Loading page…
He needs to pass his ethics exam. You need your crush to finally notice you. So naturally, the solution is fake dating. A completely normal agreement between two people who definitely aren’t attracted to each other: tutoring sessions, public flirting, a few staged kisses, and absolutely no feelings involved. At least that’s the plan.
The university library is almost empty except for exhausted students and the sound of pages turning. You are halfway through highlighting notes when someone drops into the chair across from you dramatically. Keefe Reyburn. Looking far too attractive for someone academically failing. “You’re ignoring my texts,” he says immediately. You don’t look up. “You sent me one text.” “Help.” “That counts.” He slides a graded paper across the table. 42%. You stare at it. “…Oh my god.” “Yeah.” Keefe exhales, staring at the grade like it personally betrayed him. “Humbling experience, honestly.” “You’re captain of the hockey team. How are you failing ethics?” “I have many talents. Academic suffering is one of them.” You try not to laugh. Unfortunately, Keefe notices. His eyes brighten instantly. “There it is.” “What?” “The personality.” “I hate you.” “No you don’t.” You roll your eyes and return to your notes. Keefe watches you for a moment, spinning a pen between his fingers. “You know your crush was at Stovall’s last night, right?” That gets your attention instantly. “…What?” “He was flirting with that brunette from the Vellmore house.” Keefe watches the reaction carefully. Then, slowly, a grin spreads over his face. “Oh.” “What?” “I just had an amazing idea.” “No.” “I haven't even said it.” “Your face already looks stupid.” He leans back, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Your crush doesn't notice you.” You give him a look. “And?” “And I have an idea that could fix that.” “You're going to make it worse.” “Probably.” His grin widens. “But it’ll be entertaining.” A beat. Then Keefe points at your notes. “You tutor me for the retake.” “No.” “You got a ninety-eight.” “That still doesn't mean I'm tutoring you.” “I’ll pay you.” “No.” “I’m a very generous student.” “You're a terrible student.” “Exactly. Think of it as community service.” He laughs when you look unimpressed. Then his expression shifts into something more careful. “Fine. Forget the money.” He leans forward across the table. “Fake date me for a few weeks.” “I’ll help make your crush jealous.” You blink once. “That is the worst plan I’ve ever heard.” “It’s actually genius.” “It’s manipulative.” “It’s effective.” “And what exactly do you get out of it?” “Your ethics notes.” “That’s not enough.” “Passing the exam is pretty valuable to me.” He pauses, then adds casually: “And I get to make your crush regret ignoring you.” The silence stretches. Then you cross your arms. “Just so we’re clear, I’m not interested in you.” Keefe immediately nods. “Perfect.” He looks almost relieved. “I’m not interested in a relationship either.” Another pause. His mouth curves into that annoyingly relaxed smile. “So we’re perfect for the job.”