Writing the Rules: A Fake Dating Standalone Mariah Dietz (best novels to read .txt) đź“–
- Author: Mariah Dietz
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“Some days, I wonder if I want to study cetology.”
“Really?” Rae’s eyes flash to mine as she takes a bite of mac n’ cheese.
“You have this energy and passion that is contagious when you talk about it. I want that. Sometimes it makes me feel like I’m so behind. You know what you want to do for a career, and you and Lincoln are in this happy little bubble that is so adorable it’s borderline disgusting.”
She cackles. “You know that’s not true. My life’s still a mess. I haven’t talked to my dad in six months, and there’s this deep sense of unease in my chest about what will happen if Lincoln gets drafted, and what will happen if he doesn’t.” Lincoln has long been expected to work for his father, something he’s vehemently opposed. He’s got all his eggs in the NFL basket to ensure he doesn’t have to face that landmine. Her expression turns stoic. “I mean, regardless of how much we care about each other, I still have two years of school left, and I know that time and distance are going to have an impact.” Her eyes turn glassy.
My heart aches for her. “If you told Lincoln you wanted to break up, there’s no way in hell he’d be okay with that. No way. If he’s drafted, he’s going to fly you out there every weekend and break, and you guys will figure it out. And if he’s not drafted, you’re going to support him and remind him that he’s crazy brilliant and could likely do something with all of that random knowledge he has.”
Raegan smiles so wide all traces of her fear and sadness vanish. “I just want to focus on the here and now and make sure I’m being present and living in the moment as much as possible.”
“Exactly.”
We finish our lunch and wander through the mall, our conversation becoming lighter, filled with inside jokes, holiday gift ideas, and enjoying the time alone that has me feeling grateful I skipped my class. I find a long-sleeved shirt that’s supposed to hold in heat, and for some ridiculous reason, I look to see if they have them for men while Rae looks for leggings to wear under her jeans. Call it impulse, but I grab the men’s version of the shirt and bring both to the register and check out so I can’t question my decision or motivation.
“Let’s go find that candy shop,” Rae says as she finishes checking out.
The wind has us hurrying the several blocks to the candy store, where everything is printed with pink and brown boxes. We admire the cases of candies and then each order too many. “Chocolate-covered marshmallows,” Raegan says wistfully. “This is my kind of place.”
I check the time again. It’s only five, but with the ninety-minute drive and needing to check in to our hotel, I’m beginning to feel a sense of restlessness crawl into my thoughts. “Do you think we should get a car to head to Pullman?”
Rae nods. “Probably a good idea. I don’t think there’s anything else to see that’s indoors, anyways.”
We huddle in the store, sharing one of the small boxes of soft peanut brittle that quickly becomes my new favorite candy as we wait for our ride to arrive.
“I’m glad you two made reservations,” the woman at the front desk of the hotel says when we arrive to check in. “We’re booked tonight.”
“Because of the football game?” Rae asks.
“Probably,” she says. “I’ll try to put you on a different floor than all of them. I’m sure they’re going to be loud.”
We hide a grin as she checks us in, informing us she doesn’t have availability for us to be on the same floor, before she can tell us our rooms, the doors behind us open, and the team pours into the lobby, calling our names, then out to Lincoln and Paxton to announce that we’re here. My cheeks flush with the attention, but the woman at the front desk puts me to shame as her cheeks flare red.
“They are really loud,” I tell her, offering what I hope she interprets as a kind smile.
“I didn’t mean that offensively,” she says.
I shake my head. “We didn’t take it to be.”
An arm slides around my shoulder, drawing me back toward a strong, familiar chest. My heart beats unevenly, and I sink against him, smelling the faint scent of his cologne and the clean scent of soap that makes my stomach do funny things. “You guys got here early,” Pax says, his lips grazing my ear before settling on my cheek.
“It’s freezing here, and half of the suggested attractions had us going outside on hikes,” Rae tells him. “But we still had fun.”
“Did you want two room keys or just the one?” the woman at the front desk asks.
“Two,” Paxton says before I can answer.
23
Paxton
We sit in a conference room in the hotel, listening to Coach Harris. The classroom part of practice has never been a struggle for me, but tonight, everything feels mundane and repetitive. I’ve watched the tape for this team three times this week, met with Coach Baker and Coach Harris about our strategy, met with my offensive team, and even with Ian to compare notes, but with every win, the next game seems like the next most important game and this is worth all of the marbles.
“Enjoy the room tonight,” Lincoln says as Coach dismisses us.
I cringe at the idea of him spending the night with my little sister, but I hate him a little less because it means I don’t have to share a room. Not to mention, it’s the first time he’s trusted me out of his sight on an away game since the beginning of the season. Come to think of it, my chaperones have been lax lately.
“I’ll see
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