Chapter 11
1106 Words
Asher
If anyone had told me few days ago that I’d end up in a fake relationship with Ivy Hart, let alone publicly announce it in front of half the campus, I would’ve had them arrested for insanity.
Charity Case.
That’s what she used to be to me. The quiet girl in high school I tormented just because I could. I thought if I pushed hard enough, she’d disappear. Break. Leave me alone. But she never did. She just took it, endured it, and somehow still ended up here — at Northbridge, with a full ride, camera in hand, and that stubborn fire in her eyes that refused to die.
And now?
Now I’m the one who can’t seem to stay away.
I loaded her ridiculously oversized suitcase into the bus compartment, ignoring the way she murmured a quiet “thank you.” I didn’t respond. Just slammed the compartment shut and headed inside to sit with the guys.
The second I dropped into my seat, the teasing started.
“Yo, lover boy!” Jax called from across the aisle, grinning like an i***t. “Since when do you play gentleman? Carrying bags? Kissing heads in public? What happened to you, man?”
“Never thought I’d see the day Asher Hayes goes soft for a girl. Especially that girl.”
“Charity Case turned girlfriend? Plot twist of the century.”
The guys were having way too much fun with this. I laughed along at first, shaking my head like it was all ridiculous. Because it was ridiculous.
“I never thought I would too,” I muttered.
Jax leaned forward from the seat behind me, grinning like an i***t. “So what happened, man? For real. Was it because of that trending video? We heard the investors were losing their s**t and Coach was on your ass.”
I leaned back, arms crossed. “It had nothing to do with that. Public opinion doesn’t dictate my decisions.”
The guys exchanged looks and burst out laughing.
“Yeah, right,” one of them snorted. “So you suddenly decided to claim the girl you used to bully as your girlfriend for no reason? Come on, bro. You just needed an excuse to finally f**k her, didn’t you?”
The crude words hit harder than they should have. I shot him a sharp look.
“It’s not like that,” I said flatly.
“Sure.” Jax said, smirking. That’s why you carried her bag, pulled her against you in front of everyone, and told Jennie to f**k off about her bald spot.”
The mention of Jennie made the atmosphere shift slightly.
One of the older guys shook his head. “Speaking of Jennie… she looked ready to murder someone this morning. You really shut her down hard. Thought you two had something going on, even if it was messy.”
I shrugged, keeping my tone casual. “Jennie and I were never serious. She knew that. She just doesn’t like hearing it out loud.”
The conversation moved on, but my mind didn’t. My eyes kept drifting back to Ivy a few rows ahead.
She was fast asleep by the window, head resting against the glass. Every bump in the road disturbed her, making her brow furrow slightly. Her hair fell softly over her face, moving with the motion of the bus. She looked small. Tired. Vulnerable in a way that twisted something uncomfortable in my chest.
Nothing like the girl who had slapped me in front of everyone. Nothing like the girl I used to mock.
An unfamiliar pull twisted low in my chest. I told myself it was just the situation — the forced proximity, the need to sell the lie. But the longer I stared, the harder it became to look away.
What the hell are you doing to me, Ivy?
She stirred slightly in her sleep, letting out a soft sigh, and my grip tightened on the armrest.
This was supposed to be simple. Fake dating until the tournament ended. Keep my spot on the team. Protect her scholarship. Then walk away.
But as I watched her sleeping there, hair swaying with every bump in the road, I realized the truth I didn’t want to admit.
I tried to ignore it.
I really did.
I leaned back in my seat, arms crossed, forcing my gaze out the window at the passing scenery. The guys were still throwing jokes around, I smirked and threw a few comebacks, playing along.
But my eyes kept drifting back to her.
Her head slipped and her body shifted uncomfortably, only for the next pothole to disturb her again. Her brows furrowed in her sleep, lips parting on a quiet, frustrated sigh.
Fuck.
I clenched my jaw, then I stood up.
The guy sitting next to her, one of the freshmen looked up at me, surprised. I jerked my chin toward my old seat. He didn’t argue. He quickly gathered his stuff and switched with me.
I slid into the seat beside Ivy.
She didn’t wake up. The bus hit another light bump, and her head slipped again, nearly knocking against the window. Before I could overthink it, I reached over, gently cupping the side of her head and guiding it onto my shoulder.
She let out a soft, sleepy sound and instinctively nestled closer, her cheek pressing against my shoulder, hair spilling over my arm. Her breathing evened out almost immediately, warm and steady against my neck.
My entire body went still.
She fit there too perfectly. The faint floral scent of her shampoo hit me, and I had to fight the urge to turn my head and bury my face in her hair.
What the hell are you doing, Hayes?
This wasn’t part of the plan. I wasn’t supposed to care if she was uncomfortable. I wasn’t supposed to want her this close. But now that she was here, head on my shoulder, trusting me even in her sleep… I didn’t want to move.
One of the guys from the back whistled low. “Damn, hard boy is down bad.”
I shot him a glare over my shoulder, but there was no real heat in it. My hand stayed lightly on Ivy’s arm, steadying her as the bus continued down the road.
She stirred slightly, murmuring something incoherent against my shirt, and my chest tightened in a way I didn’t recognize.
This fake relationship was becoming far too dangerous.
Because the scariest part wasn’t that people might find out it was fake.
It was that I was starting to wish it wasn’t.
- Writer
