Single And In Love With My Fake Boyfriend (Single Girls Club #1)

Chapter Five

Callie

My heart hasn’t stopped pounding since I left my house this morning and got in my car. I’ve memorized the questions I plan to ask Lincoln a hundred times, but it seems my brain short-circuits every time I practice them. And then I feel pathetic because I’m not the same fifteen-year-old invisible girl with a massive crush on the popular quarterback. I’m an adult now, and a professional. I should be able to interview the guy without having a stroke. And considering he doesn’t even remember me, there’s no reason for me to be this nervous. I should treat him like I would treat any other interviewee.

With a nod, I pull into the parking lot of the café Lincoln and I are set to meet at. Someone from his team set up the interview here. It’s usually not busy this early in the morning, so hopefully we’ll be able to get the interview done as swiftly as possible.

After getting out of my car, I glance down at the white blouse and black skirt I’m wearing. Did I dress too plainly? Too boring? I bet I could get lost in the crowd and no one would find me. Certainly not the most eligible bachelor of the year.

I shake my head again and berate myself. Seriously . He doesn’t know who I am. As if he’ll pay attention to what I’m wearing.

If I don’t get my butt in the café soon, I’ll be late for the interview and Becca will murder me. I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths, trying to calm my heart that is once again pounding. He’s just a guy. Just a normal guy sitting at a café and enjoying his life.

I can do this.

I close my fingers around the door handle and pull the door open. A small bell rings throughout the café. My eyes immediately search the area for the familiar light brown hair, and then I spot someone sitting in the back wearing a gray cap. That must be him.

Shoving away the nervous butterflies trying to invade my stomach, I tighten my hold on my bag and make my way over to him. He’s chewing on a muffin, and as soon as he notices me, he drops the muffin and stands, holding his hand out to me with a smile. “You must be Callie Richards.” He blinks at me. “We bumped into each other at Spring Falls Gardens, didn’t we?”

“Yes—hi,” I stammer as I shake his hand, then take another deep breath. “I mean, hello. Good morning, how are you?”

With a girl-melting smile, he gestures for me to join him. “I’m great, thanks. How are you?” He removes his cap and places it on the table. Now his blue eyes are no longer shadowed and they shine bright in the strong café light.

“I’m great, too,” I say, then start unloading all of my things. “Should we start?”

“Would you like to order something first?” he asks.

If I would attempt to put anything down my throat, I’m sure it’ll just make its way back up.

“No, thanks.” I put on a large smile, tucking my hair behind my ear with a shaky hand. “Are you ready to begin?”

He watches me for a few seconds, his eyes narrowing. “I can’t help but feel like I know you from somewhere. You look very familiar.”

I nervously play with my voice recorder. “Oh, we actually went to school together.”

His brows shoot up. “Elementary school? Middle school?”

“High school.”

His brows furrow. “High school?” I can see the thoughts flitting across his face. High school wasn’t that long ago. Surely he would remember me.

I’m not about to tell him he doesn’t remember me because I was invisible to him for four years, or that I had a massive crush on him, so I just force a smile and say, “So much has happened since then, huh? With your booming football career and everything…”

“Did we have any classes together?”

“What? Uh, yeah. Of course.”

He waits patiently, like he actually wants me to tell him what classes we shared.

“Uh…I sat behind you in bio class in sophomore year,” I tell him. And spent a good chunk of it obsessing over his perfect hair.

He frowns. “Sorry, I don’t remember you. I guess I was distracted with football.” He laughs like he’s embarrassed. “I was under so much pressure back then.”

I clear my throat. “Right. Speaking of pressure…”

I start asking him questions about his football career. What got him into football, what high school and college football was like, and what it was like when he made the professional team. Lincoln’s eyes light up as he tells me his story. It’s obvious he loves football very much. He doesn’t care much about the fame and glory. He really is living his dream.

“That’s amazing,” I say with a grin. “I know people all over the world understand how much this means to you.”

I start to delve a little deeper, asking him more personal questions and trying to discover who Lincoln Walker really is. It’s not long before he opens up and informs me of some of the struggles he went through. Like the pressure he mentioned earlier. He didn’t want to disappoint his coach, his team, his parents, or his school.

“Sometimes I wondered if they liked me for me or if they just liked the fact that I was a good quarterback,” he admits. “I started doubting a lot of things, like whether my friends were my true friends or if I even enjoyed the sport. Was I only doing it to please other people? And then I wondered what would happen if I injured myself and could no longer play, or if a new kid would try out for the team and be better than me. Would everyone toss me away like an old, ratty T-shirt?”

I find myself leaning closer to him, intrigued to hear more.

“But then I told myself it didn’t matter what anyone else thought. All that mattered was what I thought. What I felt . And I knew that I loved the sport and wouldn’t have wanted to give it up for anything. Once I had that mindset, I started to enjoy myself more. Of course I still experienced self-doubt from time to time, but I was able to work through it.”

My lips lift into a smile at how raw and open he is. The readers will gobble this up, but I don’t care about that. I love that I’ve gotten to know this side of him. In high school, he always seemed so cool and confident. But he went through many of the things I went through as well, like any teenager.

I wish I could delve even deeper, but the last thing I want is to make him uncomfortable. So I say, “Thanks so much for telling me your story. Now, if it’s okay with you, can we discuss the Celebrity Vibe article that named you the most eligible bachelor of the year?”

For a moment, I swear I see something pass over his face. Maybe unease? As if he’s not thrilled about his new title. But the expression is gone so fast I wonder if I imagined it.

He gives me a million-watt smile and says, “Sure, we can discuss it. I’m sure readers would rather hear about this than my football career.”

I laugh nervously and run my fingers through my hair. “Don’t be so sure about that.” I clear my throat again. “So what was your first reaction when you found out you were named the most eligible bachelor of the year?”

“That my mom would be a very happy woman,” he says with a laugh.

“Oh? Does she want you to settle down?”

He holds out his hands. “She wants to see me happy with a woman, for sure. And she always tells me she wants grandchildren one day.”

“You’re still young, though. There’s time to worry about that later, no?”

He chuckles again. “Try telling that to my mom.”

“Okay, so we know how your mother reacted. How did you, Lincoln Walker, react?”

He thinks about it for a few seconds before shrugging. “I guess it’s cool.”

I try not to frown. He guesses it’s cool? That’s not exactly the kind of response women all over the world would expect. He’s not happy about it? I mean, women will now throw themselves at him, won’t they?

He must see my expression because he quickly says, “I mean, I’m honored. I know it’s not easy making the list, and I appreciate that they put me on it.”

“Are you hoping this will help you find the woman of your dreams?” I ask.

He’s once again quiet for a bit before saying, “If I meet the right woman due to the list, I would be thankful for that.”

“So…you’re waiting for the right woman?” I ask.

“Aren’t we all?” he says.

“You’re only twenty-two. Most guys your age, uh…”

“Just want to have fun?”

I nod.

He shakes his head. “I’m not like that. I want…” He puffs out his cheeks. “I want someone special, you know? Someone who…” He shakes his head. “I don’t know if I can explain it.”

“Someone who understands you in a way no one else does?” I offer.

He nods. “Yeah. Someone I can talk to about anything. Someone who appreciates me for who I am, not what I can do.”

I nod. I totally get what he means. He’s a famous quarterback. He doesn’t want a woman who only wants him because of his accomplishments or his fame. He wants someone who would love and appreciate him for him .

I give him an encouraging smile. “I know she’s out there. And she’ll pop into your life at the right time.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“Yeah.”

“So you believe in destiny and fate and soulmates?”

I tuck some more hair behind my ear. “Yeah. Is that silly?”

He shakes his head. “No, I think that’s special. I wish I believed that, too.”

My face heats up. “Well, whether you believe it or not, it’ll still happen,” I promise him.

He laughs softly. “Is that so?”

“Yes.”

He laughs again.

We’re both quiet.

He gives me that handsome smile.

We’re still quiet.

“Uh…is there anything else you’d like to ask me?” he says.

I blink. “What? Uh…let me see.” I start shuffling through my papers. I realize there was a question or two I forgot to ask him, so I ask him those and then we’re done.

“Thanks.” I hold out my hand.

“It was my pleasure.” He shakes my hand with another charismatic smile. “You were great. I felt very comfortable with you.”

“Really? I mean, thanks. You were great, too.”

“Callie Richards. I’ll have to check the yearbook. And you can friend me on social media.”

“Cool. Good luck with your career.” I stand and gather my things. “I know you’ll continue being great. And…” I wink. “The right woman is just around the corner. I can feel it.”

A look of hope passes over his face. He nods. “Thanks.”

He gives me another smile before turning to walk away. My heart has settled somewhat because I felt very at ease with Lincoln, but there are some flutters in my stomach because…well, he was so open and…sweet. The kind of guy who—

No. I can’t have a crush on him again.

I spin around to wait in line for a Danish and coffee because I actually have an appetite, and I slam right into Lincoln. He stands there, putting all of his weight on one foot as he scrolls through his phone. He loses his balance along with me and we crash to the floor, our limbs getting tangled in one another’s.

His face is close to mine. Only a few inches away. And his lips are…

“Sorry,” I stammer as I try to slide out from underneath him. But my legs are trapped under his.

He blinks and shakes his head. “Yeah, sorry. I…” He quickly yanks himself off me. “Are you okay?” He holds his hand out to me.

With my cheeks and neck on fire, I accept his hand and let him help me up. “I didn’t realize you were standing there. I’m such a klutz.”

“You’re good,” he assures me. “It’s my bad. I shouldn’t have been blocking you like that.”

My hair is probably a mess. I pat it down to try to make it look decent, but I’m sure it’s a lost cause.

“Are you okay, Callie?” he asks.

“Totally.” I force a smile, even though I’m mortified. “Are you?”

He flashes me a grin. “Perfect. You have a ride home?”

“Yeah, I drove.”

“Cool. Thanks for the wonderful interview. And I’m sorry about the…”

“It’s completely fine.” I force another smile. “I’ll, uh, see you around.”

With a nod, he places his cap low on his head, offers me another smile, then walks out of the café.

After ordering a Danish and coffee, I leave the café and look around the area. Maybe hoping to see Lincoln again? But that’s ridiculous. I doubt I’ll ever interact with him again.