Page 13 of Love is Fake (Love is Everything #1)

“It’s quiet here,” Lennox shrugs. “I’m not really into the whole bright lights, big city thing and fans can get a little crazy when they recognize me,” he says, seeming almost a little embarrassed at the admission, as if being a super hockey star and pin-up aren’t things he likes to admit to.

“I grew up in a small town, so I guess I’m not all that comfortable in crowds. ”

“Yeah, I know.” I freeze as soon as the words are out of my mouth. Lennox has a similar reaction, one I possibly wouldn’t pick up on if my hands weren’t on his body right now.

“ You know ?” he says and there’s no getting around the question. A conversation shift isn’t going to fly this time.

Taking a step back from the table, I take a deep breath and look into his face, his brow now furrowed in suspicion.

“Yeah, I know,” I sigh. “Not because I’m a crazy ‘I watch you while you sleep’ stalker, but because we grew up in the same town.”

And there goes the promise I’d made to myself less than 24 hours ago, not to mention our connection. But it was either that or let him think I’m about to go full single white female on him.

“Okay…” When I look up at Lennox, he’s staring at me as if I’m some kind of code he’s trying to break, a safe he’s trying to crack. If he ever found his way inside, I think he’d be sorely disappointed.

I shake my head, partly because it gives me a reprieve from his enquiring eyes.

I’ve never been comfortable with people looking at me, especially when ‘people’ in this instance is Lennox Gray.

“You wouldn’t remember me,” I tell him, thinking that’ll bring the conversation to somewhat of a pause.

Of course, I’m wrong. Instead, it leads to more questions that I have to weave my way around avoiding.

“We’ve met?” Lennox frowns at me, tilting his head like he’s trying to place me. “Because I would definitely remember that.” He doesn’t bother to hide the frank appreciation in his eyes and I don’t need a mirror to know my cheeks have turned pink.

I nod, averting my eyes as I look back down at the hands I’m wringing together nervously, forcing myself to stop and calm down.

“St Patrick’s,” I explain.

Lennox blinks his dark brown eyes at me. He couldn’t look more surprised if I’d told him I was raised by wolves. “High school?”

“I looked different back then.” And isn’t that the understatement of the century.

So much so that I almost wince at the memory of those days.

They were definitely not my finest. There is a reason I never talk about my high school days and why I have no intention of ever going to a reunion.

I’ve tried to put those times firmly in my rear-view mirror.

And I was doing just fine with that until Lennox came along.

I wave a hand in front of my face. “Glasses, braces…more or less permanently dressed in dungarees stained with motor oil…,” I paint a picture for him, not sure if it’s worse if he remembers me or if he’s none the wiser.

Lennox squints hard like he’s trying to place me, perhaps see me with the red school lockers behind me. But no matter how many times he furrows his brows, it’s blatantly obvious he has absolutely no idea who I am.

I swallow down my ridiculous sense of somehow being let down. It doesn’t even make sense. Not being remembered is a win in my book, after all.

Still, Lennox looks a little stressed, so I decide to throw him a bone and save him from the discomfort of having to admit just how forgettable I was, or am, I guess.

“Don’t worry about it.” I wave away his concern at seeming rude.

“You were a Senior when I was just a Sophomore. We didn’t exactly move in the same circles.

” In fact, we might as well have been on different planets for all the interaction we had.

Save for that one time when he apologized for his awful girlfriend.

It’s a little galling when I consider that a moment that meant everything to me was so insignificant for him.

Lennox is silent for a while before he nods, as if it makes sense he wouldn’t remember me, despite the fact we didn’t go to a big high school.

I don’t add that we shared a biology class because I skipped ahead on the sciences.

We may have been at the same school, but between his star-athlete status and my special power of social invisibility we may as well have been in separate countries for all the cross-over we had.

I saw him every day for an entire year, he never saw me at all.

I shake my head to get a damn grip and remind myself I’m here to do a job and that’s it.

“Dizzy?”

I freeze at Lennox’s outburst, coupled with the snap of his fingers like he’s just solved a complex math equation. It’s the nickname his bitchy girlfriend Carly gave me way back when because I was so goddamned clumsy and somehow – much to my chagrin – it stuck.

Dizzy Izzy.

It might have been cute if a friend called me that, but it was ever only used by bullies like Carly.

I wrinkle my nose like the moniker is a bad smell.

“I haven’t heard that name since high school.

” And yet it has the power to send me back to the place that was my own personal version of hell for way too many years.

“I hated it then and turns out I still hate it now! Your ex had a real way with words,” I joke feebly.

“Sorry,” Lennox winces in acknowledgement and I wonder if – in retrospect – he can see what a supreme piece of work Carly really was.

I shrug as if it’s no big deal. “You don’t have to apologize, you weren’t the one who started it.”

“No, but I didn’t stop it either. I should have.” He shakes his head and I’m so surprised at the genuine frustration I hear in his voice that I allow myself the luxury of looking at him a little more closely.

“It was a long time ago.” I wave away his annoyance. “It’s all water under the bridge,” I assure him, although I’m not sure it is.

It still hurts to think about those days, but I never put Lennox into that group of kids who made my life hell. He was never mean to me. In fact, his only cruelty was indifference and I can’t really say I blame him for that. High school boys sort of just flow with the stream.

“Still…” Lennox looks at me for a long time and I wonder if he’s seeing the girl I used to be or if he’s lost in his own high school memories.

Either way, it’s not important. We’re not here to talk about old times.

“We’re going to do some flexibility tests now, alright?” I ask him, parking our previous conversation way in the back.

“You’re the boss,” Lennox teases, but without any of the harshness I’ve become used to from him.

“Damn straight,” I joke back as I start lifting his good leg to test his hamstring length.

I don’t think about the heat of his skin under my hands or the zing of awareness I feel every time I touch him.

I’ve never had a crush on a patient, so whatever this is, I need to kick it to the curb and I need to do it fast.

In my head, I start reciting all the bones in the body from the toes upwards until I manage to push those flustering feelings into the background.

Denial, denial, denial. Works like a charm every time.

“Did you know in high school you wanted to be a PT?” Lennox asks, making it hard for me to pretend he’s someone else.

Still, I’m grateful for the conversation and for him making an effort even though I can’t imagine he’s actually interested in my answer.

“I thought I wanted to be a doctor,” I respond truthfully.

“But I shadowed a surgeon for a while over the summer before my senior year and I realized it wasn’t for me.

There are a lot of good doctors, don’t get me wrong, but they didn’t have the time to really get to know their patients.

They dealt with whatever the issue was and moved on to the next thing.

It was like they weren’t treating people, just the problem.

I wanted to spend more time with my patients, get to know them, help them in their day to day lives, not just for the hours I was operating on them. ”

I click my jaw shut, abruptly, realizing I’ve said more than I meant to.

“Sorry, you were probably hoping for more of a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer,” I smile sardonically. “I have a tendency to ramble when I’m nervous.”

“Don’t apologize,” Lennox says, “I asked the question because I wanted to hear the answer.”

Thankfully he doesn’t mention me being nervous around him, although I have a feeling he’s stored that tidbit away for another day.

In the short time I’ve spent with him, Lennox has given me the impression that he pays attention and that not a lot gets past him.

He’s not the dumb jock I labelled him as, which is unfortunate because that would make him a whole lot less attractive.

“What about you? Sports were always the plan I guess?” He was a star athlete back in school. Enough to have the football and hockey team fighting over him.

“They were a plan, but they weren’t mine,” Lennox says a little testily.

I keep my mouth shut, hoping he’ll say more, but not exactly asking him to.

“It was all down to Gray Senior – my…father,” his mouth twists a little and I wonder what kind of a relationship they have that he calls his dad by his last name. Once again, I keep my mouth shut, hoping he’ll say more and I can’t say that I’m not a little surprised when he does.

Lennox shrugs, as much as he can given the position I have him in.

“He wanted me to play college football,” he says.

“There were college scouts in and out of my house since I was in junior high. But I wanted to travel.” He shakes his head, looking a little regretful as he dances with the memory of a time far away.

“I dunno, I guess, more than anything, I just wanted to get the hell out of town. See the world outside, you know. I figured there’d be time after that to decide what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. ”

“So what happened?”

“What happened?” Lennox looks up to the ceiling, like he doesn’t really know the answer to that question. “A lot happened, I guess. Things change and you roll with it or you get left behind.”

I try not to be disappointed at his evasion, he doesn’t owe me anything and I have no right to expect him to pour his heart out to me.

“You go home much?” I ask. It’s a question that doesn’t take us out of the conversation completely, but it’s the best I can do to keep him talking without prying too much.

Dare I say, I might be enjoying the amicable chat we’ve settled into.

It’s worlds better than us sniping at each other, which was our default until not too long ago.

“Not if I can help it,” Lennox snorts quietly before looking a little dismayed he was so honest in his response. Like he’s shown more of himself than he planned.

I smooth out my frown before he sees it.

Even back in high school, I always thought Lennox lived some kind of a charmed life.

A wealthy family, one of the most recognizable in the state, the big house, the fancy car, high-end clothes.

From the outside it looked like he was living the dream, but his words are giving me a peek behind the curtain and I’m starting to wonder if I wasn’t mistaken.

“Me neither.” I skip over his reaction as if I didn’t notice it. “My dad keeps on trying to get me to head down, but with work it’s hard. And after New York, small town ‘Bama feels a little…”

“Claustrophobic.” Lennox finishes my sentence with a sigh and I look over at him, surprised he found the word I was thinking.

“Yeah,” I nod, in agreement, our eyes meeting and holding.

This time, as our gazes stay fixed on each other, I see understanding.

I see that he knows exactly what I’m talking about.

I’m not exactly sure what Lennox sees as he looks back at me.

What I do know, however, is that we lock eyes for a few seconds too long.

Looking down, I bring the focus right back where it should have been this entire time.

“Let’s start off in the pool,” I suggest, although if I’m hoping for a distraction, seeing Lennox half-naked is probably the worst idea I’ve ever had.

“Sounds like a good idea. You bring your bikini?” Lennox’s eyes drift over my body as if he has x-ray vision, like he’s undressing me with his eyes.

“ I’m not going to be swimming,” I tell him, sounding prissy as a Catholic school-teacher.

“Shame,” Lennox says cryptically, before hopping off the bed.

“Crutches!” I shriek at him sounding like a damn first wife.

I’m knocked for six when he actually listens to me and grabs them from the corner of the room before making his way out.

“See,” he smiles over his shoulder, “sometimes I do what I’m told.”

I watch him leave, thinking that apparently, I don’t. Kiara told me to keep my distance from Lennox and, after barely spending a morning together, I already know it’s going to be a hell of a lot easier said than done.