Chapter Ten

Honey

The little bell on top of the door rings as we walk into the Mexican restaurant. I stop at the entrance but feel Olivia's palms on my back pushing me forward. Glancing over my shoulder, she smiles, gesturing for me to keep moving. Never have I felt so out of place more than right now. The floor is a little sticky, and the smell of warm cheese will cling to me. My bloodhound of a mother will no doubt smell the grease on my clothes.

"Tell me again why I'm here."

Olivia chuckles, shaking her head. "Because if you want people to believe that you and Zach are a couple, then you need to be in each other's presence for longer than a few minutes."

Zach's blond hair pops against the red leather seats, and my breathing slows. He hasn't noticed me because he's too focused on a few of his teammates.

"Does Zach always come to these after-practice lunches?"

"Nope." Olivia pops the p. "He's usually too busy, or he's not invited, but today he wanted to make a statement with you."

Jamie sits on the other side of the restaurant with Connor, Brett, and Kyle. That's why Zach brought me here. To flaunt our relationship in front of them and give them a little taste of what's to come. My body shudders; I wish Zach had warned me. Now we've got to make this believable.

Glancing over at Zach, I'm surprised how at ease he is here. Considering he normally doesn't hang out with these guys, he looks happy. Drawing a play on a couple of napkins, his tongue pokes out in concentration, making me smile. It's cute.

I pause.

Did I just think that?

Zach's cute? I swallow, watching his smile grow as he raises the napkins. There's no denying he's gorgeous, but he's pretending to be my boyfriend. That's it.

His face lights up when his eyes connect with mine, and my stomach cramps. The smell of the burritos is clearly getting to me. I've avoided coming to places like this because they're too tempting.

"Don't just stand there looking like a goofy idiot. Go claim your man. Jamie's watching." Right. That's what I'm here for.

Following diligently behind Olivia, I keep my focus on Zach. The way he watches me acts like a compass, guiding me straight to him.

"Livi," Mike shouts, standing and wrapping her in a hug. "What are you doing here?" He kisses her cheek, then looks over at me and smiles. "Hey, Honey. Are you here to see your boy?" he asks with a smirk only he and I can see. He knows I wouldn't step foot in a place like this without a good reason.

I swallow, wetting my bottom lip. Before I can respond, Zach wraps his arms around me. "Hey, Kitten," he says, loud enough for the other two players at the table to hear. He kisses my cheek, and I freeze, still not used to the zing of electricity I get when his lips touch my skin. "Relax," he whispers. "Sam and Hunter are watching." He's right; if I want the football team to back off, they need to believe this.

"Hey, Z." He smiles when I stretch my arm around him, and I'm surprised at how much wider he is than Jamie. Squeezing my side, he leads me to the table. "Sam, get yourself a chair. I'm going to sit in the booth with my girl." The words fall out of Zach's mouth easily, but I have to stop myself from cringing. This whole thing feels so cheesy.

Scooting into the booth, I look around the restaurant, surprised that nothing has changed. "Have you been here before?" Zach asks, shuffling in.

"Once when I was six. My nanny brought me here because she believed queso was the answer to all life's problems."

"Sounds like she's got her priorities straight." Zach jokes.

"Too bad my parents didn't see it that way. They fired her the next day."

Mike lets out a low whistle, and Olivia stares at me with wide eyes. Come to think of it, the whole table has stopped and is watching me with surprise. I adjust myself against the seat and try to laugh it off. "Joking," I chime, but no one is laughing.

"What do you want for lunch, Sugar Lips?" Zach taps his thigh against mine, trying to help me out.

Why is this so hard, and why does it feel so awkward? Zach is nice, and he's the perfect distraction from Jamie, but I just can't get comfortable around him. I constantly feel like I'm on my tiptoes and worried about saying or doing the wrong thing.

With every touch of his thigh against mine, I scoot farther away until I'm backed into the corner. He lifts a brow before placing his arm around me. I lean into his chest, trying to make it look natural but feeling incredibly uncomfortable with an audience. Maybe we should have practiced before coming here.

"I'm not hungry," I say, ignoring the tortilla chips and queso in front of me.

"You sure about that? I can hear your stomach growling from here." I whip my head in Zach's direction, narrowing my eyes at his cavalier attitude. "What? I can't say I'm surprised. Your stomach must be yearning for something other than lettuce. She'll have a chicken enchilada with rice and beans," Zach tells the waitress, and before I can retort, he squeezes my shoulder, encouraging me to play along. I look up, catching eyes with Sam and then Hunter, and do my best to muster up a smile. I can't believe I agreed to come here with Olivia. What a stupid move. By the time I've eaten this, I'll be bloated and huge. If my mother doesn't smell the cheese on me when I get home, she'll certainly see the weight gain. Then she'll probably check that tracking app she doesn't think I know about.

Zach kisses my forehead, then flicks my hair over my shoulder. "Jamie's watching," he says so softly it almost sounds like he's saying something dirty.

His breath tickles the back of my neck, and I giggle, too engrossed with Zach's acting to notice anything else.

"Is that what we look like?" Olivia asks with disgust on her face.

"Nah. We're much more discreet." Mike copies Zach, kissing Olivia on the forehead.

"Please, for the love of God, spare us." Sam elbows Hunter on the side to get his agreement.

My phone buzzing makes me jump, and Zach pats my blazer pocket. "Was that you?"

I nod, pulling out the phone to check that it's not my mother calling. A different name flashes on my screen, and when I look up, Jamie's staring at me from across the restaurant with a cocked brow, waiting for me to respond.

Jamie: You're letting him order for you now? Hope you're paying. Doubt SK can afford it.

I wet my lips, unsure of how to respond. Zach puffs out a laugh. "Wow. The guy really can't leave you alone, can he?" Wilting a little, I hide my phone out of pure embarrassment that he saw the message.

"Hey, Jamie," Zach calls, lifting his chin. "Stop texting your ex. She's over your sorry ass."

"Zach, stop," I hiss out, slapping him on the chest. The jeers and mumbles from the football team are obvious, and I stare at the peppers printed on the plastic table cover so I don't have to meet anyone's gaze.

"Just making sure you can afford to take out a girl like Honey, that's all," Jamie replies with similar nonchalance.

The loud, annoyed grumbling of the other patrons is unavoidable now, but neither seem to care. "You should have worried about that when you had her."

"Zach, stop. Please." I clutch his hand, urging him to stop embarrassing me. His grin slowly drops when he sees my face, and then he waffles our fingers together.

"I'm sorry, Bambi. I just hate it when he tries to make you the butt of his jokes."

"Don't rise to it. That's what he wants."

"So, Zach," Olivia says, drawing our attention away from Jamie. "Are you taking Honey to Eric's Halloween party on Friday?" I bite my lip, cringing on the inside because I was planning on asking him that later, not in front of everyone. Olivia's put him on the spot, and as Zach looks at me, I don't know what to say.

"I don't go to parties," he states, shifting his shoulders.

Sam looks between us before addressing Zach. "You sure you want your new girlfriend going to a party without you? A party the whole football team will be attending." He raises a brow, and it takes me a couple seconds to realize he's suggesting the players might do something to ruin his chances of winning the bet.

"Is that really what you want to do with your Friday night, Sweet Cheeks? I could take you out somewhere else instead." There it is. It's obvious Zach wants out, and I don't want to go either, but just as I'm about to say we don't have to go, my gaze connects with Jamie's again.

With his chin dipped, he watches me, grinning because he thinks I'm being played the fool. Why did I think fake dating would make me feel better about this situation? If anything, this makes me look worse because Jamie thinks I'm falling for a guy using me for money.

The only way I can salvage my dignity is to make it look like Zach really wants me.

"Umm, I think I'd really like to go to Eric's party." It's a necessity now. If I want people to believe it, we have to show them something.

Sam and Hunter whistle.

"It won't be so bad." Mike clasps Zach's shoulder. "Olivia and I will be there too."

"Let's make one thing clear. If I go to this party, I'll be spending the whole night with my girl. Whether it be in a room full of our asshole friends or hidden away in one of the bedrooms, Honey will be by my side the entire time." A possessiveness in his voice sends a thrill up my spine. He nuzzles into my neck, his breath tickling my back, relaxing me. "One thing I don't do, though, is dress up. I don't care if it's Halloween. It's not happening."

Hunter snorts. "Don't worry; with your leather jacket and white shirt, you'll look like a regular James Dean."

"James Dean's jacket was red, though." Olivia points out before looking between us. "What? Rebel Without a Cause is an awesome movie."

"Danny from Grease, then," Hunter retorts.

"But Zach's blond," Mike says, and it's funny how annoyed Zach is getting at this innocent conversation. As a sign of solidarity, I rest my hand on his thigh, and he's quick to place his palm over it.

"Fine, Kenickie, then," I suggest.

"Oh," Olivia squeals. "That would be perfect. Honey, you could go as Rizzo and be Zach's little bad girl." With a faint, wicked smile, I know she's taunting me.

"Can't wait," I say with a fixed, sarcastic grin.

As the waitress drops the enchilada in front of me, my stomach flips again, but this time in hunger. The melted cheese drips down the side of the tortilla wrap, and my fingers are itching to shove the whole thing in my mouth.

"Go on. You should have it." Zach's hand squeezes mine. It's like he knows the internal battle going through my mind. Too bad he doesn't know about my mom's daily weight gain tracking or that I don't remember the taste of queso. Over the last two weeks, I've only been able to shift a couple of pounds which has made no difference in the fit of my skirt, and I'm sure I'll get put on an even more restrictive diet if I don't shift the weight soon. "I can tell you want it. There's the tiniest drop of drool at the corner of your mouth."

His fingers brush the edge of my lips, wiping away the nonexistent drool. "I'm okay, thanks. You have it. You've got football practice tonight anyway." I push the plate away, feeling sadness as the spicy rice moves farther away.

Everyone else has dropped into their own conversations, leaving Zach watching my every move. "You know, if you're worried about the salt retention, I can get you a glass of water with lemon, and you can walk back to school with me. It'll be like you never had it."

When I pull my gaze up, he's offering me a warm, encouraging smile. I still don't think I'm going to eat anything because I know the repercussions, but it's sweet of him to try and make me feel better about it. "Come on," he says, elbowing my side. "You have one life. At least have a bite of the enchilada. Let your stomach be happy for all of two seconds. It probably forgot the taste of real food years ago."

He pushes the plate back in front of me, and I bite my lip, smelling the tempting spice. Flitting my gaze between the food and Zach, I can't help but want to see him smile again. "I guess one bite wouldn't hurt." After grabbing the fork, I take the smallest of bites possible before I can regret it. "That's my girl." Zach drapes his arm over my shoulder, kissing me on the cheek as I chew the enchilada.

An explosion of spice fills my mouth, and I want more. So I take it.

Bite after bite, I'm halfway through the enchilada before I've seen sense and stop myself. When I open my eyes, the whole table stares at me, wide-eyed and confused.

"What?" I ask, looking around.

Olivia shakes her head. "Nothing. Just never seen you eat like that before."

"That's an understatement," Mike mutters.

"Did I do something wrong?" Looking between them, I drop my fork. I don't feel all that hungry anymore.

"You're good, Lambchop. Keep eating." Zach's encouragement doesn't change my mind. I've lost my appetite, so I push my plate in his direction, knowing he'll eat the rest.

Scrunching Zach's shirt in my hand, I get his attention before he walks into school. "Hey, look, I'm sorry about everything that happened back there," I say with unease because I don't know how Zach will react.

"For what?" He tilts his head, and his lips curve into a mischievous grin. "The orgasmic noises that you make when you eat something with flavor?"

"Excuse me?"

He knocks me with his elbow. "Why do you think everyone was watching you after you ate?"

Realization hits me like a cement block, and embarrassment flows through my veins. I don't know what to say.

"Don't worry, Snuckems. I liked it." He winks as though that's going to make me feel better about the whole thing. Thank goodness no one was filming; otherwise, I'm sure that would have been another viral video for me to be taunted by. "Your sex noises don't bother me. But they do raise some serious questions over Jamie's bedroom skills. The guy was doing something wrong if a piece of cooked meat can get your rocks off that easily." Zach speaks with authority, and my body pulses as I take in what he said.

Shaking my head, I push aside those thoughts and focus on what's important. "No, it's not that. I'm sorry that Olivia and the guys forced you into taking me to Eric's party. That wasn't exactly how I wanted to ask you."

He raises a brow, studying my face. "But you were planning on asking me?"

Pushing my lips, I take my time to respond. There's so much I don't know about Zach, and I don't want to offend him. "Yeah, I guess I was. I knew I had to go and didn't want to go alone. I thought we might be more believable if you were there." Selfishly, I also didn't want to see Jamie cozying up to McKenna while I stand in the corner watching like that creepy girl in The Roommate.

Zach takes my hand in his, bending so he can look me in the eyes. If anyone's watching—and I'm certain everyone's watching—they'd think it was a romantic gesture. He's better at remembering to keep up the fa?ade than me. "You're right. If we want to keep those guys out of your way, we need more proof that we're real." One by one, he kisses my knuckles, watching my reaction with a small grin on his face. "Act natural, Butterscotch. People are watching," he says between kisses, and I laugh. "There you go. That looks better. Now, what time do you need me at the party?"

"Are you sure you want to go?"

"I'm about twenty-five thousand dollars sure that I want them to think we're serious. Let's do this."

"Okay, then, I'll pick you up at nine."

A frown mars his face for the tiniest of seconds before a fake smile takes over. "How about you pick me up at the bus stop by the school at nine thirty?"

That's weird, but I don't question it, as he does live across town, and maybe he wants to save me the journey. "Sure. Sounds great."