Chapter 5 The Ex Returns, and So Do the Lies We Tell

Chapter 4: The Ex Returns, and So Do the Lies We Tell

The air inside the Northbridge University gym was thick with heat and the sound of sneakers squeaking against polished wood.

I sat on the edge of the bleachers, chin resting in my palm, pretending to scroll through my phone while very much not watching Ethan Carter run drills in a sleeveless black tank.

Correction-I was watching him.

Every step. Every turn. Every time his muscles flexed under the fluorescent lights.

God, I hated myself.

"You're staring."

I jumped.

Not because of the voice, but because I knew that voice.

Familiar. Warm. Infuriating.

Liam.

I turned slowly, heart stumbling as I faced the boy who ghosted me on Valentine's Eve like I was some punchline to a joke he never finished telling.

He was leaning against the rail, arms folded, smirk in place like no time had passed.

"You got a little glow-up, nerd girl," he said, his voice syrupy smooth. "Is it the fake boyfriend or the rage diet?"

My eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here?"

"Basketball scholarship transfer," he replied casually. "Northbridge needed a solid point guard. Coach begged."

I almost choked. Liam? Playing ball on Ethan's team?

This was hell.

"I didn't know you were so into the jock crowd now," he added, tilting his head toward the court. "Ethan Carter? Really?"

I bit the inside of my cheek. "Jealous?"

He leaned closer, eyes gleaming. "Should I be?"

Before I could answer-or unleash a nuclear response-shoes squeaked behind me. Then a shadow loomed.

"You lost, man?"

I turned.

Ethan.

Drenched in sweat. Brow furrowed. Jaw tight.

Possessive was too weak a word for the way he looked at Liam-like he was something toxic that needed to be removed from the gym.

Liam stood tall. "Ethan Carter. Captain. Poster boy. Surprise-I'm on the team now."

Ethan didn't blink. "Unsurprising. We always need a bench warmer."

Liam smirked. "Funny. I remember your girl looking a little cold that night I left her. Wonder who kept her warm after."

That did it.

Ethan moved fast-too fast-and suddenly he was between us, hand gripping Liam's jersey like he was seconds from throwing a punch.

"Say that again," Ethan growled. "See what happens."

Liam grinned like a devil. "Did I touch a nerve?"

"Ethan," I said, stepping forward, hand brushing his arm. "It's not worth it."

He didn't move. His muscles were coiled, tight. But he dropped Liam's shirt, jaw twitching as he turned back to me.

"You okay?"

I nodded, though I felt anything but.

"Let's go," he said. No questions. No room for argument.

He laced his fingers through mine-not gently, but like he needed to. Like claiming me was the only way to steady himself.

And maybe... I let him.

We left the gym in silence, walking until we hit the side bleachers overlooking the practice field.

The sky was orange with sunset. The air crisp.

He let go of my hand but didn't step away.

I could feel the tension rolling off him like heat.

"I didn't know he transferred," I said softly.

"I don't care if he transferred to hell," Ethan muttered. "He doesn't get to talk to you like that."

"He's my ex. You're not actually my boyfriend. Remember?"

His jaw clenched. "Fake or not, you're mine now. That's the deal."

My heart did that stupid flutter again. The one I hated. The one I couldn't control.

"This deal's making you a little too good at pretending," I said, trying to lighten the mood.

He looked at me then. Really looked.

Like he saw right through me. Like he hated how much this fake thing was starting to feel real.

"Maybe I suck at pretending," he said. "Maybe I don't want to."

My breath caught.

This wasn't part of the rules.

There was no clause in our deal about wanting.

"I should go," I said quickly, standing.

He didn't stop me. But as I turned to leave, his voice followed:

"If he comes near you again, I won't be pretending."

To be continued...