Page 23 of Movers and Fakers

Her eyes narrow. “Were you?”

I give her my best smile. She glowers.

This is going to go swimmingly, I’m sure.

Chapter twelve

Dating Allegations

Aurora Driscoll

There are way too many eyes on me as I follow Hayes through the fraternity’s backyard gate. My stomach sloshes. I feel like I did twenty pirouettes without spotting. Once we’re on the other side of the fence, I feel marginally better, but now I’m wondering what they think we’re doing.

“Only the shadows would know what we said or did.”

I shiver at the memory. Hayes glances down at me, now to my right as we walk the sidewalk.

“Are you still cold?”

“I’m fine,” I bite out. “And so help me, Hayes, if you offer to warm me up—”

“I won’t,” he says quickly. “I have some self-preservation skills.”

“Your previous actions prove otherwise,” I grumble.

He stays quiet for a moment, and I focus on taking deep breaths of the crisp autumn air. Unfortunately, each breath is filled with him, because I’m wrapped in his stupid jacket. I shouldn’t have taken it. I shouldn’t have let him put his arm around me. Shouldn’t have even walked over to him.

Why did I walk over to him?

I stifle a groan. He’d looked so helpless standing next to Mckinleigh. I’d thought it would be funny to mess with them both, and maybe a part of me thought I could save him from his own stupidity, too. Now I’m paying for it.

“Hear me out.” Hayes speaks up as we pass beneath a streetlamp. His hair flashes amber in the light.

“I have a whole list of regrets for tonight. What's another?” I mutter.

“That’s the spirit,” he says with a tinge of amusement in his voice.

I shoot him a burning glare.

“Okay, I’ll come right out and ask: what if we pretended to date for a little while?”

“Why would I want to do that?” I ask, pulling my arms through his jacket as a cold wind blows.

Hayes scratches the back of his neck. “If we break up five seconds after everyone heard we’re dating, Mckinleigh will be back to her stalking ways.”

“What she did hardly qualifies as stalking, but I see your point nonetheless.” His expression turns hopeful, but I squash that hope like a bug with my next words. “I still don’t see how this benefits me.”

He sighs, his breath creating a cloud of white in front of him. We’re nearing the quad now, and I can see the alcove with fairy lights up ahead. It’s one of my favorite places to walk through at night, and I’d rather not poison the beauty with this. I stop under the next streetlamp we encounter, and Hayes follows suit.

“I could—”

I hold up a hand. “If you say pay me, I will be forced to slap you.”

A laugh bursts out of him. “Forced, huh?”

“I’m not a prostitute, or an escort or—” I gag on the words. “A sugar baby. I won’t do this for any amount of money.”

Amusement dances in his green eyes.