Fake Game (The System #3)

Chapter Eleven

ELEVEN

JACKSON

MOM: Don’t forget your date tonight

MOM: It’s at Chá House.

MOM: Jackson?

MOM: ??

My phone begins to buzz with an incoming call, and I quickly wipe my hands on a towel before swiping it open. I tuck it between my ear and shoulder as I crack open another egg and separate the whites into the clear bowl before me.

“Morning, I saw your texts. I haven’t forgotten.”

“Then why didn’t you respond?”

“Because I’m cooking.”

She pauses before letting out a resigned sigh. “All right. What are you making?”

“Soufflé pancakes.”

“I love those!” My little sister’s voice trills through the phone. “Why can’t you come home and make some for me?”

“Angela.” I recognize my mother’s warning tone. “ Nei jou gen mut? Why aren’t you dressed yet?”

“I can’t find my music book.”

“I already packed it in your bag. Now, go put your dress on. I won’t have you be late.”

I laugh to myself as I begin to beat the egg whites to a stiff peak. I haven’t lived at home since the day I left for college, but I still miss being around my family. Thankfully, they only live an hour away, so I’m able to visit them often. I can’t imagine living any farther from them—I don’t know how Parker does it with his family in England most of the year.

“How are the dates going? I think tonight will be a good one. Everyone at your father’s hospital says she’s lovely and you know she comes from a good family.”

The question catches me off guard and a groan escapes my lips in the distraction.

She turns that warning tone over to me. “Jackson.”

“They’re going fine.” It’s not a complete lie. The dates aren’t horrible, and the women are fine…just not to my taste.

“Anyone promising?”

“Not really.”

I can hear the disappointment in her long, heavy sigh.

“Good morning.”

I spin around to find Deer strolling leisurely into the kitchen, her hair perfectly curled and her makeup back in place. There isn’t a trace of the shadows that marred her features last night—no hint of the demons lurking beneath the surface. They’ve been successfully covered with layers of sparkly pink blush.

She hops onto a bar stool with a smile, and I just frown. It’s clear she is going to pretend like last night never happened.

My gut roils with a low flame.

“Jackson?”

Fuck. My mom.

“Yeah?”

“Who was that? Stephanie?”

My eyes skate over the sexy spitfire who most certainly is not my roommate’s girlfriend. The woman I held in my arms last night. The same woman I woke up dreaming about with my cock stiff as hell.

“Uh, yeah. I’m making everyone breakfast, so…”

“Okay, okay. I’ll let you go. Just promise me you’ll give the girl tonight a proper chance. It’s important to your baba that you don’t mess this one up.”

“I promise. Bye.”

“Bye.”

I toss my phone onto the marble counter and pop an espresso pod into the machine. I can feel Deer’s eyes on me, tracking my every movement.

The fuck am I supposed to say to her?

“Whatcha making?”

“Pancakes.”

She hums in approval. “Can you make mine with strawberries?”

I glance at her over my shoulder. “It doesn’t mix in well with the soufflé mixture.”

“Really?” She gives a dramatic pout, drawing my attention to her lower lip. “That sucks.”

I can think of something I want her to suck.

Fuck.

No.

I drag my eyes away and turn my head back so she doesn’t fill my vision anymore.

This is not cool.

I reach into the fridge and grab the small carton of strawberry milk I bought yesterday, opening and pouring it into a glass mug before dumping the fresh espresso in. I take a metal straw to swirl everything together and then slide the glass across the island to Deer, avoiding any direct eye contact.

“Here.”

She blinks at the glass for a second before taking it between her hands. “How’d you know I liked my coffee like this?”

I shrug, turning back to pop a new pod into the coffee machine. “You posted about it.”

She chuckles something that sounds a lot like the word “fanboy” under her breath. I’m tempted to look at her, to see what expression she is wearing, but I stop myself. I’m digging myself into a hole, and I need to stop before it becomes too deep and I can’t escape.

The sound of the metal straw clinking around the glass echoes into the silence, and I throw my focus into the pancakes, making sure they are perfect, bouncy circles.

Bouncy, like her—

God-fucking-dammit.

“Tastes good.”

The corner of my mouth ticks up at her approval.

I flip the first pancake—arguably, always the worst one—onto a plate and set it aside for myself before starting on the second one. While it cooks, I grab some raspberries out of the fridge and drop them in a saucer with some sugar and lemon juice. The second pancake looks perfect, so I plop it onto a new plate and drizzle the raspberry coulee on top with a spray of whipped cream.

I slide the dish over to Deer, who shoots her hand out to curl around mine before I have a chance to let go. Her soft skin teases against my own, and it forces my gaze to meet hers.

“Stop. This is for me?” There’s a tone of incredulity that matches the wide saucer look of her eyes.

“We don’t have strawberries.”

“I—” Her gaze softens. “Thank you. It looks pretty.”

She releases my hand and picks up her fork and knife, but I remain glued in my position as I watch her cut a small triangle and pop it in her mouth. Deer squeezes her eyes and lets out a small moan, curling her hand under her chin. “Oh my Gods, that’s amazing.” She quickly cuts another piece and moans in pleasure as she chews on it.

I hate everything.

I turn around, readjusting my twitching dick in my sweatpants.

“This is the best thing I’ve had in my mouth. It’s like an orgasmic cloud.”

I think she’s actually trying to kill me. Why does she have to talk like that? It’s doing nothing to help my situation.

I busy myself with the next pancake, but my foot starts tapping against the tiles as she continues to moan happily behind me.

“How do you cook so well?”

“My mom taught me.”

“Damn, you have to give her my thanks. I’d kill to have this every day. You’re gonna make someone a very happy girlfriend someday.”

There’s the word again.

Girlfriend.

I work my jaw back and forth as a scene forms in my mind—one of a woman smiling up at me as I bring her breakfast in bed. Her eyes are a shining blue and her lips a soft pink that matches the color of her hair.

“Something smells good.” Aleks’ voice pulls me out of my deluded daydream, reminding me to flip my pancake before it burns. “I’ll take mine with chocolate chips, chef.”

“I’m not taking requests.” I turn and glare at Aleks as he rounds the corner and walks towards the kitchen, yawning.

“Come on, you always make mine with chocolate chips. Don’t be a bitch, dude.”

Aleks claps me on the shoulder, almost making me drop my pancake, before he steals the small mug filled with espresso from the machine.

“That’s mine,” I growl.

“You going to give me chocolate chips?” He raises a brow in challenge, holding the cup in front of his lips. A smirk curls at the corner of his mouth.

“You don’t even like black coffee.”

“I don’t like plain pancakes either.”

He sticks his tongue out, hovering the tip over my precious espresso. My jaw locks and I let out a deep sigh through my nose before opening the cabinet and aggressively grabbing the packet of chocolate chips.

“Knew you loved me.” He tosses me a shit-eating grin, placing my mug next to the stovetop.

“Fuck off.” I scoop the batter into the skillet, forming two pancakes, and sprinkle them with some of the chocolate chips. I down my espresso while I wait for them to cook, letting the bitterness burn my tongue.

“Here you go, princess.”

I slide the piping hot pancakes to my annoying roommate, using just enough force that he has to make a conscious effort to stop them from toppling off the island and onto his sweatpants. He looks up at me and pauses for a brief second before tilting his head to the side slightly.

“What about my chocolate syrup?”

I run my tongue over my teeth before grabbing the syrup from the fridge and slapping it onto the marble.

“You know, he’s a big softie,” Aleks whispers to Deer as he drenches his pancakes in syrup. “Looks like he’s going to rip your head off, but really, he just wants a little tender loving.”

“Oh, I know.” She nods in agreement.

I cock my head and give them the middle finger with a tight smile before turning back to grab my pancakes.

“Did you know he also cooks for Parker all the time? Makes sure he eats and stays alive. Jackson’s almost as much of a mother hen as Sydney is.”

“Keep spewing shit and I’ll put hair remover in your shampoo.”

“Hey, I’m just improving your reputation, man.”

“My reputation is fine.” I take a seat—reluctantly—next to Aleks and reach across him for the whipped cream. It takes practiced patience to not hit him with the can, maybe knock some sense into him.

“I mean, your rep could be better.” Deer sucks on her strawberry coffee. “Syd’s been worried.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s nervous you’re gonna snap on one of these dates. Ya know, like at some point you’ll just get so sick of it, and some poor girl will end up crying in the middle of a restaurant and she’ll have to chase down the media to kill it.”

“This dude? Snap?” Aleks snorts. “Never. Jackson doesn’t lose control.”

I grunt in agreement, chewing down a piece of pancake.

“Oh, come on. No one’s in control all the time.”

“I’ve known him since we were in high school.” Aleks points his knife in my direction. “He’s a control master, Deer. Disciplined to the bone. Wakes up at 6 a.m. for the gym every day like the good little gym bro he is.”

“Gods. No wonder he acts like he has a stick up his ass sometimes,” she mutters under her breath.

“No, I don’t.”

“Sure,” she drawls, widening her eyes all doe-like as she daintily finishes off the last raspberry on her plate. “All that stress is what jacks up your muscles.”

“Trust me, I have plenty of methods to relieve my stress other than the gym, Sparkles.”

“And plenty of screaming women to attest to that,” Aleks chimes in. “Actually, maybe not screaming, considering your methods.”

Deer’s grip on her fork loosens as a pink flush breaks out on her neck.

Satisfaction fills me at seeing her a little off-kilter. It is so hard to break through that perfectly crafted happy-go-lucky mask she always wears.

I push off the counter and grab her empty plate along with my own, giving her a sharklike grin as I meet her gaze. “I’ll spare the details for your delicate ears. Not exactly morning appropriate.”

She blinks, those long lashes fluttering against her cheeks before a confident laugh leaves her pouty lips. “You think someone who looks like me is vanilla?” Deer hops off her stool and tosses a lock of hair over her shoulder, pure challenge in her eyes. “Babes, I’ve tried all the flavors in the candy shop.” Without another word, she turns on her heels and disappears back to my bedroom.

“Think she’s bluffing?” Aleks asks, sidling up beside me to drop his plate in the dishwasher.

I glance over my shoulder at the empty hallway, a dark curiosity weaving its way through me.

“Guess we’ll have to see.”