Writing the Rules: A Fake Dating Standalone by Mariah Dietz (classic english novels .TXT) đź“•
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- Author: Mariah Dietz
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“And in exchange?”
“You invite me out. Introduce me to some people so that I’m more than just Raegan’s best friend, or Lincoln’s girlfriend’s friend, or the chick with red hair.”
“No one looks at you like that.”
“Yeah, they do. And it’s okay. I like those roles most of the time, but sometimes I just feel…” Left behind. The words are there, and yet the longer they rest on my tongue, the more vulnerable I feel. “I want to break out of my shell a little. Prepare myself for dating and having fun.”
“My coaches are still on the fence with me, and it’s way too late in the season for them to be having doubts.”
I give him double pistols. “And this is why we should do this.”
He chuckles softly and pushes both of my hands down with one of his. “Tell me it wasn’t Rae who taught you to do that.”
I point my index fingers at him again. “I came prepared for tonight. You know what they say, never show up to a gunfight with a knife.”
His laughter grows. “It won’t matter what I do if you keep pulling those out.”
“These are proof that I have game.”
Pax belts out a laugh. “You’ve definitely spent too much time with the wrong Lawson. Don’t worry, these side effects should be reversible with time.”
“You can’t reverse awesome.”
“Let’s hope you’re awesomely good with marketing because it’s going to take a miracle to help me pass this class.”
“Challenge accepted.”
“We should figure out how this is going to work. Establish some ground rules to ensure we’re both getting what we want out of this … arrangement.”
I nod. “You’re speaking my language. I can draft something up and email it to you.”
He blinks once and then twice, and then shakes his head. “I know you’d do it from a good place, but I’m a verbal learner. I need to be able to ask questions and talk through this. We have tomorrow’s game, and after it is a bonfire. I could really use you attending both.” A grin claims his features. “We’ll fly blind, and then we can hammer out the rules one day this week when you’re free.”
His schedule is a thousand times more complicated than mine, but it’s a reminder of Paxton’s manners. I nod. “Okay.”
His smile shifts from relief to confidence in a split second. “Also, my jersey number is thirty-one.” He winks, and my smile is automatic, and so is the twist in my stomach that I write off and attribute solely to nerves.
Dear Diary,
Tonight was a little like getting caught in a hail storm, it sucked and was a little painful, but it didn’t last long. We essentially botched our first take of fake dating. In fact, it was a little too close to what college parties have been like—I felt underdressed, I saw a couple of cute boys, and one tried to kiss me without permission or warning—he probably thought the kiss sucked too. I couldn’t kiss him back, so it was probably like kissing a rock or the back of one's hand. Memorable definitely won’t be the way our kiss is remembered. But there was something almost refreshing about our conversation post kiss. Pax has never been the asshole alpha male like some guys try to be, but sometimes he seems almost bullet-proof, and tonight when Candace ripped into him and he didn’t respond by trying to break her down, I saw not only his vulnerability but also a reminder that he cares and this fact deserves to be remembered one day. Paxton Lawson cares. Deeply. He cares about his family, his friends, his team, his future, the causes being fought by his sisters—he cares about them, and that gives me an assurance that while this farce might not turn me into Miss Popularity, I trust him to not let me get burned by our agreement.
11
Paxton
“I heard a rumor,” Arlo says as I set my bag down. It’s game day against Cal State, and my nerves are working double overtime. With the scouts here and Cal’s QB, Pike, getting a lot of attention, I’m going to need to have one hell of a game in order to make sure the scouts notice and remember me. It feels like a kick in the ass, considering I’d been gaining the attention I’d needed to guarantee me a draft pick—even if it wasn’t first or second round, I had a firm foot in the door after last season. But drama’s been tied to my name between my dad’s affair and the rumor site so that every aspect of my life has been put under a microscope. Things scouts wouldn’t have considered or cared about, like who I dated and what classes I was struggling to pass, would have been largely looked over.
“I don’t want to hear any rumors,” I tell him as I shake my head. “Not unless the rumors have something to do with Pike being injured.”
“Close…”
My attention snaps to him as hope and opportunity light a match in my stomach.
“I heard you made out with Poppy last night.”
Hearing someone else say it sounds almost as shocking as learning this news for the first time. I shake my head to juggle through my thoughts of Pike and the game against Cal State as I think about last night and the party. It was a dumb idea, one that turned progressively dumber and then somehow found its way to a precipice between crazy, stupid, and brilliant.
“I thought you said this had to do with Pike?”
“When? How? I mean…” Arlo shakes his head. “Is Rae freaking out?” He tips his head back and laughs maniacally. “She’s totally freaking out. I know it.” He shakes his head a couple of times, his laughter slowing, but his smile still there. “When in the hell did this happen?”
I shrug.
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