn’t move. Her fingers only tightened around my wrist.

Without another word, she dragged me out of the game hall. I caught Leo’s eyes as we left—he was watching us, confused, sweat running down his jaw. My chest clenched, but Sloane kept pulling.

The noise of the crowd faded behind us as we reached the hallway. Then—bang.

She shoved me against the wall.

“Tessa,” she hissed, her voice low and angry, “what are your plans? After I made you Leo’s girlfriend? Something no one from your background could ever dream of. And now you talk back to me?”

I stayed quiet, breathing hard.

Her hand shot out again, pressing me harder into the wall. “I’m talking to you.”

“Shit,” I muttered as my hand hit the wall. “Stop it. There are cameras here. You want to end up in a scandal?”

She scoffed, then her palm cracked across my cheek. The sound echoed. My face burned.

“This whole thing,” she said coldly, “is over.”

“What?” I whispered.

“This fake dating plan ends tomorrow. I’ll send you the papers in the morning. You’ll sign them, and that’s it.”

“Does Leo know about this?” I asked, my voice trembling.

Her lips curved into a sharp smile. “Of course he knows. I never move without his approval. We both agreed—you’re not the right fit. We’ll find someone else.”

I forced a smile even though my chest felt tight. “Someone else?”

Sloane’s smirk deepened. “Like… Sofia.”

My stomach dropped. Sofia—the hockey team’s cheerleader. The one with perfect hair, perfect money, perfect everything.

“I see,” I said slowly.

Right then, Sofia stepped out of the game hall. Her steps were soft, graceful, almost rehearsed. She glanced at us, her glossy lips curving in a polite smile, the kind that said I’ve already won.

“See?” Sloane said, crossing her arms. “You can’t compete with her. She’s born for the spotlight. And the reason she’s perfect for this role is because—”

But she didn’t finish.

Her words froze in her throat when Leo appeared at the hallway entrance. His hair was damp, his jersey half undone, his eyes dark and fixed on us.

The air went still.

Sloane straightened quickly, her mask sliding back into place. “Leo—”

But he didn’t look at her. His gaze stayed on me.

“Tessa,” he said, his voice low and rough, “what the hell is going on?”

Sloane opened her mouth, ready to lie, but I spoke first.

“She just ended our deal.”

Leo’s jaw tightened. He took a slow step toward us. “Did she?”

Sloane swallowed hard, trying to sound calm. “Leo, listen, it’s for your image. She’s—”

“Enough.” His voice cut through the air like a blade.

He turned to me, his eyes softer now. “You okay?”

I nodded, though my throat ached.

Then he turned back to Sloane. “We’ll talk later,” he said flatly.

And before she could argue, his hand found mine. Warm. Firm.

He pulled me gently toward the exit, past Sofia, who stood frozen, her perfect smile fading.