The Playboy's Fake Girlfriend

Chapter Two

I was stunned, to say the least.

My brows knitted together as I pointed at him. “You… need a favor from me?”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” Sam shot back, lifting one eyebrow in challenge.

My confusion only deepened. “W-what?” I stammered. What on earth could someone like him possibly want from someone like me?

Sam frowned slightly, tilting his head. “Arent you the class's nerd? I thought you were smarter than this,” he muttered, more to himself than to me.

“Excuse me for not being psychic,” I retorted sharply, glaring at him with all the resentment I could muster. Instead of being put off, Sam chuckled, which only made my frustration rise. Then, without warning, he rested a hand on my shoulder, leveling those pale blue eyes with mine. I narrowed my gaze at the touch.

“I… need… a… favor… from… you,” he said slowly, as if speaking to a child, even making hand gestures to emphasize each word.

I gaped at him. “I know what you meant!” I hissed, swatting his hand away. My voice dropped to a whisper-shout; the last thing I wanted was more attention in the hallway. He opened his mouth to reply, but I cut him off, raising a hand in front of his face.

“And before you even ask, my answer’s no,” I snapped, stressing the word favor.

Instead of being offended, his lips curled into an amused smile. “But you don’t even know what I was going to say.” Leaning lazily against the locker beside me, he watched me with infuriating ease.

I grimaced at his casual stance and straightened my posture, refusing to mirror it. “Well, it’s not hard to guess. Knowing your reputation, it’s either doing your homework or…” I paused, my chin tilting upward. “Sleeping with you. And the answer’s no to both.”

He blinked once, then broke into laughter. Actual, full laughter.

My face heated instantly. I glared, embarrassed that my attempt at a cutting reply had only amused him. Running a hand through his messy black hair, Sam shook his head between laughs.

“Sleep with me? That’s definitely not what I meant,” he said finally.

I rolled my eyes, but my cheeks betrayed me, burning hotter. I hadn’t meant to sound like that—it was supposed to be scathing. Instead, the very idea that he found it laughable stung somewhere deep, hitting that familiar bruise on my self-esteem.

And of course, when I looked up again, he was smirking at me.

“That wasn’t the favor I was going to ask,” he teased, leaning closer until his shoulder almost brushed mine. “But if that’s where your mind went first… I’m sure I could make arrangements.” He winked.

I shoved him back firmly. He barely moved, but he got the message, leaning away with that same maddening smirk.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Romeo,” I muttered. “If I ever think of you, trust me—it won’t be fondly.”

His grin only widened. Somehow, insults slid right off him, and that smirk of his managed to look unfairly good while doing it.

Then he c****d his head. “Wait. Did you just call me Romeo? Is Shakespeare still in trend?”

I scowled, but instead of wasting breath on a sarcastic comeback, I simply rolled my eyes. That was all he deserved.

Sam chuckled, enjoying my silence far too much. “What, are you just going to keep staring at me?”

“I wasn’t even—” I started, flustered, but he cut me off with a dismissive wave.

“Don’t worry,” he said smugly. “I’m used to it.”

I let out a sharp scoff. “Careful, Sam. If your ego gets any bigger, you’ll need tailor-made shirts just to fit your head through.”

That earned another laugh. He glanced down at his outfit as if genuinely checking. “What do you take me for?”

I huffed. This conversation was dragging on far too long. “What’s the favor, Sam?” My impatience was starting to show. I had places to be, things to do—things that did not include standing here trading jabs with the school’s golden boy.

His tone shifted suddenly, all traces of cockiness melting away. “Yeah… I know it’s a lot to ask. But I really need your help.”

The seriousness in his voice startled me. My heart stuttered. For the first time, he didn’t sound like the untouchable, arrogant leader of the school’s social world. He sounded… almost human. Sad, even.

Curiosity overrode my annoyance. “What is it?” I asked carefully. My guard was still up, but his tone hooked me despite myself.

He met my eyes then—really met them. And in that moment, I couldn’t look away. His stare was piercing, like icy blue flames, and for a second I felt my knees weaken.

He opened his mouth, closed it again, then exhaled slowly. Finally, he spoke.

“I need you to be my girlfriend.”