Chapter 12: The Next Morning

Gianna’s POV

The morning sun spread through my bedroom window, bright and hot. I woke up early and checked my phone. The school sports website was already covered in pictures from last night.

The biggest photo on the homepage was Ryker pointing his hockey stick right at me in the stands. The headline read: *“Barrett’s New Girl: Who is Gianna Cole?”*

My stomach twisted into a tight knot. The media was already talking. The fake contract was working perfectly for Ryker's image, but it meant my face was now out there for everyone to see. I had to be extra careful from now on.

I changed into a simple black sweater and jeans, then walked out into the kitchen.

Ryker was already there. He was sitting at the kitchen island, drinking black coffee. He wore a clean white t-shirt, and I noticed his right shoulder was moving a little easier today, though he still looked stiff. His laptop was open in front of him.

He looked up when I walked in. His gray eyes were cool and professional again, just like the contract demanded.

"The athletic board called me ten minutes ago," Ryker said, turning his laptop toward me. "The picture from last night cleared my name from the locker room fight video. The scouts are happy. The board wants us to make our first official appearance together today."

"Where?" I asked, pouring myself a glass of water.

"The university alumni brunch," Ryker said, closing his laptop with a click. "It's a big outdoor lunch with the school donors and the press. We need to go there, sit together, and show everyone that we are a couple. If we do this right, the board will completely drop my probation."

"Fine," I said, keeping my voice businesslike. "We go, we smile for the cameras, and we leave. No extra drama."

"Agreed," Ryker said, standing up from his stool. He walked over to the counter, stopping a few feet away from me. He looked down at me, his face serious. "But listen to me, Cole. The student reporters at this lunch are going to ask a lot of personal questions. They will want to know how we met. We need to stick to the fake story we wrote down."

"I know the story by heart, Barrett," I told him, looking straight into his eyes. "We met at the campus library three weeks ago. It was quiet, we talked, and we kept it private until last night. It's simple and clean."

"Good," Ryker murmured. "Change into something nice. The car leaves in one hour."

*****

An hour later, we arrived at the university's grand courtyard. The grass was perfectly green, and long tables covered in white cloths were set up everywhere. The air smelled like expensive food and fresh flowers. There were dozens of wealthy people, coaches, and student reporters walking around with cameras.

The second Ryker’s black ranger over pulled up, three photographers turned around and started flashing their cameras at us.

Ryker got out, walked around to my side, and opened the door for me. As I stepped out onto the pavement, he extended his left arm toward me.

"Time to play the part, sweetheart," he murmured under his breath, his voice smooth and calm.

I didn't hesitate. I slid my hand over his forearm, holding onto his big arm as we walked together into the crowded courtyard, ready to face the cameras.