All Chapters of The Playboy's Fake Plus-Size Girlfriend: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

OPHELIA. "Miss Hart, would you like to tell me why you're thirty-seven minutes late to my class?" Professor Reynolds's voice makes me halt as I'm about to step into the lecture hall. My hand freezes around the strap of my backpack as I stand awkwardly, my chest already tightening because suddenly every pair of eyes in the room is on me. I swallow hard and force myself to take a step inside. "I'm... I'm sorry, Professor. I didn't mean to be late. I—there was just..." My words disappear when I realize I don't even have a believable excuse ready, because what exactly am I supposed to tell him? Sorry, Professor, I was up all night thinking about my fake boyfriend who got arrested because of me. I almost wince at how ridiculous the excuse sounds in my head, but it isn't entirely a lie. I spent half the night worrying about Killian, wondering what was happening at the police station, whether his father had managed to get him out, and whether Killian was going to get into even mor

KILLIAN. "Alright, boys, warm up before we get on the ice. Twenty jumping jacks, twenty squats, then thirty seconds of high knees. I want everyone moving properly, no slacking and no complaining. Ready? Let's go!" I stand a few feet behind the kids with my arms folded across my chest, watching them immediately start complaining and laughing as they spread across the concrete floor outside the rink. The youngest ones look like they're trying to figure out whether the coach is serious about the task. Honestly, I can't blame them for looking miserable. If I were their age and somebody told me I had to do twenty squats before I was even allowed to get onto the ice, I'd probably have the same look on my face. The difference is that I'm not here because I volunteered for this shit. My jaw tightens at the thought, but I push the irritation down and watch as the kids begin their jumping jacks, some of them doing them properly while others are already half-assed enough to make me wa

OPHELIA. I stare around Killian’s apartment the moment he types the code and opens the door for me. The place is bigger than I expected, and everything looks clean and neat. There are two large dark couches in the living room facing a big television, a simple dark coffee table sitting between them, and a few small decorations around the room. The walls are dark, the lights are warm, and the whole place has a quiet, comfortable feeling to it. My attention is drawn to a large glass aquarium sitting against the far wall, and I find myself walking a little closer to it. Two brightly colored fish glide lazily through the water, disappearing behind a tiny castle decoration before swimming back into view. There are a few small plants and other decorations inside the aquarium, making it look almost like a tiny underwater world. I stare at the fish for a few seconds, fascinated, before remembering that Killian is standing behind me. “You live here alone?” I ask, turning toward him.

KILLIAN.“So, Killian, what do you do besides playing hockey?” Mrs. Hart asks, beaming at me from across the table.She invited me to dinner when I dropped Ophelia off earlier, and I couldn't exactly refuse.I need to keep up the good-boyfriend image with her family, and I'm pretty sure I promised to have dinner with them the last time I was here anyway, so here I am, sitting at their dining table while Mrs. Hart fires one question after another at me.She's asked about hockey, my plans after graduation, my father, and about a dozen other things that aren't really any of her damn business. I'm answering because I have to, but I'm already fucking bored out of my mind.And then there's Ophelia's sister, who has been staring at me practically the entire evening like I'm some fucking piece of meat she wants to sink her teeth into, which is irritating as hell considering I'm sitting right beside her sister, who happens to be my girlfriend.Ophelia has a strange family, and the more time I

OPHELIA. Killian hasn't texted or called me back. Did I cross a line? Is he angry with me? Or worse, is he disgusted? Maybe the thought of being intimate with someone like me is something he can't even consider, even if our relationship is fake. The more I think about it, the more embarrassed I feel, because what was I even thinking when I asked him that? I should have kept my mouth shut, but now it's too late, and I can't take it back. Worse, I can't shake the uncomfortable feeling that I've somehow ruined whatever strange, comfortable friendship had started growing between us. The loud sound of people cheering suddenly pulls me out of my thoughts. I blink and look up, finally paying attention to my surroundings, and realize just how loud the arena has become. The crowd is shaking the place with their screams, chanting the same name over and over again as the announcer declares the huge, muscular man in the ring the winner. I still can't believe I actually agreed to co