Page 5

Chapter 5

Emilie

I’m home after a meeting with Willow and now I'm thinking about how much my life has changed while working with her. She’s one of my best friends and one of the biggest celebrities in the world—I never would’ve dreamed of meeting her, let alone having her become one of my closest friends.

It also let some of my other friends show their true colors, ones I was already wary of. Making and keeping friends, as a woman, is so hard.

Living in New York was the first nail in the coffin. Michigan is technically home, and I don’t make it back often. My last trip there was telling in the worst ways, considering they kept asking me weirdly personal questions about Willow and acted like I owed them something.

Not a good sign.

It’s been a few days since the ridiculously successful When We Play event and now I’m thinking about Zack. If we can pull this off, I’m sure my old friends will resurface. That’s how they broke the radio silence the first time, when they saw pictures of me and Zack at a Cosmos event last year.

I stepped onto the red carpet, wearing the type of dress which fits in a way that makes you hold your head a little taller. My heart raced as someone recognized me: That was Willow’s assistant, Emilie! The press shouted, shifted their lenses, and took a few pictures. I had done the PR training and knew that when you came to an event like this, you stood on the carpet, let people get a photo or two, before you slinked into the background .

Zack Andersen stepped onto the carpet, and I felt the energy shift. I had met him briefly at a Cosmos game. He had always been kind, welcoming, and damn, he was hot. He didn’t just pose on the red carpet—he danced. He actually shimmied and shook his shoulders between poses; he was having the time of his life.

He was long and lean, the silhouette of his suit showing off his shoulders that were just broad enough for his frame. Zack Andersen was a smoke show. I knew I shouldn’t have objectified the man for the way he looked, but I was practically drooling. His dirty blonde hair was longer on the top—the man had great hair. Why was I thinking about how it’d feel to run my fingers through it?

When Zack saw me, he gave a little wave and immediately moved closer to where I was on the carpet. Before I knew what was happening, he had pulled me in, and the press was eating it up. He let his arm wrap low around my back, lightly touching the top of my hip. I was only 5’6’’ but with the heels, I was closer to his height.

The thing was, when he touched me, it felt right—the type of energy I expected from Zack. I smiled up at him and slowly shook my head, not needing to say a single thing with my mouth. His eyes told me he knew he was wild, but he loved it.

My heart beat like a sprinter pounding their feet into the track, and I forgot to breathe. When I remembered, it was like breathing in vanilla and bourbon. I wondered if he had a drink in the limo on the way here?

Those eyes, the type of blue you dream about, looked like they were on an expedition for my deepest, darkest secrets. With a look like that, he wouldn’t have needed to search for long—I’d have told him anything he wanted to know.

I smile while thinking about that night. Not because Zack swooped in and had some fun with me on a red carpet, but it’s almost like he sensed I needed to belong. I showed up with Willow and Tripp, who clearly had their own thing going on. It was nice to have a connection other than them.

Zack and I hung out a lot that evening. That’s when I learned he’s a fantastic dancer, and an even better time. I also learned I couldn’t fall in love with Zack Andersen. Not only would it most likely be one sided and a disaster, but I had some rules to follow.

I’m almost twenty-six and at this point, I’m only dating people I think I can see myself with long-term. Well, it’s a new thing I'm trying out. It’s not that I’m dying to get married or anything, but I don’t want to waste my time on someone who doesn’t view me as a potential forever destination. I’ve been burned by being the stop along the way too many times.

Not sure how this Zack thing fits in with it, but since it’s fake, I think it’s fine.

There’s a knock on the door, one I expected. Zack is coming over so we can make a schedule, a game plan—something to show we might be able to pull this off.

I open the door and Zack grins, holding two iced coffees—both my color, indicating the right amount of cream and sugar—and shaking them for effect.

“Hi, lover!” he says, too loudly, and kisses my cheek. I roll my eyes and let him come inside. “Got your coffee order from Willow.”

Zack’s hair is messy, darker than usual and a bit damp, like he took a shower at the training facility and came here right after. He’s wearing a black t-shirt and bright pink shorts—the man loves a pop of color—and it’s hard not to stare because of that short inseam.

“I can feel you staring at my shorts and this is a compromise. I got the color I wanted but the length you recommended.”

How could I forget? Zack and I were online shopping during the break between sets at Willow’s concert a few weeks back. The opener wrapped up just as Zack pleaded with Tripp to help him find the perfect pair of shorts, and when Tripp was uninterested, I was the next best thing.

Yes, I did help him pick out these shorts. And let me say, on behalf of anyone attracted to men, I did everyone a favor with the length.

“I like them. Also, we’ll never lose you in a crowd, so that’s a win.” I pick up one of the iced coffees, pop a straw in, and take a long drink.

“Some of the guys were giving me shit but I love this color, so they can get bent.” He grabs the other iced coffee and reaches out for a cheers.

Zack walks to the loveseat and falls in. Even though the living room has multiple places to sit, I typically end up cozy on the corduroy loveseat—the first piece of furniture I bought when I knew I’d be staying in the apartment long-term. “Alright, let’s plan our fake relationship.”

“Don’t make fun of a good plan. Listen, I know you thought you were doing a good thing, and you did, but if this blows up, my family will be even more insufferable than they already are.”

I can’t even put into words the things they would say. The microscope I’d be under.

Zack nods. “Tell me what to do, Captain.” He gives me a weird salute that if it came from anyone else, I’d tell them to get lost.

“I propose going out during the week, when our schedules allow it, hitting your restaurant list. Obviously a weekend when it works—really give the press the chance to get photos of us. Since it’s August, this should be doable until the season starts, yes?”

“Yeah. One hundred percent doable,” he smirks and it has me shaking my head. “We should probably be seen together after all the Cosmos games you come to. Shouldn’t be hard, since you’re typically there anyway,” Zack offers, shaking his iced coffee, the ice rattling in the cup.

“Easy. ”

A lightbulb turns on behind his eyes mid-drink, and Zack leans forward, trying to swallow the coffee as fast as possible. “AHH! You need to wear my jersey!” He sets the coffee down on the table in front of us so he can grab my hands. “Please do that, just like Willow does for Tripp.”

I can’t fight the stomach flip but I can reason with my brain: this isn’t real.

“Speaking of Willow and Tripp, what do we tell them?” I ask.

Zack rubs his fingers together in thought. “I think we should let them in on the whole plan. I can handle Tripp, but I’m a tiny bit scared of Willow. I know she’d castrate me if I ever did anything to you, so I’d prefer being upfront.” He puts his hands up like he’s surrendering and sits back into the loveseat.

“I agree. I couldn’t keep that from them. But that’s it, we don’t tell anyone else. That’s the first rule.” I point a playful finger at Zack, but he and I both know he’s the one with the loose lips.

“Got it.” He nods in understanding. “What about PDA? Can I touch you when we’re out? What’s the line?”

I really didn’t think about PDA. Zack is always touchy feely, and he’s never made me feel uncomfortable.

“We’ll know if it’s within reason.” I try not to blush as I catch his denim blue eyes. “As long as it’s in public.”

“Within reason?” He scrunches his forehead. “There’s lots of things we could do… within reason…” He moves his eyebrows up and down with a small smile, his eyes still locked on mine.

I give him a playful push. “Quit it. You know what I mean.” He throws his head back with his boyish grin, and it hits me.

I’m going to fake date Zack Andersen.