The Fake Zone: A Fake Dating Sports Romance (Oleander Springs Series Book 3)
The Fake Zone: Chapter 42

“Faster,” Cole says, slapping my hand away.

“If I go faster, you’ll tell me my form is bad.” It’s been two and a half weeks since Julian chased me. I haven’t seen or heard a thing from him, but I haven’t allowed his absence to lull me into believing this mess is over. Rather, I’ve focused my efforts even more on working out and time at the gym, practicing with precision and focus that Mackey, Cole, Abe, and even Dustin demand from me.

They’re quick to tell me when I’m too slow or my form’s wrong—which is still a lot, much to my displeasure.

“That’s why you have to keep working. Keep practicing.”

Mackey lingers at the side of the ring, offering instruction and the occasional jab at Cole when he doesn’t block me well enough or on the rare occasions when I exceed their expectations and land a hit. Those few instances, Cole smiles so wide and proudly, I swear something is wrong with him.

“Don’t worry about making a direct hit to his nose,” Mackey says, climbing into the ring. “If you get a little cheek or upper lip; it will still burn.”

The bells on the door ring, and we all turn to see Grey. My heart races as it does every time I see him.

Cole takes my moment of distraction and tackles me.

“Why didn’t you tell me about your mom?” Palmer asks as I pick out items for our belated Galentine’s celebration.

The flu spread to Hadley and then Hannah, delaying the celebration. I don’t mind, though. March is still a great time to celebrate friendship.

I pause and turn to Palmer.

He shakes his head. “I didn’t realize you knew your mom. Since you never talk about her, I assumed she was never in the picture.”

My heart squeezes with emotions I can’t place topped by a hefty layer of sorrow and guilt. Palmer’s mom committed suicide, a tragedy he rarely discusses. “Because you cared deeply about your mom and miss her.” I shake my head. “And I don’t have those emotions about my mom.”

The doubt in his expression awakens my defenses. “Losing a parent, regardless of the reason, leaves a mark.”

I turn my attention to the Tart Apple red nail polish, and I’d Rather be on Vacation teal in my hand, my thoughts static as I try to recall what I’m doing rather than the emotional scars from my childhood. I pick out four more colors before turning to Palmer, one of the kindest, funniest, and most loyal people I’ve ever met. “If you ever want to talk about your mom, I’m here for you.”

He nods. “I know.”

“Is it hard for you to trust people?”

Palmer folds his arms over my shopping cart. “No, but caring about people sometimes fucks with my head.”

Palmer has casually dated a string of cleat chasers the group knows are placeholders. Like Grey’s aversion to dating, I assumed it was because he was too busy with football, but doubt and his solemn eyes blow that theory to pieces.

Maybe Jon is right, and we’re all trying to navigate through life, feeling like everyone else has the secret sauce when none of us really do.

“Me too,” I admit. “But I also suck at trusting people and a short list of other things you all keep crossing off.”

He chuckles and wraps an arm around my shoulders. “It’s about damn time.” He checks his phone. “Speaking of time, we need to wrap this up. It’s time to hit the gym.”

Today is Palmer’s first day of working out at Mackey’s, and while I initially suspected it was because he didn’t trust Abe and the others to watch out for me, I realize when we arrive that Palmer’s doing his part in bridging these two sides of Grey’s life, and now mine.

Three hours later, I’m showered and rushing with Evelyn to the Italian restaurant Hadley made a reservation at to celebrate Galentine’s.

A year ago, I didn’t have any female friends. A few acquaintances, yes, but no one I’d call after a particularly rough day or even a great one. I thought I was okay with my friend group consisting of Griffin and Hudson, two people I’m privileged to rely on and trust, unlike so many who have promised to do so. But, when Evelyn moved back last May, she filled a void I didn’t know existed. She sparked my addiction to romance novels, listened to every whim, thought, and fear like it was her own, and became a safe space. Now, as the hostess takes me to the table filled with our book club, five women gathered to celebrate our budding friendship, I can’t help but hope this becomes a tradition for years to come.

The colorful bags in my arms aren’t the only gifts.

Katie bought everyone a paperback of the next book we’re discussing. Hadley passes out fuzzy socks adorned with hearts and lips along with bath bombs. Evelyn gifts us each an adult coloring book with positive women affirmations, and Brielle hands each of us a gorgeous bouquet of flowers. Hannah’s gift is a box filled with gummy bears, herbal teas, and a Golden Girls sticker that has us all laughing before I pass out the presents I brought, which contain a bookmark, various beauty products, and a journal filled with prompts in case others struggle like me to get out their thoughts.

“We’re celebrating us tonight,” Hadley says, raising her glass. “I was dreading this year.” She looks at Hannah and then Katie before turning to the rest of us. “I didn’t think I had any friends, and now I’m sitting with five of the funniest, kindest, most accepting, and wonderful women I’ve had the pleasure of meeting. I’m so damn proud to call you all my friends.”

We stuff ourselves on pasta and garlic bread and laugh over romance novels and plans for this spring—plans that aren’t exclusive to book club.

We’re stuffed and giddy from our evening of girl time as we leave the restaurant, arms filled with gifts. The energy and happiness that consumes me is even better than the warm zeppoles we dipped into rich chocolate for dessert. That strange space between acquaintances and friendship is a distant memory as we say goodbye and confirm plans to meet at Hadley, Hannah, and Katie’s next week for fondu and facials.

“Oh my God, is that snow?” Evelyn asks as we step outside. “In March!” she exclaims.

I grin, that magical feeling of wonder and beauty shocking me like it does every time I see the snow.

I give a final wave to the others as they head for their cars, and link my arm through Evelyn’s, leading her to where I parked.

“I’ve never seen snow,” Evelyn says. “Will we get enough for it to actually cover the ground?” She reaches out, palm open, staring at the snowflakes that melt against her skin. She smiles, wonder and amazement bright in her eyes. It reminds me of Mal, who loved the snow so much her passion became addictive and made me love it, too.

“Maybe? We’ll see. But I bet we get a snow day.” Oleander Springs is allergic to snow. “I’m amazed the restaurant didn’t kick us out.” I glance back at the restaurant and around the parking lot a final time as I unlock my car. Despite not hearing from Julian and scanning my belongings for Find-it Tags—twice—my paranoia is still strong. But as I look around, the only thing I see is snow and people’s mixed reactions—hating or loving the frozen water crystals.

“Check Camden’s website. I bet they already announced classes are canceled for tomorrow,” I tell her as we slip into my car. The idea of being locked up with Grey all day feels like the best gift imaginable. We haven’t taken a day off since Valentine’s. “I need to call Grey and let him know we’re leaving. Did you text Hudson?”

“I will right now. Do you think it’s snowing at the dorm?”

I nod while calling Grey. As my car starts, it directs the call to speakerphone, and I usher a quick apology to Evelyn.

He answers on the second ring. “Hey. I’m just getting ready to leave Mackey’s. Are you back at the dorm? Is it snowing there?” His voice a warm caress through the speaker.

“It just started. It’s coming down fast.”

“You know what this means?” he asks.

“You’re on speakerphone,” I remind him.

Evelyn giggles.

Grey clears his throat. “I was going to say, you might get a second day off.”

“But not a day off of cardio, right?” My smile is so big, I’m sure he can hear it in my voice.

“Definitely not,” he says.

I slow to a stop at the red light, mesmerized by the snow falling on my windshield. “We’ll probably beat you back to the dorm. Traffic’s pretty light, so we—”

The impact of something hitting us barely registers before I slam against the airbag. Metal and screams fill my ears. It takes me a few seconds to realize the screams are mine.

The airbag begins to deflate nearly instantly, and I shove it away, trying to look at Evelyn.

“Evelyn!” I yell, reaching for her. “Are you okay?” I grab her shoulder. The movement has pain firing off in my collarbone, but I barely notice it as Evelyn turns to face me, eyes stretched with terror. “Are you okay?”

“Mila?” Grey’s voice repeats loud and demanding through the speakers of my car. “What happened?”

Evelyn’s face pales. “Go! Drive!” She shoves at the wilting airbag in front of her. “Mila, go!”

I look over my shoulder and see a white truck reversing, and like that day he approached Evelyn at the park, I know it’s Julian Holloway without seeing him.

I run the red light, my tires screeching, and my dash flashing about my rear tire being low.

“Call the police,” I tell Evelyn, pressing the gas pedal to the floorboard. Behind us, the truck accelerates, seemingly undeterred by the crash, unlike my car.

“Mila!” Grey barks my name.

“Shit,” Evelyn gasps as the truck connects with my bumper, causing the car to swerve. “Hello. I have an emergency. Someone just ran into us with their car and he’s chasing us!” The edge of hysteria has her voice louder and higher than usual.

“Mila!” Grey barks. “What’s going on?”

“Julian just crashed into us with his truck. Evelyn’s calling the cops, and I’m about to get on the highway and head north.”

“No. Come to Highgrove.”

I shake my head. “Grey—”

“Head south, Mila. You can lead him right to the police station. We’ll meet you there.”

“No. He’s behind us. He’s following us,” Evelyn says to the police dispatcher. “We’ve been trying to report him, and no one has done anything and now he just rammed into us. Twice!” She’s spiraling, anger thankfully in the driver’s seat rather than fear, or maybe her amygdala is the guard dog unlike my opossum.

“I got you. I found you. We’re coming,” Grey says. We downloaded apps to follow each other after the first Julian incident, something I am eternally grateful for as Grey tells me which exit to take.

I grip the steering wheel tighter, my gaze shifting to the rearview mirror as I manage to get a car between Julian and us. The tire gauge on my dash turns red, the pressure in the teens. The road is turning a soft shade of gray from the thin layer of snow that continues falling, harder now, creating a kaleidoscope appearance.

“Something’s wrong with my tire,” I tell him, fear an echo in my chest. “I’m losing air. Fast. He hit the back. I don’t know if the wheel is bent, or broken, or…” There’s nothing between Oleander Springs and Highgrove but sleepy neighborhoods, woods, and farm fields.

“Cole, grab Abe and Mackey and whatever weapons Mackey keeps in his office.”

“They have weapons?” Evelyn asks, eyes wide with shock as she looks up from her phone where she’s texting. I know it’s Hudson without asking.

Another time, the same words might catch me up, but right now, I have two things to focus on, how to evade Julian and keeping Evelyn safe. “What did the police say?” I ask her.

“The dispatcher put me on hold,” she says.

“You’re on hold?” I cry.

“You’re twenty-five miles out.” Grey swears.

The dark road I’ve traveled daily seems unfamiliar, the details escaping me as I glance up and see Julian’s white truck, which has stalked too many of my nightmares, speeding up.

“Just keep coming this way. Your car will be harder to maneuver with a flat tire. Make sure you have both hands on the steering wheel. It will want to pull.”

I could already tell the difference. “Hey, Grey.” Tears itch at my eyes.

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“I love you.”

“Mila, no. Not like this.”

I sputter as a tear skates down my cheek, pressing the car to go faster still. “But I do, and I should have told you sooner. I should have kissed you two years ago because I wanted to kiss you the first time I saw you.”

“Go. Go!” Grey yells, and I hear the anger and regret in his voice. “It’s going to be fine. You’re going to be fine.”

Evelyn’s breaths are becoming wheezes, too high and pitchy.

I turn to her. “Do you have your inhalers?”

She nods with tight jerky moments.

“I need you to take your emergency inhaler.”

She gives another tight nod and reaches for her purse, withdrawing her inhaler with a trembling hand.

“You’re getting close to fields,” Grey says. “How’s your tire pressure?”

“It says eleven.”

“Shit.” In the background, I hear Cole say something that makes Grey swear again, his tone vicious. “Mila, you’re not going to make it. The tire will blow out if you go much farther. You’ll be safer near a forest or a neighborhood, somewhere you can hide until we get there. You don’t want to be stuck out in the goddamn crop fields. The forest you’re passing is only another mile. It might be your safest chance.”

I glance in my mirror, spotting Julian barreling toward us.

“How are you feeling?” I ask Evelyn.

“I’ll be fine.”

“You need to take another hit of your inhaler. It’s cold.” I glance at the woods beyond her that appear dark and menacing as I consider us running through them.

Evelyn nods as she slips the inhaler between her lips again and takes another pull.

“We’ll stop here,” I tell him. “Which direction do we run?”

“Drive as close to the tree line as possible, and then run a few hundred feet and find somewhere to hide. The cops will be there soon. Abe’s on the phone with them now.”

I place my arm across Evelyn’s chest. “Hold on.” I turn the wheel so sharply, the tires screech with protest. The weight of the car shifts dangerously to the right side for several seconds before we land on all four tires with so much impact, we bounce in the air, nearly hitting our heads on the roof of the car. The dash is flashing and beeping as I drive straight for the trees. Behind us, Julian skids to a stop on the highway.

“Mila?” Grey’s voice is strained, every ounce of control that usually consumes him gone.

“I love you,” I say again. “I’ll see you soon.” It’s a promise. An oath.

I silence my phone, and zip it into my pocket as I duck out of the car not about to be the idiot in the movie who leaves every way of being tracked or calling for help behind. Evelyn meets me on the other side, eyes filled with determination and fear.

I grab her hand and we sprint for the dark wall of trees and vines as Julian drives toward us.

A sharp popping sound echoes behind us. We don’t turn around. Brambles and branches snag our clothes and scratch every fraction of our exposed skin.

“He has a gun,” Evelyn whispers, frantically.

I thought a gun would be louder. It’s another thing Hollywood has lied about.

There’s a scraping sound in her lungs, a warning that has her shoulders heaving and her skin pallid. Her stress or the cold—both—are too much even for her inhalers.

The sounds of moving grass and breaking twigs alerts us that Julian’s not nearly far enough behind us.

“You need to hide,” I tell her urgently, tugging off my coat.

Evelyn bats me away as I open it for her. “He’s too close. We need to keep going.”

“You can’t run. You need to warm up and hide. The cops will be here soon. We just need to buy some time.”

“Then we’re hiding together.”

I search for a hiding place. “I’m going to lead him the other way.”

Evelyn shakes her head as her fingers become talons around my wrist. “We’re not separating.”

“He’ll hear you,” I say, hating myself for making her feel weak. But her breaths are louder and more ragged than our shared words. “You need to take your medicine, warm up, and stop running.”

Defeat has a tear slipping down her cheek.

“I’ll be fine. I swear. I’m going to distract him and then hide. I’ll come back as soon as the cops arrive. Don’t move until then.” I help her into my jacket. The black coat conceals her, allowing most of her to fade into the dark forest. I motion toward a fallen tree and point to the slight indention that allows her enough space to crawl into.

Evelyn’s shivering as she clutches her inhaler. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” I say with a nod. Her breaths are too loud and distinctive. I know I only have minutes to lead him far enough away.

“Swear you’ll be okay,” Evelyn says.

I nod. “I swear.” I can’t tell Evelyn how much I love her, how our friendship has slowly been healing wounds in my chest for the past thirteen years, allowing me to overcome and better myself in ways many of my past therapists didn’t think I could be healed.

Tears streak down her face, and I know she’s refusing to say the same words. “Go. Hide.”

I drag a fallen branch up to further conceal her, and then remain still. I strain to listen over Evelyn’s heavy breathing and my pounding heart.

I can’t see him, but the sound of breaking branches taunts my nerves as I consider a safe route to cut away from Evelyn without getting too close to Julian.

I curse my light blue sweater that makes me stand out, and boots that make running uncomfortable and difficult before sprinting to hide behind a nearby tree. I dash to the next, and then another, working to get far enough away from Evelyn before making a sound.

Once I’m far enough away, I stop behind another tree and rummage around on the ground until finding a rock. The forest has gone silent. Julian’s listening for me, now.

I throw the rock away from me, in the opposite direction of Evelyn, as far as I can, then run like hell. I tear through bushes and trees, ignoring how my ankles sting and ache as they roll while trying to find purchase on the uneven ground and protruding stumps and rocks I can’t see.

Rustling behind me tells me Julian’s running too.

I stop behind a large bush, trying to silent my heavy breaths.

For the first time in my life, I curse the snow as it breaks through the canopy overhead. It won’t be deep enough for tracking, but everything will be slick.

My heart and breaths feel amplified as I try to listen for Julian’s whereabouts.

A stick breaks in the distance, and fear nearly cripples me. He’s not following me; he’s heading straight for Evelyn.

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