Page 53 of Movers and Fakers

Hayes is quiet for a moment, and I worry that I’ve hurt him somehow, though I’m not sure what I could have said. He came up with this arrangement with the assumption that it would end.

“Tell them I turned out to be a jerk,” he says after a moment. “Say you caught me with another girl or that I stopped treating you well or broke up with you over text out of the blue.”

I turn my head toward him.

“What? I couldn’t do that.”

He turns too, meeting my gaze with a half smile.

“Sure you can. Everyone already says stuff like that about me. It doesn’t bother me. Let them hate me, and it’ll distract them for a little while from things to do with you.”

“But you train with my brother. It wouldn’t be good if he hated you.”

“It would motivate him to get better so he could beat me.”

I let out a little laugh.

“That makes no sense.”

“You’d be surprised how motivating anger can be in the ring.” His hand finds mine in the dark and squeezes. “Say whatever you need to when it’s over. In the meantime, I’ll be here for you however you need.”

Guilt pricks at my heart. So far, Hayes has overpaid me to tutor him, bought me iced coffee, new shoes, and made my family fall in love with him so much they might just forget to pester me for a while. And in return I’ve given him basically nothing but a few study tips and snarky remarks.

“Why?” I whisper. “Why would you do all of this for me?”

“You’re helping keep stalkers at bay, remember?” He smiles, running his thumb over my hand. “And, I’m having fun.”

My brain trips over the word fun. I’m not sure anyone has ever described me as fun. I can’t help but wonder when he’ll stop feeling that way. I’m not going to want to go out all of the time like he does. My life revolves around school and ballet. I doubt that our little back-and-forth can hold his attention for long. Not when he’s got every girl on campus begging for his attention.

“Can I come to your recital?” he asks when I don’t say anything. “I’d like to see you dance.”

I turn my gaze back to the stars on the ceiling.

“You don’t have to. I can tell my mom you had something on that day. She’ll understand since you didn’t know until today.”

“But if I never see you dance, how am I going to tell people years from now that I got to see you before you became a world-renowned principal dancer?” His voice takes on a faux wistful tone that draws a laugh out of me.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Mm, but I made you laugh.”

I don’t bother to stifle the smile that stretches my lips.

“Okay, you can come, but don't embarrass me. My friends insisted on coming too, and I’m worried there are going to be signs involved. Or T-shirts.” I let out an exasperated sigh. “So I don’t need more chaos.”

“I’ll do my best,” he replies, sounding far too mischievous for my liking.

I turn my head toward him again. Our gazes collide. That soft look is back in his eyes, and I don’t know what to do with it. To do with him. I’ve never had so many feelings about a person before, both good and bad.

“We should probably get up before my parents come to find us. As much as they want me to get out and live life, I don’t think they’d appreciate seeing us like this.”

“You’re probably right, though I could stay here a little longer.” My face burns at his flirty tone. “Princesses have the most comfortable beds.”

I reach up behind me and grab a pillow, smacking him in the face with it before sitting up.

“I despise you.”

He pulls the pillow away and grins.