Fake Dating the Defenseman Next Door (Soltero Beach Scorpions Hockey #1)

15. Angela

fifteen

Angela

I go still, all the heat building up between us ices over as my hands tighten on Diego’s impressive, super-toned shoulders and my gaze locks on his.

“W-what?” I splutter.

His honey-colored eyes darken a shade closer to whiskey, and he studies my face.

“You heard me. I liked you then. I like you still. There’s no reason this can’t be the real deal, right? We don’t have to turn up at your reunion as a fake couple when we can be a real one.”

“Um,” I press his shoulders, loosening my thigh-grip on his waist and slide to the floor. Pressing my lips together, I woodenly walk to the kitchen counter and automatically check on the dough I started earlier and the second one I’d just made. Whatever I thought would come of playing pretend with my old schoolgirl crush, I hadn’t expected any confusing feelings to actually spring up. It complicates everything.

“Angie?” he asks, concern lacing his tone.

“No,” I choke out.

“No?”

“No,” I say again, firmly.

His brow creases. “Why not?”

There’s a lump in my throat I fight hard to swallow down as I turn to face him. “Because your life is here and mine isn’t. Unlike the hoards of other women that flock to this town, I didn’t turn up here hunting for a husband. I came to help halmeoni and go to my high school reunion. I’m nearly done with both of those things, and then I’m leaving.”

“To go where?”

“I don’t know. Los Angeles, maybe.” Even to my own ears, I sound uncertain. “I haven’t had time to think it through.”

“That’s not that far.”

“It’s two hours away. We’d hardly see each other. Why can’t we enjoy this for what it is?”

Diego’s mouth flattens. “What is it, then?”

“I thought it was… a bit of fun.” I wince. Even to my own ears, it sounds hollow. “But I can see now that us pretending to be together is confusing things.”

“Oh, no. I understand perfectly.”

“You do?” I look up, hopeful.

“You want to keep things casual. Non-committal.”

“Yes!” My shoulders sag with relief as I tip the first dough I’d made out onto the lightly floured countertop. “A straightforward, uncomplicated, mutually beneficial arrangement. Donuts for a date, right?”

“With a bit of sex on the side?” he asks, blandly.

Something in his tone has me lifting my gaze and a slither of unease slides under my skin. “It’s not a requirement,” I answer carefully.

“No, just a bit of fun. As you said.” Diego steps back, rounds the countertop. “After all, fun and games is what I do best, right?”

“Right.”

He nods, smiling slightly. But I note that it doesn’t reach his eyes, and it does nothing to soothe the wariness arising in me. I’ve said or done something wrong, but I’m not sure what.

“Great. I’m gonna shower, then I’ll come back and help you with the rest of this.”

I watch him walk off, back straight and muscles tense. As my hands manipulate the dough in easy, practiced movements, my stomach twists into a knot.

And I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve made a mistake.

“You said what ?!” Nina chokes on one of the donuts I’d freshly rolled in sugar just hours earlier in Diego’s condo. She swallows hard while Tiffany scrolls through social media on her cell phone, mouth hanging open.

“Let me get this straight. This guy—” Tiffany’s tone is incredulous as she spins her phone camera around and shows me the ‘Gram image he’d posted of us from our date. “—Diego muthapuckin’ ‘Big D’ De La Cruz himself whom you swooned over for approximately forever—rocked your world for hours on end.”

Blushing, I simply nod staring across the beach to the rolling waves.

“And he confessed to having feelings for you after the bow-chicka-bow-wow—”

“—A crush,” I correct.

“A crush which you also have on him,” Solymar adds, plucking another donut hole from the selection I’d brought.

Tiffany and Nina exchange a look.

“A dude who looks like this, ” Tiffany emphasizes, flipping her phone over and shoving the photograph of Diego’s nude body in creatively positioned display in the spread of a glossy sports magazine’s body appreciation issue and shoving it in my face. “Who you say is sweet and kind and funny told you he wanted to dial up your fake dating to real-life dating, and you told him no?! ”

Nina cranes her neck to look at the screen while she zips up her wetsuit and lets out a low whistle. “Two questions. One, do you have a magical pussy? And two, why on earth did you say no? That is some spank bank material right there.”

“Nina!” I scold.

She shrugs. “Sorry, not sorry. But honey, if you don’t want him, someone else will.”

My mouth tilts in a wobbly smile. “That’s sort of my point. We’re different people. He’s this life-of-the-party, front-and-center popular jock. And not just on a local scale. On a global scale. I’m happy sticking to the sidelines, working in the bakery solo before the sun even rises. I like my life and my social circle tighter, quieter than he does. And I’m leaving to set up shop elsewhere.”

I think. I think I’m leaving. But isn’t leaving yet another concession I’m making to the people in this town who never wanted me here in the first place?

Nina holds up her hand and starts counting off on her fingers. “One, the town isn’t the problem here. Grant Reed is. You didn’t love the experience you had growing up here, and that’s fair enough. Two, you don’t have to be same. Opposites attract all the time. It’s a balance thing. And three, you don’t even know where you’re headed next. Why can’t it be here?”

Solymar squeezes my hand. “Wanting a quieter life doesn’t mean living a small life. You deserve to live the life you want and to experience big love, Angie. The kind that’s deep, and steady, and exhilarating.”

“Wouldn’t I always be competing for his attention? Wouldn’t I always be worried that something shinier, prettier, and more interesting would come wandering in? And when it does, wouldn’t I be left behind again? Wouldn’t I be alone like I was when my mom left with her rich, attractive husband that she found here?”

I grab my surfboard and survey the crowd swarming the sandy beach stretching out before us. Beyond lies the water, glistening in the afternoon sun. Beckoning me, as it always has, to seek refuge and solace in the waves. Surfing these waters always did something for my soul. That summer, learning to surf and finding purpose in the back room of my grandma’s donut shop is what saved me from crumbling.

Without warning, six arms wrap around me, clutching me tight in a group hug as I squeeze my eyes shut and fight back the tears that threaten to spill over.

“Honey, Diego is not your mom. Not everyone drops the people the love to chase the next shiny object they think will bring them happiness.” Tiffany’s voice is firm, her arms strong.

“We’re proof of that,” Nina says, stroking my hair softly. “You went off to make a name for yourself, we supported you from near and far, and we’re still here for you. Time and distance didn’t diminish our bond. Relationships can survive challenges—in fact, that’s how they get stronger.”

I let go of a shaky breath and hug them back. My best friends have known me all my life and seen me through the roller coaster ride of my mom’s flights of fancy. She flitted in and out of our lives, depending on whether or not she found herself a new man she was trying to hook. I tried hard not to be wounded by it, but sometimes, I wondered if there must be something inherently wrong with me.

It was hard for me to make friends. Impossible for me to attract a romantic interest. And the one time I thought I had, I’d ended up wounded from that experience too.

“I don’t know if I can trust him not to hurt me or leave me,” I whisper brokenly.

“I get it,” Tiffany says, pulling back and slamming the car door shut. “Love is scary. It makes you vulnerable.”

“What does your heart say?” Solymar asks. “Do you want to leave?”

I expel a heavy breath. “It says that he might be worth staying for.”

Nina leads the way through the parking lot and onto the sand. “Put it this way, Ang. You can leave anytime. The door is always open. But don’t you own it to yourself to be brave enough to find out if you’re right?”

Brave. The word rattles in my head as I secure the leash onto my ankle and head into the water. There was a time when the ocean scared me. When being so far off shore, knowing I was sharing the space with sharks circling below me filled me with terror. But as I splash into the water now, hissing at the chill in Pacific and feeling the thrill of knowing I’ll soon be riding a wave with that indescribable power surge beneath my feet, I realize that I’d conquered that fear. As the tide pushes and pulls my body into deeper, darker waters, I lay my board out and position myself atop it. I paddle hard, tucking into the waves and remember times when I was literally in over my head.

Is choosing to be with Diego, choosing to stay in this town, one of those times?

Or could I choose to be brave with my heart the same way I have been with my body?