Page 47
Story: Perfect Deke
I’m about to head out, feeling like there isn’t much left to say, when Jon stops me again.
“You and Kendra—is it serious?”
I close my eyes and depress the handle on his office door. “For me? Yeah. For her? I don’t know.”
Deep down, I know even that’s pushing it since Kendra only sees us as fake. Though, somehow, I can’t bring myself to admit that out loud, even if I know Jon wouldn’t say anything. Other than telling me I was an even bigger idiot.
He blows out a harsh breath. “I’d be a hypocrite to tell you not to chase the girl you want since I spent months going after your mom.” His voice softens. “You’re a good person with all the best intentions, Jack. Just make sure she’s on the same level, yeah?”
Looking over my shoulder, I hold eye contact. “I will.”
The second I step out of the office, Tyler is in front of me, his face still contorted with anger. “I meant what I said, Morgan. This isn’t over.”
I smile mockingly. “Maybe not for you, even though it should be. That’s exactly why I lied and said you regretted punching me.”
He looks on, still as confused as when I told Jon.
“Kendra has nothing to do with you anymore. She isn’t your concern, and shedefinitelyisn’t—and never has been—your possession. I told Coach you apologized because that’s exactly what you should do, right after you leave my girlfriend the fuck alone.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
KENDRA
“You know I’ll be seeing you in around two hours, right?” Jenna says as she picks up my call.
“I know, but I didn’t really want to tell you in the middle of a packed locker room,” I say, flicking on the coffee maker as I stifle a yawn and wait impatiently for my first—and much needed—caffeine hit of the day.
“Well, color me intrigued. Spill,” Jenna replies as I hear the sound of a door closing on her end.
“So, the gala this Saturday … I’m not going alone.”
“Please, on all that is holy, do not tell me that you’re going with Tyler. I don’t think my sanity can take it.”
I blow a laugh down the phone. “If you think I’m that stupid, then maybe you should reconsider your choice of center back.”
“Okay, good. You had me worr …” Jenna trails off, and a couple of beats pass before she speaks again. “Wait, if you aren’t going alone and it’s not with Tyler—oh crap, you’re going with Jack Morgan, aren’t you?!”
As the coffee maker finishes its prep, I pick up the jug and begin pouring myself a steaming cup. “Good guess.”
“I wasn’t aware there was going to be a fireworks display this year, but maybe I just didn’t get the memo until now,” Jenna replies. “Like, for real? You’re going with him for real, as a date?”
This is the part where I could say yes and allow my closest friend in this city to believe our ruse. But our relationship has always been based on truth, both on and off the pitch.
Pulling myself up onto one of the stools around the island, I press my lips together and decide to go for it. “Tyler asked me to go with him, and I turned him down. He’s been a grade-A asshole lately?—”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Jenna interjects, which has me nodding in agreement.
“So, yeah, after I met Tyler for a coffee, I get back to the apartment, and I’m upset but more just pissed off, to be honest. Everything with him has an agenda, and all I wanted to do was return his stuff to him and move on. Jack caught me in the midst of my mini meltdown and made the suggestion that we go together. That way, I’m not alone, and Tyler has to start backing off.”
“And since then, you’ve fucked in every room in the apartment, just to test out your compatibility and for practice.”
How Jack’s kitchen isn’t wearing my coffee I’ll never know. I forcibly swallow my mouthful and burst into a coughing fit.
“Oh, come on now, Kend. You can’t bullshit a bullshitter. This arrangement is convenient for the both of you—and in more ways than one.”
“Actually, no. You’re wrong. We already went on apracticedate, and we didn’t even kiss, so your theory is dead in the water.”
Silence falls between us, and I feel the mood shift from playful to something more serious. In a bid to keep my mind off the memory in the dressing room, the one where Jack explained exactly where my dress would be if we were for real, I push off the stool and head for the fridge.
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