Chapter 8: The Fake Zone: Chapter 8

I debate ignoring the door, positive I’ll find Lenny or some other idiot from the team who’s had too much to drink and can’t remember their room number. Another rap of knuckles has me dropping my ice pack to the nightstand and heading for the door. Mila stands outside, her cheeks red and hair pulled back as she looks over her shoulder like someone’s following her. Instinct has me pulling her into the room and peering down either hall, assuring it’s clear before closing the door.

“What’s going on?” I ask. “Did something happen?”

She swallows, appearing so nervous and fragile I’m nearly convinced it’s Mila’s doppelganger rather than the fiercely confident and sarcastic woman I’ve harbored feelings for that expand far beyond platonic.

“Mila?”

“I need to preface this with I’m not trying to come on to you, and I’m not looking to be a damsel in distress, but at the risk of sounding crazy, can I sleep on your couch?”

I shake my head, working to articulate all the points she just made that don’t seem capable of fitting into a single sentence. “What happened?”

“I promise I don’t snore. I don’t sleepwalk. I don’t talk. I will lie there, be silent as a mouse, and leave by sunrise.”

“First, I need some answers.”

She shakes her head. “The couch is all I came to bargain for.”

“Great. Then let’s bargain.”

Mila winces, clearly regretting her words, but she doesn’t object or renege on the deal. “You owe me.”

“Just tell me, did something happen?”

She shakes her head, but relief is the last thing I feel because she’s still too nervous, too tense. “The room next to mine was just being really loud.”

I know she’s lying, and I’m pretty sure she knows that as she stares at me with pleading eyes, begging me to leave well enough alone.

“You’re too tall for the couch.”

She shakes her head. “I don’t mind. I curl up like a cat when I sleep.”

I glance at her pastel purple shorts and Camden tee, a dozen more questions on my lips.

“Just pretend I’m not here. Watch TV or do whatever you do before bed.” She sets her purse down and goes to the couch, where she lies down and curls on her side.

I wrench open the closet and grab the spare pillow and blankets.

“I don’t…” she starts.

I set the pillow above her head, shake the blanket, and drape it over her. “You can sleep on the bed with me. It’s a king. We can build a wall between us if it makes you feel better.”

Mila shoves the pillow I brought over under her head and lies back down. “I’m fine.”

“What would you have done if I didn’t answer?”

Mila’s eyes flick back to mine, reluctance in her gaze. “You’re supposed to pretend I’m not here.”

“Was it that guy from the elevator? Did he follow you?” I don’t know what I’m hoping for. Answers? An assurance that everything is okay? A clarification that she’s not mad at me for insinuating she slept with the fuckwad? Maybe all of it.

Mila pulls in a shallow breath. “Do you remember last spring when I stayed at Hudson’s for a few weeks?”

I nod slowly. I do because her staying at the dorms had all of us doubting their claim as only friends. Neither offered an explanation, only that Mila was staying there and that we needed to keep our mouths shut because it wasn’t allowed.

She nods, too, and I wonder if she recalls the rumors and jokes that spread about her dating Hudson as clearly as I am. “Someone had broken into my apartment, and now, I get a little paranoid when I hear things, especially when I’m alone and since Evelyn’s staying with Hudson…”

“Someone broke into your apartment?” Rage sluices through my restraint. “Were you home? What happened?”

Her eyes train on mine for a fraction of a second before she shakes her head. “Nothing. I called the police.”

“You were home when they broke in?” Revenge pulses through my veins, considering every nightmare she may have endured.

Her gaze darkens, not with lust but malevolence. “I was fine.”

We can recover from a whole hell of a lot, but surviving does not mean we’re fine. “Mila, I’m—”

“Nothing happened,” she insists. “I just get spooked. That’s all.”

“Someone breaking in isn’t nothing.”

Defiance has her lips pursing.

“And that guy from the elevator?”

“Was drunk and stupid. Let’s go to sleep. I’m sure you’re exhausted, and tomorrow will be another long day.”

She closes her eyes, effectively ending the conversation.

I sit on the edge of the bed, uncomfortable with this arrangement. “Your back and neck will hate you. It’s not even a couch. It’s half of a couch.”

Mila opens her eyes where humor dances with a look that isn’t contrived or guarded. “It’s a chaise, and I’ll be fine. Believe me. This is a thousand times better than…” She shakes her head and grabs the pillow, shifting it higher on the seat.

“Better than what?”

Mila clears her throat. “It’s a thousand times quieter than my room.” She tucks both hands under her pillow and closes her eyes again.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re stubborn?”

She smirks. “Only on good days.”

When I open my eyes, Mila’s still curled on the couch, her hands and legs tucked up to her chest.

I grab my phone and check for any messages from Cole to see how his fight went, but I only have two messages, one from my mom, a picture of waffles—the breakfast she always makes after every game—with a note that she’s proud of me. And the second is from Emma, congratulating me and asking if I want to hang out today.

This is the sixth text I’ve received from her since going to dinner with her where Mila posed as my girlfriend. I need the paid sponsorship her dad’s been promising me, and I have a sinking feeling that if I turn her down, his offer will be rescinded.

The moment I roll out of bed, Mila’s eyes flash open, and she sits up. She scans the room and stops on me, her shoulders sagging with what I can only believe is relief. She rubs a hand across her face, looking more tired than last night. The blanket slides lower, revealing her thin tee, and I note her nipples before pulling my gaze away, knowing she’ll skewer me if she catches me.

“Morning, sunshine.”

She flips me off and lies back down.

“We’re supposed to meet the others in the lobby for breakfast in fifteen minutes,” I warn her.

“Five more minutes.” Mila closes her eyes.

“I’m going to get in the shower.”

She gives me a thumbs up.

As I wash my hair, my thoughts return to last night and then back to last spring, working to recall if she had any bruises or cuts and if Hudson had mentioned anything that might have hinted at what occurred.

I question if he would tell me the details my brain demands to know as I wrap a towel around my waist on the off-case Mila didn’t leave.

I find her asleep again, the blanket pulled up to her chin. I take the stolen second to study her, something I can’t do when she’s awake. She’s always stunning, drawing attention wherever we go.

She shifts, and I turn away, grabbing some clothes that I carry into the bathroom to get dressed. I brush my teeth with the door open and the light on, hoping it will wake her up.

It does. The window shade slides open with a whir of the tracks, and sunlight fills the room. Mila’s sitting up, knees folded against her chest with the blanket draped around her shoulders as she wipes the sleep from her eyes for a second time. She’s not a morning person.

“Do you have a sweatshirt I can borrow?”

To cover her breasts that her thin tee reveals too much of without a bra.

I nod and cross over to my bag, grabbing the one I’d worn on travel day.

Mila catches it and pulls it over her head, surprised when the sleeves cover her hands.

“You’re short compared to me,” I remind her.

Mila unfolds slowly, rolling her shoulders and neck like they might be sore from sleeping on the too-small and too-hard surface all night. Guilt leaves me feeling annoyed, and I wait for her to make a snappy comment about not waking her up or a dozen other things, but instead, she turns and refolds the blanket before stacking the pillow on it.

“Thanks again for last night,” she says, her voice quiet but sincere as she looks at me and then quickly away.

“It’s not a problem.”

She gives a tight-lipped smile, slides her shoes on, and grabs her purse. “How much do you think Katie will freak out if I go to breakfast before getting ready?” Katie has a reputation for being an unforgiving hardass.

“Someone else will be there in their pajamas.”

She shakes her head. “But no one from our group.”

“Nolan might.”

Mila shakes her head again. “Not likely. Not with Hadley here.” She seems to weigh her options for half a minute. “Maybe I should go get ready before coffee.”

“We both know you can’t function before coffee,” I say, pulling the door open.

“Preferably two coffees,” Mila says, holding up two fingers as she follows me into the hall.

I start to grin, but the reaction slips away as I notice Emma approaching us, wearing denim cutoffs and a shirt that shows most of her midriff. She looks past me at Mila and narrows her eyes.

Mila will be the first person to tell me she doesn’t need my help, but I intervene, wrapping an arm around her waist before stepping in front of her and blocking her from Emma’s glare.

She tilts her chin a little higher and arches a brow as she stops. “I thought players had to double in rooms?”

Some universities require it, but like our large dorms, single rooms are one of the perks Camden uses to attract talent.

I try to think of a suitable response, but Mila slips her arms around my waist and leans into me. “After all their hard work and sacrifice, it’s a small perk.” She places a hand against my chest that feels nearly as protective and intentional as my grip on her. “Hi again, by the way.”

Emma’s gaze is filled with disdain. “Way to flaunt it.”

Mila’s fingers fist around my shirt, and she leans further into me. “Can you blame me?”

Emma raises her eyebrows with judgment. “Have a nice day.” She passes us and stabs the elevator button.

Neither of us moves until the doors slide shut, and then Mila peels away from me, making the boundary that always exists between us even wider. “We should probably fake a breakup over breakfast.”

“Why would we do that?”

“Because fake dating me isn’t going to do you any favors. She hates me, if you didn’t notice during our fun little threesome.”

A couple carrying a car seat stares at us as they pass, the man coughing in an attempt to hide his laughter while the woman can’t hide her shock as she stares at us.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Mila calls. “It was just a conversation. Not an invitation. Not even … a trio. We were talking as a trio!” She smacks a hand across her face, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. I think this might be the most off-kilter I’ve ever seen her, and I am beyond amused.

“Stop smirking.” She tries to make the words sound like a threat, but exhaustion and humiliation soften them.

“Trust me, you’re not deterring Emma enough. She’s sent me several texts inviting me to hang out.”

Mila’s jaw drops. “She’s texting you even though she thinks we’re dating? What a…” She doesn’t finish her sentence. “I need coffee.” She turns for the elevators.

“Grey! Mila!” Nolan calls, waving a hand as we enter the lobby. He and the rest of our group are crowded around two tables they’ve pushed together.

Mila doesn’t say anything before peeling off toward the food. I make my way to the group, taking the empty seat next to Corey.

“Perfect timing. We were just discussing Hannah’s love for pickles and sausages,” Palmer says, spearing a breakfast sausage.

Hannah’s cheeks flame pink, promising the conversation wasn’t meant to be embarrassing but turned south quickly.

Hadley cackles, leaning into Nolan, who dips his face to hers and kisses her hairline. Evelyn tries to muffle her laughter.

Hannah shakes her head and stabs a bite of breakfast with her fork. “Finish eating so we can get going. I haven’t been to Disney World since I was ten.”

“We used to go twice a year. My parents still go all the time,” Corey says.

“You can be our Disney guide,” Evelyn says. “I’ve never been.”

Most of our friend circle comes from wealth. Attending Camden and receiving things like free tickets to Disney World, flights on private jets, and catered meals has me sampling what my life could be like—what I would love to provide for my mom after years of her working so damn hard to make ends meet.

“You have ten minutes to eat, or we’re leaving without you,” Katie says, looking at me.

“She’s ruthless,” Hadley says.

I grin as I stand. “We could use her on the team.”

“Want some more sausages?” Palmer asks Hannah as he stands to join me.

Evelyn grins, coming along as well.

Several guys from the team are filling plates, talking about their days, and making plans. I fill two plates and find Mila gripping a coffee and plate filled with food as she locates Evelyn and waves off whatever question that has Mila glancing down at my sweatshirt and shaking her head.

As we eat, Katie keeps track of time, and only a little steam releases from her ears when Evelyn tells her that Mila took her breakfast upstairs so she can get ready.

Thirty minutes later than Katie ordered, we’re outside, the sun and anticipation of the theme parks sparking in my veins and making each step up onto the bus lighter.

I don’t know what I was expecting, but as we step into Disney World, it’s like stepping into another world, complete with theme music and costumes.

Evelyn stops beside me, turning to take in all the angles and sights, the sweet scents from a nearby bakery, the jovial music streaming over invisible speakers, and more people than I’ve ever seen in a single place apart from a football stadium.

“Okay,” Corey says. “We’ll meet together at two for lunch?”

I cut my attention to him, realizing I should have paid more attention to what Hannah and Katie were planning while on the bus over here.

“Text if you’re going to be late,” Katie says, slapping on a pair of sunglasses and checking her watch.

I know how the groups will break apart before they do, Nolan with Hadley, Hannah and Katie, and Corey with Palmer.

“Grey, do you want to stick with us?” Evelyn asks. She, Mila, and Hudson are the final group.

Mila raises a brow at me before inclining her head in the direction of where Corey and Palmer are heading. “Aren’t roller coasters and bad decisions your thing?”

Hudson grins. “Where should we start?”

Evelyn shakes her head. “I don’t even know where to start.”

Mila points. “We have to go down Main Street, regardless.” It doesn’t surprise me that she’s familiar with the park. She’s one of the wealthiest in our group.

“How many times have you been here?” Evelyn asks, looking around as we cross by storefronts and vendors with giant bouquets of colorful balloons.

Mila blows out a breath and shakes her head. “More times than I can count.”

Hudson grins. “Alex is a Disney fanatic. He finds every excuse to come down here.”

Mila’s smile is the opposite of Corey’s dismissive shrug when mentioning how often he’s been here. Instead, her face is serene, as though seeing this place holds significance for her.

“Have you been here many times?” I ask Hudson.

“Just once when I was ten. My grandparents took me for my birthday. It’s too loud and full for Griff,” he says. “Have you?”

I shake my head.

“Maybe we start off jumping into the deep end,” Evelyn says, her eyes bright, filled with determination.