Would You Rather: A College Romance (Campus Games Book 3)
Would You Rather (Campus Games Book 3): Chapter 20

Catching feelings

I almost kissed her.

In that tiny, empty room with less than two inches between us, I couldn’t help but let my mind wonder and needs take over as I thought about what it would be like to kiss her.

Her lips were slightly parted, glossy this time. That pink bottom lip begging for attention, those chocolate brown eyes so enticing, even in the dimly lit room. I almost did it.

I almost slid my hand across her cheek, almost wrapped my hand around the back of her head, and pulled her into me. Almost leaned down until our lips brushed together.

But then I remembered her no-kissing rule.

It was fucking agony, having her right there breathing hard, looking up at me like she wanted me to. Especially when the soft moan left her lips, I couldn’t think, couldn’t fucking breathe when she was right in front of me. But I couldn’t have her.

I’m not the one she wants.

I’m not Connor.

“Great job.” My head lifts, snapping out of it when I remember I’m at a job right now.

The photographer gives me a thumbs up, telling me our session is done. I rub a hand down my face when I walk off set. I just hope it went well. I was completely in my head, only one thought running through my mind, or more accurately, one person.

James’ moans make me freeze when I walk in the changing rooms, and I lift my head, seeing him devour a plate full of cheese and crackers.

Letting out a laugh, I head toward him, dropping onto the couch. “I’m starting to think you only come to these things for the food.”

He nods, his mouth full of food. “You’d be right.”

I shake my head, a laugh bubbling out of me, while I reach for my phone, subconsciously looking for her name on it. My hand tightens around my phone when I don’t see any messages from her. Fuck. What has this girl done to me? I can’t get her out of my fucking mind.

James lets out a laugh, and I turn to face him, seeing him stare down at his phone.

“Who are you talking to?” I ask him, wondering who has him laughing like that.

“Madi.”

My heart stops at the sound of her name. “Madeline?” I repeat. “My Madeline?”

His head snaps to mine, a cocky smirk painted on his lips. “Your Madeline, huh?”

I puff out a breath. “You know what I mean. Why the hell are you talking to Madeline?”

“Technically, it’s a group chat,” he explains, munching on the crackers. “But your girl was just telling me about her audition.”

My brows furrow. “She had an audition?” I ask, completely ignoring the ‘your girl’ comment. I didn’t have time to think about why the hell my heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest at the words.

“She didn’t tell you?” he asks, his brows knitting together.

No, she fucking didn’t.

I wonder if she’s avoiding me because of what went down at the party. I didn’t kiss her. I did what I promised her I would do, and I didn’t fucking kiss her, no matter how much I wanted to, because we both knew that if I did, it wouldn’t have been fake. There was no one around. It would have just been for us.

My fingers hover over her name. I shouldn’t text her. I know that, but it doesn’t stop me from doing just that.

Me:

You had an audition?

Madeline:

Yep.

I frown at her clipped tone, wanting to kick myself for making her uncomfortable. I can’t believe I did that. I was so fucking stupid, blinded by jealousy, when I saw how her crush wants her. Yeah, well, so do I. But she won’t even look twice at me when she’s all I think about.

My attention is shaken when James laughs again, staring down at his phone. She’s fucking talking to him, joking with him, but all I get is a one-word answer? Lifting myself off the couch, I head toward the exit, my thumb hovering over the green call button.

“Why are you calling me?” she says into the phone.

I let out a laugh, my pulse settling at the sound of her voice. “Is that how you always answer the phone?”

“When it’s you calling, yes.”

I shake my head, a smile on my lips even though she’s trying to insult me. Blowing out a breath, my lips fall into a frown. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific,” she says. “I don’t read minds.”

“About the audition,” I clarify.

She’s quiet for a while before I hear a sigh. “I didn’t think you’d care.”

My frown deepens. Does she really think I’m that kind of guy? “Of course I care,” I say. “How did it go?”

“I got the rejection email twenty minutes ago,” she says. I can hear the sadness in her voice, and it makes my chest ache.

“I’m sorry.” Leaning back on the wall, I keep the phone pressed against my ear when I hear the subtle laugh coming from her.

“It’s not your fault,” she says.

Isn’t it? It’s probably been the first audition she’s been to since this started, and she didn’t get it. I blow out a breath, wanting her to forget about the rejection. “Question number fourteen,” I start, smiling when I hear her grunt. “What does your dream house look like?”

She chuckles. “Why? Are you going to build it for me?”

I smirk, rubbing a thumb over my lip. Hopefully. “Just answer the question.”

“I guess I don’t want something too big,” she says, surprising me. Usually, when you ask someone what their dream house is, they always say a huge, elaborate house, not Madeline, though. “I want my house to be clean and homey. I don’t like the idea of having a huge empty void, especially when it’ll probably just be me.”

My frown returns. “Why do you say that?” I ask her.

Her silence kills me as it radiates through us until she sighs. “I just don’t see myself sharing a life with someone else.”

My heart drops to my stomach. I don’t even know why, but hearing that come from her lips kills me. “Really?” I ask her, my pulse racing.

“Yeah,” she admits, her voice quiet and not like I’m used to hearing from her. “You know how much of a control freak I am.”

The corner of my lips lifts as I lick my lips and shake off her earlier words. I shouldn’t care that she wants to spend her life alone. I shouldn’t be thinking about what it would be like if she were to spend it with… me.

But I am.

It’s all I’m thinking about.

So when I rub my hand over my face, unable to shake the thought of Madeline out of my mind, I say something I probably shouldn’t. “Question number fifteen. What’s your dream date?”

She laughs. “This again?”

“You didn’t answer me before,” I remind her.

“Why do you want to know so bad?”

I want to know what makes you happy. “You’re bad at answering questions,” I say instead, not wanting her to read too much into it.

“I told you I don’t let myself think about it,” she tells me, and I hear the sigh in her voice.

“Try, Madeline,” I plead. “Just tell me what would make you happy.”

“Lucas.”

I tut, shaking my head at her tone. “It’s my question, Mads. You answer, that was the deal.”

A heavy sigh escapes her. “I know it’ll probably never happen, but…” My ears perk up, wanting to know her answer. “I’d want the guy to plan it. I’d want to be surprised, admired… worshipped.” My eyebrows raise at her boldness. Madeline has always been a closed-off, independent person ever since I have known her, so this… it surprises the fuck out of me.

“I’d want him to pick out a dress for me, pick out my hairstyle, my nails, and take me where he’s never taken another girl before. I’d want to be the center of his attention, the only thought in his head.”

I smirk, picturing how I would do every one of those things. I could be so fucking good to her if she’d let me.

The truth hits me right in my face before I can even begin to process what the hell that means.

I’ve caught feelings for my fake girlfriend.

How the hell did this happen? How did I let this happen? Even though I made her promise not to develop feelings for me, I ended up doing just that. When we met, she was a pain in my ass, and I had no interest in her. Even if I thought she was beautiful, and my body warmed every time I looked at her, the way she hated me was enough to tame down any other feelings. But now? She’s everywhere. Thoughts of her consume my mind, day after day And I don’t know what to do about it.

“I was right,” I say with a smile on my face.

“About?”

“You are a princess.”

A scoff leaves her mouth, making me chuckle at the sound. I swear if I were dying, her laugh would cure me. “And now I regret answering your question.”

I shake my head, unable to stop smiling. “Are you ready for the interview?” I ask her.

Ana managed to get us another interview with CelebCentral next week. Although I should be thinking about the interview, about how lucky we are that they gave us another chance after standing them up at the last minute, my only thoughts are of Madeline.

What might she wear, how will she do her makeup that day? Will she wear that cherry red lipstick again? God, I hope so. Will her hair be down, or will she have it up this time? She usually has it curly on Wednesdays. I don’t even know if Madeline will want me to touch her after what happened last week, necessary or not.

“Of course,” she says.

“Really?” I ask. “How are you feeling now? Any sickness coming on?”

I can almost picture her rolling her eyes. “I’m fine. I’ll be there.”

“You can’t blame me for being worried.”

She lets out a scoff. “You? Worried?”

I frown. “Yes, Madeline. I’m fucking worried for you. Is that so hard to believe?”

She’s quiet for a while, and I wonder if she’s thinking back to the party. I wonder If she really thinks I don’t care about her or if she saw through the jealousy and realized I want her. “I wouldn’t want to have to cancel the interview again,” I say to ease any suspicions she may have.

“That won’t happen,” she says. “I’ll make sure of it. I’m going to be there bright and early.”

“To pretend to be my girlfriend,” I fill in for her because that’s what we’re going to be doing. A whole day of smiling, touching, and pretending we’re dating for the cameras.

“That’s the deal.” That’s the deal. She says that as if it’s such a hardship for her, and once upon a time, it was for me too, but not anymore. I’m anticipating it, anticipating being able to touch her without her flinching or being able to smile at her when that’s all I ever want to do when I look at her.

“You’re a good actress, right?” I ask her like I haven’t seen it with my own eyes. Like I haven’t re-watched her audition tapes a handful of times. Ana had a copy, and when I asked her to see it, I told her I needed to see if she was good enough, which was a lie. I knew Madeline was amazing before I even laid eyes on that tape, but afterward? I was speechless, unable to understand how she hadn’t landed an audition yet.

“Why do you want to know?” she asks skeptically.

“So I know if I need to stop you from exposing us as faking a relationship.”

She laughs. “You doubt my skills that much?”

I smirk, leaning back into my bed, loving how we’re back to teasing each other after the whirlwind that was last week. “Hey, I’ve never seen you act,” I lie. “You can’t blame me for wondering.”

“And you never will,” she says.

My smirk widens. Little does she know. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

“How come?”

I let out a sigh. “Because you’re going to have to do a whole lot of pretending at the interview.”

What I don’t tell her is I doubt I’ll have to do any.