Chapter Six

Zach

Pulling out my mouth guard, the blood pumps through my body, exacerbating the thumping in my head from a knock I sustained earlier in the game. As expected, we won, but when I look out into the crowd and only see a bunch of rich pricks, it all feels a little hollow. My parents couldn't come, and the game was way past Ella's bedtime, so Tiff had to stay home. Not that I'd want them here among these students, but I just miss the days of playing football for the fun of it with teammates I liked.

I miss North Central High.

The rest of the team rush off the bench, storming the field in celebration as I walk away. No one will miss me in their pile-up, so I pull my helmet off, ready to go home. Coach clocks me, and when I point to the tunnel, indicating that I'm leaving, he nods, mouthing a T hank you for everything I did tonight.

He knows how much I gave up to be here but also how much I've gained from the opportunity. No D1 college would even be looking at me without the notoriety of South Point, and I certainly wouldn't already have an offer from St. Michael's without it.

Giving Coach a small smile in acknowledgment, I walk to the tunnel that leads to the home locker room.

"Zach!" Her voice makes me stop, and when I turn to see Honey looking all kinds of flustered—and hot—as she storms her way toward me, students watch us with interest when she pushes through them, probably surprised she knows my name. Slinking under the railing, she hops onto the field and takes a minute to ground herself because her heels sink into the turf.

Who wears designer heels to a high school football game?

Putting her out of her misery, I take a few steps closer so she doesn't have to try balancing on those spikes. "Everything okay, Honey?" I ask, holding my hands out so she can brace herself on me instead of relying on her clearly terrible balance.

Without thinking, she takes my hands, sliding our palms together as she stands. This time, she looks less like a fawn and more like a racehorse as her back straightens and shoulders square. However impractically dressed she is tonight, I can't deny that she came here to impress. Her hair is bouncy and flowing like a Miss America contestant and she's cut the bottom of Jamie's jersey off so that her flat, toned stomach is on full display. The girl looks hot, and I'm sure Jamie has noticed. It's not like he has anything else to concentrate on from the bench.

"Yeah." She opens her mouth wide with a glint of mischief in her eyes. "I was just hoping we could, you know, talk." She raises her eyebrows, and the implication is clear. She wants to talk about my proposal from the other night.

Leaning in, I whisper beside her ear, "Not here." Catching her eye, I point at the other students already taking notice of our closeness. As I wrap my hands around her slim midriff, her smooth skin pebbles under my touch.

"What the hell are you doing?" she screeches, trying to swat me away.

"Relax, Boo. Just taking you somewhere more private." I lift her, carrying her toward the large concrete tunnel leading to the locker room. The game is over, but the team is still celebrating, so it's as private and quiet as we will get tonight, and this is something we need to talk about now. I can't have her thinking anymore about the bet and putting herself off the idea of fake dating again.

She lets out a few disgruntled breaths as I gently place her on the ground in the tunnel. Red-faced and a little flustered, she adjusts her outfit to make sure she looks okay. "What's up?" I ask, watching the space between that shirt and her jeans a little too closely.

"The bet. It's real, isn't it?" Her eyes dart in every direction, never landing on me.

I nod slowly, giving her time to register the movement. "Yes. I don't lie. I was a Boy Scout." I raise my hand in a three-finger salute, and she rolls her eyes, lolling her head back to rest on the concrete wall. "Honestly, I wouldn't have bothered you if the bet wasn't real."

"Why do you want to do it?"

"Fake date?" I ask, and she nods. Fair question, one I thought I answered before, but I'll reiterate. "The money. It could change my family's life."

"Aren't you already committed to a full-ride scholarship at St. Michael's?"

My eyebrows lift. "Keeping tabs on me, Sanderson?"

She crosses her arms, and her hip pops, showcasing more of her stomach. Focus, Zach. Eyes on hers. "It's hard not to when it's rammed down my throat on a daily basis. My family has a building named after them there. I'll be going there too, whether I like it or not."

"Great," I drawl. "Happy to know there will be a friendly face," I say through gritted teeth, slightly annoyed anyone from this life might be there when I move on. I wanted a fresh start for Tiffany, Ella, and me, but that's hard to do when there are strings of the past tying me down. At least it's a big campus; the likelihood of seeing her would be minimal. "St. Michael's is still a year away, and any endorsement deals probably won't come through until I'm a sophomore. Hard to believe, but I could use some of that cash now. Lord knows I'll use it on something worthy instead of the stupid shit Jamie would buy."

"So that's it? It's all about the money to you?"

I purse my lips, contemplating for a moment. "And knocking those assholes down a peg or two."

"But they're your teammates."

"And they'll still be my teammates when we win this bet. Doesn't mean they don't need a reality check every now and again and to be reminded that money doesn't buy you everything." My gaze drifts down her lithe body, noting the curves at her hips and chest.

Biting her bottom lip, she closes her eyes. "I want in," she blurts, opening her eyes.

"Say that again?"

"I want to fake date you." Her words come out, but my brain is too busy having a mild explosion to take them in. Is she actually agreeing to this? To not only help herself but to help me.

"What made you change your mind?"

Her head turns, and she watches the team celebrate their win on the field. No doubt, Jamie is there in the center, lapping up all the attention even though he didn't play in a second of the game. She huffs out a saddened breath. "I just don't want Jamie to win. He doesn't deserve to treat me like a piece of shit and then get paid for it. He's like my parents. They all treat me like a commodity, and I'm tired of it."

"Isn't me asking you to fake date me also treating you like a commodity?" She whips her head back in my direction.

"No. You're the only person who's spoken to me like an adult capable of making her own decisions. You asked me what I wanted and waited for me to decide for myself. You didn't tell me what I was going to do."

I remain quiet, watching this girl I've never taken much notice of before, and realize just how cracked and broken she is. She's good at putting on a front and trying to convince people she's the strong, bitchy type, but the fa?ade is slowly cracking, and Jamie has a lot to do with it.

"I also hate how the school has painted me as a loser and are treating me like a game. I'm more than a stupid bet to be won. I'm not losing this time. I'm going to win, and I'll win with you."

A smile breaks across my face. "Oh, Boo. I can give you that. You know I always play to win." I hold out my bloodied hand wrapped in athletic tape. "You in?" She studies my hand, then shakes it firmly without another thought.

Voices start to echo down the tunnel. Team celebrations must have finished, and they're heading to the locker room. "You sure you want to do this?" I lean in, asking on a whisper.

Honey nods. "I've never wanted anything more in my life."

"Well, then, let's start sowing the seeds." I cup her slightly chubby cheeks in my hands and lean in until her back is flush against the concrete wall.

Her lips part as she grips my wrists, bracing herself for what I have in store. When I hear the footfalls, I do it. I plant my mouth on hers, kissing her full lips hard, holding myself in place.

Her body stiffens, and she lets out a slightly disgruntled groan. I should have warned her, and I'm sure she'll yell at me later, but we didn't have time.

The voices become clear, and her stiffened body softens, her fingernails stop pressing into my skin, and her head tilts, giving me a little more access to deepen the kiss. I don't, though. I keep my composure because I can't risk her trying to kick me in the balls as the team walks past. That would probably give the game away.

Still caressing her cheek with my thumb, I hold back smiling into the kiss when I hear the slowing pace of the football team.

"Busted." Scott whistles. Other players scoff and jeer, probably surprised to find me in a clinch, let alone with the hottest and richest girl in the school.

I drop my hips, forcing the padding I'm wearing to relax against Honey's body to give them a little show. Her body feels soft against my palms, and she releases a little whimper against my mouth. Swallowing it up, I trace her lips with mine, coaxing her chin to tilt up and give me better access.

After the first set of teammates walks past, I pull away enough to whisper against her lips, "Just go with it, Boo." Then I capture her mouth once more; her strawberry gloss tickles my tastebuds, and I kind of want more of it. I don't make a habit of kissing girls I haven't taken out on a date first, but something about kissing Honey in front of all these assholes is giving me a burning feeling in my stomach. It's like we're doing something naughty and wicked.

Honey grapples my jersey, trying to pull at the fabric, but it's too stretched by the padding underneath. "Call me boo one more time, and I'll bite your balls off," she says, gently biting down on my bottom lip.

"Noted," I husk out before kissing her again.

"What the …?"

A low, drawn-out whistle skitters in the air. "Jamie, it looks like your ex is making a point," Brett says, and the corner of my lips pull into a grin. The words incite Honey, and she jerks me closer, pushing our hips together, and her lips meld against mine.

"Whatever." Jamie's annoyed response is quiet, but his footsteps are fast as he walks past us.

When the football players have disappeared and all I can hear is the squelching of our kiss, I pull away with a stupid grin sprawled across my face. I can't believe we're doing this, and Honey agreed to it. By the end of the semester, I will be thousands of dollars richer, and my family will be in a little less trouble.

"Next time, would you mind giving me a warning before you eat my face off," Honey mumbles, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. I sputter out a laugh because that's not the usual response I get after rocking a girl's world, but hey, I've never dated rich, so I don't know how they react.

"Sure thing, Sunshine." She raises an arrogant brow, and I shrug. "If you won't let me call you Boo, I need to find a nickname that sticks."

Honey's palms widen over my shoulder pads as she tilts her head and her face gets closer to mine again. "Or you could just call me Honey like everyone else. It's already my nickname, after all."

I purse my lips, trying to hide my amusement. "Nah, Honey is too generic, and besides, Jamie used it." I squeeze her hips for emphasis. "If you were really my girl, we'd have our own unique thing. I'll work on it." My eyes track down to the bright-green fabric covering her chest. "We also need to get you a new jersey. My girl wouldn't be walking around with a mediocre, second-string player's jersey on. She'd be wearing mine."

"Whatever." She shakes her head, pushing me away so she can rummage through her Chanel bag. I know it's Chanel because it looks like the fake one Tiffany bought at the mall last year. She clutches that thing like it's the key to Ella's happiness. I'm looking forward to the day I can buy her a real one. She deserves it.

Honey pulls out a small brown envelope and shoves it against my chest. "Here's the ten grand. Let's win this bet," she says with a wry smile on her face.

I smile back, clutching the envelope as though my life depends on it. It kind of does. "Sure thing, Chicken Wing."

Grunting, she pushes off the concrete wall. "Put Chicken Wing in the same category as Boo. Meet me outside at the bleachers on Monday during lunch to talk this through." She saunters off, strutting with more confidence than I've seen from her for at least the last month.

"Wait. I need your number." Honey flicks her butterscotch hair over her shoulder and smirks.

"Ask Mike. He'll give it to you." She turns around, walking away, leaving me with a wad of cash and a dumbfounded smile. I can't believe she's agreed to do this. Maybe things are looking up for the Evans family.

I spin on my heel with a little extra swag in my step because I never thought this would go to plan. As I head to my locker, I'm met with a deafening silence and shocked stares from the rest of the team. Not the usual reception I get when we've just won, but I know why. I've ruined their little bet.

"What's up, guys?" I raise my chin, keeping my lips straight while I pretend nothing strange happened.

Brett waltzes over with a bitter laugh before pushing my chest. "What the hell, man?" His jaw tightens, and there's a flash of anger in his eyes. "When did you put the moves on Honey? Didn't you know we had a bet?"

I grin back, looking between Kyle, Jamie, Connor, and Brett. "Of course I knew about it." Then I reach into the back of my pads, throwing down the brown envelope onto the central wooden bench. "I want in." I stare directly at Jamie as I speak, and his eye twitches and his chest rises.

Jamie steps toward me. "You really think you can keep Honey's attention for longer than five minutes?"

Keeping a straight face, I reply, "I already have. Just because you had trouble captivating her attention for longer than a few seconds doesn't mean I have the same problem." I glance down at his football pants to make sure he gets the innuendo. Rich boys can be a little slow, after all. "Now, will you let me in on this bet or not?"

"Whoa, what, wait. That's not fair." Brett raises his hand, pointing at me. "He's already got something going on with Honey. That'll make it easier for him to ask her out on a date if he hasn't already."

Jamie keeps his eyes homed in on me with anger still burning behind them. "Let him join the bet. We'll up the ante, and having him in will make it interesting. He may have kissed her once, but I know Honey, she doesn't keep strays. She'll get bored when she realizes how little her daddy cares that she's dating him. Besides, Brett, you've got hometeam advantage. Once she's through with Scholarship Kid, she'll be begging for something familiar. Something more like me."

I try to keep a straight face. Brett's as dumb as a box of rocks and doesn't see how this plays to Jamie's advantage. Something familiar? Yeah, Jamie thinks Honey will crawl back to him once she's done with me. I may not know Honey that well, but if her impassioned speech earlier was anything to go by, she seemed pretty ticked off at the people around her.

"If you're so sure, then it should be easy for you to take my money." I goad the room. "Do you know how hard I had to work to get that ten grand? Won't it feel good to watch me flitter it away on something so frivolous when I could have used it on something more important?"

Eyes connect around the room in an invisible conversation I'm not invited to. They're deliberating, but after stoking the fire with Jamie, I know I'm in.

Jamie leans forward, grabs the envelope, and opens it, counting to make sure I'm good for the money. Dick. He shoves the envelope in his bag before stating, "Okay, New rules. Honey is fair game the rest of the season. Whoever is dating her by the end of our run, which should be until we win the championships —" The team cheer at that. "Will win the full fifty thousand dollars. If none of you are dating her, then I get the money."

"Whoa, whoa, wait." Brett raises his hand. "Before, it was just one date for ten thousand. Now I have to actually get her to date me?"

Jamie raises a finger to his temple, tapping it ever so slightly. "Think it through, my man. You have to be dating her by the end of the season, not the whole time."

And there it is. Jamie giving way for another unfair advantage that Brett is too dumb to see. As Brett stands there, Jamie raises his eyebrows in my direction, helping him figure it out. When it finally clicks that none of them think I can keep Honey interested for that long, Brett grins widely. "Nah, you're right. Let's do this. You in, Scholarship?"

With pursed lips, I nod and hold out my hand. "Sounds good." Putting up with Honey for the football season can't be that bad since I'll be busy for most of it anyway. "Good luck, fellas." While shaking on it with the rest of the guys, the whole room mutters and laughs, wondering who will win this bet. Too bad they're all too dumb to see the whole thing is fixed.

"Dude, you might want to wipe that smile off your face." Mike points to my lips, shaking his head. When I swipe my hand across my mouth, I laugh at the red stains on my palm. Well, I'll be damned; I had Honey's lipstick all over my face while talking to Jamie. No wonder he was so pissy and hellbent on bringing me down.

I'm the last person in the locker room by the time I've finished changing. Everyone else has made their way to some cheerleader's house for an after-party. I wasn't invited, but it wasn't like I'd attend. It's late, and I've got to get home to Tiff and Ella.

I still feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins when I think about tonight, and it's not just because we won against one of our biggest rivals. It's because Honey did something selfless and agreed to help me. Granted, she'll be getting some revenge and cash out of this, but winning twenty-five grand will mean so much more to me.

Walking out to the parking lot, I already know I will see Mike before he clasps my shoulder.

"Hey." Typical Mike. Always there waiting to offer me a ride even though he knows I'll say no. But tonight might be the exception when I see the pensive and thoughtful look on his face. Tonight, I might actually say yes to his ride. "Please tell me you and Honey have some kind of deal, and I'm not going to have to punch you in the face for entering that stupid bet."

Slapping his shoulder, I laugh and shake my head. "You've got nothing to worry about. Come on, let me explain in the car."

"The car?" he asks with raised brows.

"Yeah, take me home, Princess."

Mike smirks, using his hand on my shoulder to lead me to his car, and I follow, ready to explain everything.