Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 29645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
“You’re staring,” she says without looking up.
“You’re trespassing.”
“Semantics.”
She straightens and faces me. “Sit.”
“I’m not a dog.”
“Sit, Levi.”
I don’t know why I obey. She studies me from across the room.
“We need natural touch,” she says. “Casual proximity.”
“You’ve had plenty of that this week.”
“In public. This is private.”
“That’s against the rules.”
She steps closer. “We’re establishing credibility. My car in your driveway accomplishes that.”
“You sure you just don’t want to spend time with me?” I smirk.
Her hand comes to rest lightly on my chest. Over my heart. The contact is simple. Devastating.
“You’re so…tightly wound,” she says softly.
“You’re in my house.”
“You invited me in.”
“I did not.”
“You didn’t say no.”
I grip her wrist gently but firmly. “Careful.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re underestimating what this does to me.”
Her eyes flicker. “Does what?”
“You standing here like you belong.”
She goes still.
For a second, neither of us breathes.
She swallows. “It’s fake.”
I step closer. “Stop saying that.”
Her back brushes the edge of the couch.
“And if it stops being fake?” she whispers.
My control fractures. I plant my hands on either side of her, bracing against the couch.
She tilts her face up. Challenging. “Levi.”
“Sadie.”
“You’re crowding me.”
“You’re still here.”
Her fingers curl into my shirt again. That small tell. That familiar claim.
“You can’t scare me off,” she says softly.
“I’m not trying to scare you.”
“What are you trying to do?”
I lean closer, not touching her lips, not quite. “Remind you what you walked away from.”
Her breath catches hard. “That’s not fair.”
“Neither was leaving.”
The words land heavier than I intend.
Her eyes flash. “You think that was easy?”
“I think you chose the world over me.”
“I chose myself.”
“You could’ve had both.”
She pushes at my chest, but not hard enough to move me. “You don’t get to rewrite history.”
“You don’t get to pretend it didn’t break me.”
Silence slams down between us. Our breaths mix. Heat builds. She looks at my mouth. I see it.
“You’re going to kiss me,” she whispers.
“Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because if I start, I don’t stop.”
Her pulse races under my thumb. “You always were dramatic.”
“And you always underestimated me.”
She lifts her chin. “Then show me.”
The invitation is reckless. I drop my forehead to hers instead. Close enough to feel her. Not enough to cross the line.
“You wanted rules,” I say quietly. “Private lines not crossed.”
Her fingers slide up my chest. “That rule was your idea.”
“You agreed.”
She smiles faintly. “You’re the one losing control.”
I pull back slightly, just enough to look at her fully. “You have no idea how much.”
She goes quiet. That’s the first crack in her composure. The first sign she feels it too. I step back slowly. She exhales like she’s been holding air for minutes.
“Terms and conditions,” I say evenly. “If we do this, you don’t walk away again.”
Her throat tightens. “This is fake dating.”
“Not for me.”
She freezes. The words hang there. Not a confession. But close.
“You’re changing the rules,” she says softly.
“No,” I reply. “I’m clarifying them.”
She studies me for a long moment. Then she straightens her sweater, regains that sharp edge she hides behind.
“Fine,” she says lightly. “We’ll revisit this clause later.”
I step toward the door.
“Where are you going?” she asks.
“To get air.”
She laughs softly. “You’re running.”
I look back at her.
“You wanted believable.”
“I do.”
“Then understand this, Hotshot.” My voice drops low. “This may have started as a game.” Her breath hitches. “But I don’t play to lose.”
For the first time since she walked back into my life, I see uncertainty flicker across her face.
Not fear. Not regret. Something deeper.
I open the door and step out into the cold mountain night.
Because if I stay in that room one more second—the fake part is going to burn away completely.
And what’s left?
That won’t be practice.
That will be war.
Chapter 4
Sadie
If this is what fake dating feels like, I’m not sure my heart is built for it.
The Devil’s Peak Miners stadium smells like hot dogs, sunscreen, and small-town chaos. The bleachers are packed. Kids in oversized jerseys run the aisles. Someone’s cowbell keeps clanging off-beat behind us.
And Levi Kane is sitting way too close to me.
His thigh presses against mine like it’s an accident but I don’t think it is.
“Relax,” I murmur under my breath as I toss a piece of popcorn into my mouth. “You look like you’re guarding classified information.”
“I am,” he replies calmly. “You.”
I nearly choke.
We’re halfway down the third-base line, perfectly visible to half the town. The church ladies are seated two rows up, whispering and watching like wildlife documentarians tracking rare mating patterns.
I lean into him deliberately, resting my elbow on his shoulder. “We need to sell it better.”
He glances down at me. “Better how?”
“Laugh more,” I whisper. “Touch me more.”
His brow lifts slightly. “Careful what you request.”
“You’re the one who said believable.”
He reaches into the popcorn bucket, his arm brushing across my chest in the process. The contact is brief but heat still skitters down my spine.
“You’re flushed,” he says quietly.
“It’s ninety degrees.”
“It’s seventy-three.”
I shoot him a look. He just watches me.