His For A Year: The Basketball Lord's

Chapter Fifteen

“Why didn't you tell us you and Austin were dating?” I hadn't noticed Layla was standing beside her till she spoke.

I took the phone from Oliver, heaving a huge sigh since I knew there was no hiding to it anymore.

But then did I seriously want to tell them about the fact I wasn't really dating him?

I stared at the photo again, resisting the urge to roll my eyes at how the person captured the moment at the perfect time.

“Let's talk about this inside, shall we?” I suggested, watching her take her phone, and return it to the pocket of her jean jacket as the three of us headed towards the house.

Once inside, we went to my room where I took a seat on the sofa while she sat on the love seat and Layla sat comfortably on my bed.

“Alright, so tell me when and how you started dating a freaking basketball player.” Oliver started, sounding more surprised than annoyed.

“Not just any basketballer,” Layla pitched in, “but Austin Hames.”

“And why on earth am I just finding out?” She asked again.

“Where do you know him from?”

“How did you two meet?”

“When did you two meet?”

“Is it something serious? Or are you just together?”

“Woah, calm down with the questions,” I waved my hands to let them know it was enough questioning.

Oliver crossed her arms over her chest, “I guess we won't be questioning you so much if you hadn't dated a celebrity without telling me.”

“I thought you didn't believe in love,” Layla said, an edge of annoyance in her tone.

“Well…” would it be right to tell them I wasn't really dating him? I mean, Oliver's my sister so she should understand, right?

“Okay, I guess I can forgive you for not telling me about it, as long as my sister is really dating a celebrity,” she said the last word in a squeal.

I pulled my brows together, “you like that I'm dating a celebrity?”

“Duh,” she rolled her eyes, “every single human wants to date Austin Hames, and my sister is dating him.”

“Sadly, I'm not really dating him,” I admitted, watching them both pull their brows in confusion.

“What are you talking about?” Layla asked, shifting to the edge of the bed, expressing her interest in whatever I had to say.

“You know about the project I have to report to my publishers before the thirteenth of January,” I started.

Oliver nodded, but I wasn't sure if Layla would know about it.

“And I would expect you to also know that I have no knowledge in sports whatsoever.”

She leaned back against the seat, “so he agreed to teach you about basketball? What the heck? Why would he do so?”

“Because I agreed to be his pretend girlfriend for an entire year,” I said it like it was nothing, though I knew how huge it was.

They both stared at me in bewilderment, “what the f**k?” Layla let out a surprised chortle, “Austin Hames asked you to date him for a f*****g year? Why?”

“Because he wants to secure his CEO position and all,” that was a short way to explain it all.

“Wow,” Oliver snickered, “so you and Austin are fake dating so he can help you with your book and you'll help him with his CEO position.”

“Yeah, you could say it like that,” I stared at the smile that appeared on her face, “why do you seem happy about that fact?”

She shrugged, unable to hide her smile, “I don't know, I just kinda think it could be possible for you two to… you know?”

I rolled my eyes, “thanks, but you shouldn't forget that I don't believe in love. Just to date for fun.”

“Who knows,” she offered me a teasing wink, “it could be a novel you'll make where you two actually end up falling in love during this process of pretend dating.”

“What on earth are you saying?” Layla pitched in. “Kim is not a female who's interested in dating and so you shouldn't start saying rubbish.”

“I'm just saying,” her smile still didn't waver, “it's Austin we're talking about, not just any human.”

“You shouldn't forget that it isn't real dating,” I reminded, sure she wouldn't care about that.

“Still, all that matters is that you two are dating,” she sounded a lot like Katie would.

“Ha—”

A knock came from my room door, cutting me off, “hey girls, can I come in?” Dad asked.

“Yeah,” Oliver said, still smiling from ear to ear as dad opened the door, walking in.

“So I wanna tell you guys something,” he said, sounding a little hesitant so I sat straight.

“Yeah, what's up?” Oliver asked.

“My old pals are coming to America for the holidays, and I'm kinda going to have Thanksgiving dinner with them. Do you guys mind?”

Oh shoot, I'd totally forgotten about the fact I wasn't going to be attending Thanksgiving with them.

“What? Thanksgiving's supposed to be a family stuff,” she said, her face falling a little.

“Well… I could tell them I don't want to go,” he said, but I could sense he really wanted to attend.

Dad's pals were his friends of over thirty years. There were five in their group with dad being the oldest.

They were all so close, but then separated to different parts of the earth some years ago.

Still, they would come together once in a while to get back together.

And since they hadn't met for two years, I was sure it'd hurt dad a lot if he didn't meet with them for Thanksgiving.

“You can go dad,” I said, feeling like the older and matured daughter I always felt like.

“But how about Thanksgiving?” She stared at me with furrowed brows. “It's always been a family thing and that hasn't changed. Can't they meet afterwards or something?”

“It's alright girls, I can meet with them some other day,” dad gave me a small smile.

“I want him to go,” I continued, “because Austin has invited me to his family Thanksgiving and told me I could bring my family along.”

Hers and Layla's eyes widened. “Oh my goodness!” It came out more as a squeal.

“Who's Austin?” Dad asked in obvious confusion as she jumped to her feet, filling the room with a deafening squeal.

“Only the hottest basketballer in the world,” she said, running to grab me by the shoulder, pulling me to my feet. “Did he seriously say we could come?”

“Yeah, but we can't go anymore,” I gave them a sad expression.

“What do you mean?” Layla asked.

“We have to have Thanksgiving together as a family, remember?” I said in a ‘mock Oliver’ tone.

She waved her hands in the air, brushing it off, “who cares about family tradition when I can literally have dinner with the Hames family.”

“What's going on here?” Dad asked, expressing his confusion to the scene in front of him.

She left me, turning to him, “all you should think about is that you can go to your pals Thanksgiving.”

“Really?”

I smiled at him, offering him a wink, “yeah, really.”