Boyfriend Bargain (Hawthorne University #1)(26)

And it’s her voice in my head as I stand in Zack Morgan’s kitchen.

He’s just kissed my hand and now he’s staring down at me, waiting for me to tell him what I want. “Why are you really here?” he says, his tone soft.

I pull my hand out of his grasp. My heart is beating double time. Part of me is seriously annoyed that he has this pull over me while the other side just wants to throw him down, saddle up, and ride him like the thoroughbred he is.

I take a deep breath and go for it. “I need a fake boyfriend who plays hockey, specifically you.” I let those words sink in.

His brows go straight up, surprise on his face. “Didn’t see that coming. Why?”

I huff out a laugh, struggling for words. “I—I applied to Vanderbilt Law School and was waitlisted.”

He nods, crossing his arms. “That sucks. Go on.”

“And there’s this interview thing in Nashville this spring where you have dinner with the admissions faculty. Mostly it’s to see who still has them on their list and who’s moved on to another school—which I won’t. It’s Vandy or nothing. I can bring a guest. Maybe you?” I hold my breath.

His eyes analyze me. “Why me?”

“William Fitzgerald is the dean of admissions and a huge fan of the Predators.” I twist my lips. “It’s public knowledge from his social media. He’s constantly posting about how excited he is to see you join the team in Nashville this summer…”

He cocks an eyebrow.

“And…if he thought I was your girlfriend, he might give me a shot.”

“I see.” He paces around the small kitchen, his brow knitting. I study him while he isn’t looking, tracing the lines of his angular face, taking in the shadows under his eyes. I pause, wondering what keeps him up at night. There’s more to him, something deep and dark— He lets out a deep exhalation and rubs a hand over his lips. I think I’ve blindsided him.

Shit. He’s going to say no.

I start talking fast. “It would just be for that event—if you would go with me. Plus, we don’t even have to talk to each other until then. We can just say we’ll do it and shake on it…or something. It’s a trip out of town, but I can pay for it. I’m working extra shifts and I’m not splurging on any extras.”

“Will this plan of yours push someone else out of a place?”

“No, this event is all about who is willing to not apply to other schools and maybe snag the spot of someone who’s dropped out at the last minute. With my scores, I could get in without you, I just…” I sigh, stopping, that familiar anger rising. “Look, I scored a 178 out of 180 on the LSAT. That’s insane, and there’s no logical reason they turned me down. I could snap my fingers and go to Harvard with that score.”

“Then why not go to Harvard?”

I shake my head. “My father’s entire family went to Vandy.”

He scowls. “These are the people who think you’re not good enough for them?”

“Yes, and I want to prove I am. Plus, it’s also one of the top law schools in the country and I want to move back to the South…where I fit in.”

“You fit in here,” he says.

“Do I?”

His gaze drifts over my face. “Yes.”

Oh. I glance down at his books. “I know the idea sounds crazy, and I’d be happy to help you with whatever you need in exchange.”

“Anything?”

“Not that,” I say.

He smirks. “There are other things you can do for me. Let’s figure it out.” He takes a seat at the table and indicates I should do the same. I sit and watch as he grabs a notebook from the chair and opens it, turning the pages. “I think we need to get some ideas on paper, establish some rules. Sound good?”

My stomach flutters with excitement. I like where this is going. I nod. “Rules?”

“Yeah. We need parameters, what you’ll do for me, etcetera.” He taps the pen against the paper and watches me. “First, going out of town—that’s like asking me to give you a leg. I hate to travel, and Coach will be pissed if I miss any postseason training sessions.” He thinks for a moment and then drops his bomb. “I want you to be the girl of the month, starting today and going for four weeks, which technically puts you in the middle of February.”

I shake my head. “I’m not having sex—”

“So you’ve already insinuated—”

“Because I’m not.”

His face looks unsettled. “No reason to remind me you don’t even like me.”

I sigh. That really isn’t true. He brought my coat to me, and I enjoyed our banter in class, and I think…I think I see kindness in his eyes now as he looks at me.

“I do like you,” I say.

“And you did bring a pie, although I can’t eat it.” He gives me a sheepish grin.

“I had no intention of bringing up the fake boyfriend thing until you asked,” I add with a sigh. “If we set up an arrangement, what do I have to do for you?”

“Hang out in public, spread the word that we’re together—that kind of thing.”

Really? “Why?”

He leans in over the table. “I need to focus on my game and training. Women are constantly finagling their way into my life, and honestly, I need a break.”