Would You Rather: A College Romance (Campus Games Book 3)
Would You Rather (Campus Games Book 3): Chapter 8

Just go with it

“You need to relax.”

Her head whips back to face me, and she narrows her eyes. I wonder if there will ever be a day when I see a smile from this girl. I doubt it. “I’m trying,” she says, glancing behind her shoulder once again.

God damn it. She’s going to blow it.

“Come on,” I gesture to the small café ahead of us. “Let’s grab a coffee.” She’s lucky they’re not here yet. At least I don’t see them. We’re supposed to act like a happy couple, but Madeline here is making that a little hard to do.

She shakes her head. “I’ve had two already.”

My eyes widen as I stare back at her. “It’s ten thirty.”

She shrugs, letting out an aggravated sigh. “I was nervous and had the worst night’s sleep. I needed it.”

I let out a laugh, shaking my head. “That explains it.”

“Explains what?” she asks, her brows knitted together.

“Why you’re so jumpy,” I clarify, nudging my shoulder against hers. She rolls her eyes, but I can see a hint of a smile on there.

“I am not jumpy,” she says as she glances to the left and right.

“Are you sure about that?” My tone is filled with humor, but she doesn’t even catch it because she’s still looking around. Fuck, I need to distract her. “If not coffee, then what should we do for our first date?”

I get the reaction I was looking for when she narrows her brown eyes at me. “This is not a date.”

That’s it. Just keep looking at me. If I can manage to get her mind off the paparazzi, maybe she won’t give us away. “I don’t know about that,” I joke. “Looks like a date to me.”

Her nose scrunches as she shakes her head. “This would be the last place I would go on for a date,” she says.

“Yeah?” I ask her, rubbing a hand over my chin. “Then what would you prefer? What’s your dream first date?” She glances at me, blinking, and I let out a laugh. “Come on, I know girls think about this. Trust me, I’ve heard my sister talk about it enough.”

She smiles a little. “You have a sister?”

I nod. “She just turned thirteen and is already wiser than I’ll ever be.” Too smart for her own good, that little shit.

Madeline smirks. “It’s not hard to do,” she quips.

I narrow my eyes at her. “Stop trying to insult me and answer the question.”

Her grin settles when she breathes out a sigh. She’s quiet while we walk, but then I see her lips curve downwards. “I don’t know,” she finally says.

“Are you afraid you’ll tell me and then want me to recreate it?” I tease.

She lets out a scoff. “Never in a million years.”

Yeah, I’m starting to see that she means that, which is good. Other girls Ana hired might have wanted to date or more specifically, sleep with me, but I know I don’t have to worry about that with Madeline.

Would I like to settle down one day? Sure, the idea seems nice, but I just don’t know if it will ever happen. But even if I wanted to, I’m not ready to date. I have people I need to take care of that need my undivided attention. There’s none left to go to anyone else.

“You want some ice cream?” I ask her, gesturing to the small ice cream truck ahead. The ice cream truck looking like something out of the fifties, tattered, and its paint chipping off. She doesn’t answer, but keeps walking, which I’ll take as a yes. “What flavor do you want?” I ask her.

She cocks her head at me. “You’re going to order something weird, aren’t you?”

“What’s your idea of weird?”

She scans my face, finally letting out a small breath, almost sounding like an actual laugh. “You just look like the type that orders mint ice cream.”

How the hell? “Hey, don’t knock it ‘till you try it,” I tell her, watching as she grimaces.

“I knew it. How can you like that flavor? It tastes of toothpaste.”

My chest shakes with a laugh. “I don’t get why everyone says that. It doesn’t taste of toothpaste.” Seriously? What is it with the mint ice cream hate?

“What else should I know about you?” she asks. “Any dead bodies? Crazy ex-girlfriends? Maybe a scandal?”

“Nothing,” I say, heading toward the older lady in the truck. She smiles when we approach her, like I’m one of few customers, and it caves my chest in. “I’m perfectly normal.”

“You know I could just look you up, and I’d know everything I needed to know about you.”

I shake my head. “I’d rather you didn’t.”

“So you do have a dark past?”

“No,” I affirm. “I just don’t want you to see the lies the press spread about me.”

She’s quiet for a moment, but then she lets out a breath. “I guess I’m one of them now, right? A lie.”

My brows knit together, hating how that sounds.

“What can I get for you today?” I turn my head to the lady smiling down at us from inside her truck.

“Mint chocolate chip, please.” I catch the way Madeline grimaces at my order.

“Cherry deluxe. Thank you,” Madeline says, flashing her a smile I’ve never seen directed at me. It’s a good thing, really. Because fuck, it’s a nice smile.

I shake my head with a laugh. “Seriously?” I ask her. “You gave me a hard time about choosing mint, and you pick cherry?” I breathe out a laugh. “That’s got to be the worst flavor.”

“Don’t judge my ice cream preference,” she says, shooting me a glare.

I let out a laugh, pulling out my wallet to pay for the ice cream, leaving a hefty tip that she gasps at. She’s got to be older than my mom, and she’s on her feet all day in a small ass truck. The least I could do was make her day.

I shoot her a smile, thanking her for the ice cream before we head to the park. It’s quiet today, being a Monday. Not a lot of people around, which is good if this is going to work. I’m not sure how Madeline would react to fans coming up to us, asking for pictures, or wanting to talk.

But when I turn my gaze to hers, she’s frowning at me. “You didn’t have to do that,” she says.

“Do what?”

“Pay for me,” she elaborates. “I can pay for myself.”

“I know that,” I say, furrowing my brows. “It wasn’t a big deal.” I didn’t even think twice about it, but I’m not about to argue about a five-dollar ice cream.

“I don’t want to owe you,” she says, holding out her ice cream.

What the fuck?

“Owe me?” I repeat, letting out a laugh, but when I see the serious look on her face, I realize she isn’t joking. “Madeline, you don’t owe me anything,” I assure her. I watch as her scowl dissipates, her eyes softening. I swear they get bigger the more she looks at me. “Not now or ever. If I ever decide to do something for you, no matter what it is, I don’t expect anything back.”

Honestly, I know we’re not the best of friends, and we got off on the wrong foot, but come on, does she really think I’d do that?

She’s still staring at me, her big brown eyes glancing up as her lips are twisted in a frown. They’re not red this time, and I’ve got to say, I kind of miss it. She glances down at her ice cream once again, and I let out a sigh. “Just eat the damn ice cream woman,” I tell her, shaking my head. “It’s melting.”

The corner of her mouth lifts before her tongue swipes out, swirling around the tip of the ice cream, sucking it into her mouth.

Fuck.

I rip my gaze away from her, finishing off my dessert at a rate that will probably give me brain freeze, but I need to focus on something else other than the thoughts roaming around my head.

What the fuck am I doing staring at her mouth? I shouldn’t do that. I don’t even like the girl. She’s a pain in my ass, annoying as hell, and makes being around me seem like a chore. I reluctantly turn around, looking at her again.

She glances up at me, her brows furrowed. “What?” she asks, wiping at the corner of her mouth. “Do I have something on my face?”

I shake my head, but when something flashes behind her, my head snaps up, spotting a camera. Wait, no, two cameras. And where there’s two, there’s more somewhere. I watch as one of the guys talks to the other, shaking his head. Fuck, they’re not buying it.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I grab Madeline by her waist and pull her flush to me. Her lips part open as she lets out a gasp, placing her hand flat against my chest. “What are you doing?” she asks, scowling at me.

Saving your ass, that’s what. “Just go with it,” I murmur, trying not to look up at them.

“We agreed only necessary touching,” she says like she’s offended I’m actually touching her right now.

I narrow my eyes down at her. “Believe me, this is necessary.”

“How so?” she asks, arching an eyebrow. I let out a sigh, and my hand moves half an inch across her back, making her stiffen under my touch. Jesus, this girl really does not like me touching her.

“The paps are here,” I tell her.

Wrong fucking move.

“What?” Her head twists in every direction, trying to seek them out.

“Jesus.” My hand reaches up to cup her face. “Stop that. you’re going to blow our cover.”

Our eyes meet for a second, and she lets out a harsh breath. “We’re not detectives, you know.”

“Good thing we’re not.” I cock my head at her. “If we were, you would have gotten us fired. Or killed.” My eyes glance up, noticing the camera flashing at us.

I rub my thumb over her cheek, hearing her suck in a breath, her eyes widening. “What are you doing?” she whispers.

“I can see them,” I tell her, feeling her soft skin under my fingers as I brush her hair behind her ear. “They’re not buying it. We have to make it believable.”

“You’re ruining my silk press,” she whispers, narrowing her eyes at me.

I glare down at her. “My hands are dry.”

“I can feel your clammy hands,” she murmurs.

I let out a laugh, finding it amusing how stubborn this woman is, but it isn’t until her lips part that I realize how close we are. My eyes instinctively drop to them, and I let myself picture it. Kissing her. Tasting her. I know exactly what she would taste of right now. Rich, sweet cherries. What would it be like?

But when I see the rapid movement of her chest, I know that will never happen.

I let out a sigh, dropping my shoulders. “You don’t have to be nervous. I’m not going to kiss you,” I assure her. “You said that was off limits, and I listen, okay?”

She stares up at me for a while but then nods, licking her lips. I rub my thumb over her cheek again. “We need to give them something, though,” I tell her, scanning her eyes for any sort of discomfort. We need to make it interesting enough that people talk about it, about us. But I also need to keep it within Madeline’s rules.

“My cheek,” she whispers. I nod, leaning in, and press my lips to her left cheek, her warm skin heating my lips from the touch.

The subtle sound of her throat as she swallows, prompts me to pull back and meet her eyes. I can see how nervous she is, and I don’t want her to be. “You see? That wasn’t too bad,” I tease.

Her shoulders relax, and she lets out a scoff. “Well, I didn’t burst into flames from touching you, if that’s what you mean.”

A laugh escapes me. It’s astounding how she goes right back to hating me so quickly when she was shaking in my arms less than a minute ago. “Who would have guessed an actress was bad under pressure.”

She frowns, and I instantly want to kick myself for saying it. “I’m normally better than that. I was just worried they’d see through it.”

“I get it,” I assure her. “I was just joking. You don’t need to prove anything to me, Madeline. It can be scary to be under observation constantly.” I do a quick glance, trying to see if the paparazzi are still following us, but I can’t see them. “This was fun, though,” I tell her as we walk ahead. “I can see why you want to be an actress.”

“Yeah,” she says, with a small smile as she looks down at her half-eaten ice cream cone. “It’s been my dream for so long. I don’t know what I’ll do if it doesn’t happen.”

“You don’t know it won’t,” I tell her, even though I’ve never seen this girl act before. “You’re still young. It could happen. Are you a drama major?”

She laughs, shaking her head. “I wish,” she says, scrunching her nose. “I study political science.”

“Parents idea?” I guess.

She nods, finishing off her ice cream. “I can’t really blame them. They just wanted me to have a stable career, not worry about money.” Her shoulders lift in a shrug. “They’re both lawyers, so they assumed I would want to be as well.” Her eyes lift to mine. “I don’t.”

“I got that,” I say with a laugh. S~ᴇaʀᴄh the FɪndNøvel.ɴᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“They paid for my tuition as long as I chose a bachelor’s degree,” she continues. “I guess in a way I wanted to please them, but I know they’re still holding out hope that I’ll go to law school once I graduate.” She shakes her head. “But I hate it. I have no interest in the subject.”

“Have you told them that?” I ask her.

“No way. I don’t want to disappoint them,” she admits with a slight frown. “I’ll let them think I’m following in their footsteps, and in the meantime, I’ll do whatever I can to try and make my dreams come true.”

I admire how determined she is to get what she wants. She isn’t scared to go after it, even when she knows it might not lead her where she wants it to. I wish I had that gumption. “So, what made you want to be an actress?” I ask.

“Cinderella,” she admits, glancing at me from the side. “I know it’s cliché, but I was obsessed with Disney movies as a kid. Especially Cinderella.”

“Pftt. Cinderella?” I shake my head. “Aladdin is the best Disney movie by far.”

A laugh escapes her. “That’s just one of many things we disagree on,” she says, flicking her long brown hair behind her shoulder when the wind blows it into her face. I let my eyes wander down her body, taking in the little blue and white dress she has on.

“I guess I knew then and there I wanted to do that.” Her voice snaps me out of whatever the hell I was doing, and I blink.

“Be rescued by a prince?” I taunt.

She glares at me. “Be the one behind the screen, not in front of it.” She cocks her head as she looks at me. “What made you want to be a model?”

I shrug. “I’ll let you know when I find it.”

“Something must have made you want to choose this career,” she says, and I don’t miss the way her eyes drop down to my figure as she gives me a once over.

I press my lips together in an attempt to hide my smile, and when her eyes meet mine again, I can’t help it. “Did you just check me out?” I ask her, unable to keep my grin at bay.

Her eyes widen. “Believe me, I very much didn’t.”

“Liar,” I whisper, leaning down. “I think you did.”

She rolls her eyes, pushing at my chest. “I knew you had a big ego. Was that it?” she asks, with a smirk. “You just loved seeing pictures of yourself?

My laugh settles, and I decide to be honest. “It was the money.”

She shakes her head. “Of course it was. So you didn’t have a passion for it, like Leila?”

I blink, my brows furrowing. “You know Leila?”

“I probably should have mentioned that before. She’s one of my best friends,” she explains. “When she saw the picture of us, she freaked out a little.”

I let out a laugh, picturing Leila wondering what the hell I was doing holding her friend. “Yeah, my mom did too. Did you tell her?” I ask. “About…” I gesture between us.

She shakes her head. “I told her the headlines were a lie, but that was before we agreed to the whole…” she drifts off, glancing around. Right. We probably shouldn’t be talking about how we’re faking a relationship in public. “But once she sees these pictures…” She shrugs, sighing. “I’ll have to lie, right?”

Well, shit. I already told my family and James, but I nod anyway. “It was stated in the NDA.”

She frowns a little, and I get it. I hate lying, especially to my family. “No,” I tell her. Her head snaps up, looking confused, and I continue. “To answer your previous question, I don’t have a passion for it. It’s just something that paid the bills, and it’s the only thing I’m good at so…”

“That can’t be true.”

I lift my shoulder. “This is all I have to offer,” I admit. “I didn’t go to college or do anything interesting other than this.” Her frown deepens, but I shake it off. “It’s fine,” I assure her. “It got me where I needed to be.”

“So you don’t have a dream? Something you’d love to do if you could?”

I don’t have time for dreams. Dreams get me nowhere, they don’t pay the bills, and they’re a complete waste of time. “Nope,” I tell her, even though I get a flash of my sketchbook in my mind. “Nothing.”

“That’s sad,” she admits.

Yeah, well. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out, reading the text Ana sent.

Ana:

We got it.

“Is that Ana?” Madeline asks.

I nod, placing my phone back in my pocket. “Yeah, she said we got it.” I let out a sigh when I realize this is finally done. We can both leave and go our separate ways. There’s no reason for us to hang out together, not when we don’t need to.

“We make a pretty good team,” I tell her, flashing her a smirk.

She rolls her eyes. “When you don’t piss me off,” she says, but then her eyes crinkle in thought. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought, though.”

No. It really wasn’t.

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