Fake Dates & Ice Skates: (The North University Series Book 1)

What was I doing and why couldn’t I make myself stop? Even though I’ve kept up with my gym and skating routine, the little free time that I have has been spent with Miles. Miles Fucking Davis has taken over my life and the worst part is – I don’t mind.

I knew the girls were right when they said he made me a happier person because he does. He doesn’t pester me about skating, about my diet, about school. We just talk. A lot of it is nonsense but we talk. And it feels good.

He’s been pushing the line lately but so have I. There is no denying that there is constant sexual tension between us but we’re both working hard on not acting on it. Sure, we’ve both said a flirty comment here or there but in private we’ve never done anything that we should be doing in public. I am still sticking to my main rule: if this get too real, in whatever way, we have to let each other know. I can’t risk this becoming too powerful.

It wasn’t easy helping Miles get back to his position that he was in before everything happened. We’ve been to the gym nearly every day over the past two weeks, gradually getting more difficult but he’s stayed on top.

Being seen around campus with Miles definitely has its perks. I never used to wander around other than when I was on my way to class, but it turns out there is a life outside of the rink.

We went to the campus library, Miles’ arm over my shoulder and I could have sworn there was paparazzi. Okay, maybe not but it felt like it. We were constantly interrupted by other people who were calling him ‘bro’ as if they spoke before that interaction. The guys want to be him. I get it. He’s hot and he’s popular but by the way some of these guys are up his ass, you’d think he’s Brad Pitt or some shit.

And the girls — they are even worse. They come over and say “Hi” as if they weren’t the same people who mocked me after regionals. As if they weren’t the ones who dropped out of figure skating, leaving the rest of us to somehow salvage the little hope our team has. I guess people are just glad to see us happy again.

I’ve spent most of this morning at the rink, spinning and gliding until my head starts to throb. I’m trying to add the finishing touches to my routine for the showcase but filming it has been a nightmare.

Scarlett doesn’t have the patience to stand and film it for me, even though she says that she loves to watch me skate. And Kennedy is just a lost cause who claims that her arms ache too much to be able to film a five-minute performance. I go through my routine full out for the millionth time and I don’t even need to strain my eyes to see that he’s here.

“You’ve got to stop sneaking up on me like this,” I say as I land my Lutz on a wobbly leg, groaning at myself.

“Do you have eyes at the back of your head or something?” Miles asks as I see his blurry figure walking down the last set of stairs. He stands at the end of the rink, his forearms dangling on the railing, a lazy smile hanging on his mouth.

“No, you just breathe really loud,” I say sarcastically. He rolls his eyes. “What do you want?”

“Do I have to want something to speak to my girlfriend?”

I still haven’t gotten used to those words on his mouth, no matter how fake they are and how many times he says it. Only two people have ever called me their girlfriend: Augustus and my two-week boyfriend in middle school, Ryan. To hear anyone say it, it’d be insane, but coming from him it’s even more strange.

“My bad. What’s the matter, honey?” I amend. He shudders at the pet-name which makes me equally as uncomfortable.

“Okay, chill. We’re nineteen not ninety,” he says shaking his head. “Our first game is coming up, it’s only a friendly but I can’t play yet. So, I was thinking that we could go together, to watch. Everyone will go insane when they see me on the bench.”

I can’t help but laugh at his confidence. “How are you so sure everyone will go ‘insane’?”

“Because women love to scream my name,” he whispers. I fight off the heat on my face as I push away from him, skating backwards.

“You’re disgusting, you know,” I shout, even though we’re not that far away.

“You can stop acting like you don’t like me. It’s not cute anymore, Wrenny,” he whines.

“Who said I was pretending?” I grin. He opens his mouth before closing it again, shaking off whatever he was going to say. “And you calling me Wrenny isn’t cute either.” I groan at his insistent use of the nickname Kennedy introduced him to.

“Watching you act like you hate it is the best part of my day,” he says proudly, grinning at me with that ridiculous face of his. I roll my eyes, but he can’t see because I’m in the middle of turning. Then a thought pops into my head, reminding me why I was thinking of him in the first place.

“Oh shit,” I say, tumbling towards him.

“What? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just forgot to ask you something and it’s kind of late notice,” I explain, frustrated with myself for not asking earlier. “Can you pass me my guards? They’re in my bag.”

Miles turns to look in my gym bag and pulls out my white guards for my skates. I glide to exit the rink, holding onto the railing as I slip them on before sitting down on the bench, finally being able to breathe. He slides next to me, wonder and curiosity dancing in his eyes.

“What’s up?” Miles questions.

“My dad invited us to this gala event at one of his hotels. He said he wants to meet you, but I know we said we’d discuss the whole family thing, but it slipped my mind. It’s in three days. No one from NU should be there but my dad knows we’re ‘dating.’ You can totally say no if you’re not comfortable and I can just make an excuse,” I ramble, my hands doing most of the talking.

“I’ll come,” he replies quickly. “Should be fun, right? Evan goes to galas all the time. Isn’t it like the Oscars for people who have boring jobs?”

“Yeah, sort of,” I laugh.

“Do you think he’ll like me? Your dad,” he asks, wearily.

“Definitely. He likes everybody,” I say truthfully. He draws back a little, clearly hesitant. Without thinking about it, I touch his knee reassuringly. “I’m not just saying that, either. He’s a very nice guy and he’s probably my favourite person to ever walk the Earth. He’ll probably call you ‘son’ the second you meet.”

That makes him smile. I really am not just saying it. My dad is one of the friendliest people I’ve met. Sometimes, he’s a little too friendly which is why I often question how he’s managed to stay in the hotel business for so long. He’s nice and he’s kind but he won’t let people walk all over him, that’s for sure.

“Another thing….” I draw out when the thought comes to my head. “Usually with these events, my dad books me a suite to stay for the night to save me travelling back home late. When I told him about you, he got us a room. Obviously, you don’t have to stay the night but just so you know.”

His face lights up. “You think I’m going to pass on going to another fancy hotel with you after seeing that gym?” 

“I feel like there was a sliver of a compliment in there for me,” I say, squinting my eyes.

“There was, Wrenny. There was.” 

I roll my eyes, again, at his use of that name. I grab my bag and stand up before slinging it over my shoulder. “Wear something nice and I’ll pick you up at three.”

“You got it, Wrenny Rainbow,” he says with a commander’s salute.

“Hey, you’ve already got ‘baby’ and ‘Wrenny,’ so please don’t tell me that’s going to be a thing too.”

“Oh, it already is.”

*

“I’m never going to forgive you for this, Wren. I have so many emotions inside of me I think I might explode. Actually, I’m moving out,” Kennedy groans, dropping onto the floor dramatically.

“I’ll be moving out with her,” Scarlett adds, falling to floor on top of Kennedy.

I have just read them the latest chapter to Stolen Kingdom and I killed off one of the main love interests, Erik. He was a personal favourite of the both of them. I kind of loved him too. He was the kind of book boyfriend that all my friends obsessed with. Dark features, too tall for anyone, dominant and completely lacking any sorts of self-awareness. I poke them with my feet from the couch as they squirm.

“You guys are so dramatic. He’s not even real,” I say, joining them on the floor.

“He was real to me!” Kennedy sobs, throwing her hand across her face melodramatically. Scarlett sits up, tutting at her as if she wasn’t on the floor a few second ago. “I already fan-cast Austin Butler to play him in the movie.”

“It’s not going to be a movie,” I mutter under my breath. Kennedy pretends to sulk with a pout.

“Speaking of things that aren’t real… How are you and Loverboy?” Scarlett asks with a shoulder shimmy. Over the past few weeks, I’ve gotten used to Scarlett’s variations of nicknames for Miles. I’ve heard, Hockey Freak, Milesy Cyrus, Loverboy, Miles a Million, and Miley. Honestly, I don’t hate them.

“Things are good. He’s getting better with training, and I got a ton of Instagram followers. Oh, and Gigi approves. Things are looking up,” I say proudly.

“Cool but how are…you know…things?” Scarlett repeats with more emphasis, gesturing suggestively towards my private areas. Kennedy shoots up now, looking at us with expectant eyes, mischief dancing in them.

“What she’s trying to say is: have you fucked him yet?” Ken asks without batting an eye.

“I wasn’t going to say ‘fucked,’” Scarlett drawls with an eye roll. Her face suddenly turns serious. “But yes, have you?”

“No, I haven’t. And I don’t think I’m going to anytime soon,” I sigh. “But the sexual frustration is slowly eating away at me. I’ve burned through two sets of batteries for my vibrator in the past week.”

I hate to admit it but it’s true. Seeing him nearly every day has not helped the throbbing between my legs. He’s an attractive guy and we have to go to the gym together. Listening to him grunt and groan is not making this any easier. Not because I want him but because I haven’t slept with anyone in months.

We’re both attracted to each other, that much is clear, but the second we act on it outside of the contract, it could be messy. It also means that every time I close my eyes he’s right fucking there.

“You dirty bitch,” Scarlett mocks, her face wide in a smile. I shove my face between my hands. “You need to sleep with someone and quick. It doesn’t even have to be with Miles. It isn’t in your little contract, is it?”

I lift my face up to them. “Technically it’s not but I don’t want to do that. It feels too close to cheating, and I’d feel disgusting afterwards.”

“Because that’s so much better than a vibrator,” Kennedy retorts sarcastically.

“Well, at least it can make me finish,’ I say, getting up from the floor.

We all burst out laughing until our stomachs hurt. Kennedy is the slapper, hitting us until we’re basically bruised while she laughs hard. I’m the one with the wheeze and Scarlett just sounds like an evil baby genius.

“Poor Augustus,” Scarlett says between her hysterical laughter. My phone starts to ring beside me and I see my Dad’s caller ID and I pick it up.

‘Hi, dad,’ I say when I answer it.

‘Emmy! I thought I wouldn’t be able to get you with how busy you were the last time you called,’ my dad replies, being the drama queen he is.

I laugh. ‘I had to go to class, dad. I’m not busy now. What’s up?’

‘Is your boyfriend coming to my opening gala?’ he asks, leaving no room for small talk. Before I can respond he adds, ‘I’ve sorted out the room and everything so I hope he can. If not, it’s totally fine. I understand how you kids are these days.’

‘Yes, he said he can come,’ I say and the girls try and hold in their laughs.

‘Perfect. I can’t wait to meet who has been making my daughter so happy,’ he replies. I wish he could see me rolling my eyes. ‘I got you a luxury suite so you don’t have to worry about sleeping in different beds.’

‘Yeah. Dad. About that. We don’t need to share a bed because-‘

‘Wren,’ he presses. ‘I want you to know that I trust you. And I know that you and your mom don’t have the best relationship but I don’t want that for us. If you and your boyfriend want to cuddle, who am I to stop you?’

‘But dad-‘ I try again but he cuts me off.

‘Wren. It’s settled.’

‘Mom would never do this,’ I murmur, laughing at my dad’s persistence.

‘Good job I’m not your mom. Isn’t it, kiddo?’ dad adds before cutting the call on me.