Chapter 7 7

MASON'S POV

Four times in my life I've put on a suit. Two funerals, one gala my mom guilted me into, and now this  a dinner apparently more high-stakes than the actual championship.

I catch my reflection one last time, wincing at the bruise still sitting on my jaw. My roommate caught me covering it with my sister's old concealer an hour ago and hasn't stopped laughing about it since.

"You look like you're about to go to war," Josh says, watching me fix my tie for the third time.

"I am."

"It's salmon and Coach's speech about brotherhood, man. Nobody's dying tonight."

"You don't know Chloe Kingston."

He laughs. I'm not really joking. Tonight's not about the food. It's about walking in with Chloe beside me and making sure every single person in that room  Austin most of all  believes it's real.

My phone buzzes.

Chloe: Outside. Don't be weird about this.

Me: Can't promise anything.

I step out and almost lose the ability to speak, which is a problem since talking's usually my thing.

She's in deep green, some fabric that fits like it was tailored just for tonight, hair loose over one shoulder. She's carrying herself different  chin up, spine straight, like she's already decided she's winning whatever's waiting inside.

"You scrub up fine," she says, checking me over.

"You scrub up dangerous."

A flicker crosses her face  surprise, maybe, at the lack of my usual sarcasm. She resets fast, slipping back into cool. "Let's just get through this."

"Careful," I say, holding my arm out. "You're supposed to look happy to date me, not like you're walking to a firing squad."

She breathes in, rolls her shoulders, and when she looks up, her whole face has shifted  warm, soft, completely gone for me. Unsettlingly convincing. "Better?"

"Terrifying."

"Told you I can act."

We walk in like that. Her hand at my elbow. The second we cross into the hall, heads turn. Conversation stalls. Somebody actually gasps out loud.

Exactly the reaction we wanted.

I clock Tyler first  bar, drink already in his hand, eyes narrowing the moment he clocks his sister's fingers on my arm. Not happy. Not swinging either. I'll count that as a win.

Then Austin.

Head table, sharp suit, an easy smile switched on for the boosters circling him. That smile drops the second he sees us. Barely a flicker  there, then gone  but I catch it. So does Chloe, from the way her grip tightens.

"Showtime," she breathes.

We work the room. Teammates. Boosters delighted to meet the captain's suddenly very serious girlfriend. Chloe's seamless  laughing on cue, hand on my chest at the right jokes, looking up at me like I hung the stars whenever someone glances our way.

It's convincing. Too convincing. Convincing enough that twice I have to remind myself none of this is real.

We've just sat down when Austin drifts over, drink in hand, smile back in place.

"Chloe." Smooth voice. Careful. "Beautiful as always."

"Austin." Steady. I half expected her to toss her drink at him  impressive restraint. "Didn't realize you'd be this close."

"Small room." His eyes cut to me, warmth gone instantly. "Hayes."

"Hastings."

"Didn't have you down as the settling type."

"People change." I stretch my arm along the back of Chloe's chair  casual, deliberate, possessive. "Found my reason to."

His jaw tightens. Something raw crosses his face  not jealousy exactly, more like he genuinely can't process her moving on this fast, this loud, with me specifically.

"Mind if I steal her a second?" He's talking past me completely. "Just to talk."

"No," Chloe says, sweetly lethal. "You can't."

His eyes narrow. "Chloe"

"She said no." I keep it level, though something sharp coils tight in my chest at how his voice dips low and insistent, like he's still got a claim on her. "Read the room."

For a second I think he's going to blow the whole night open in front of half the program's donors. Instead he forces a smile, mumbles something about catching up later, and retreats  not without a look that promises this isn't finished.

Chloe lets out a breath beside me. "That felt good."

"You were good."

"We were good." She glances at me, something almost grateful there. "Thanks. For having my back."

"That's the arrangement, right?"

"Right." Something flickers, gone before I can name it. "The arrangement."

Dinner blurs into small talk, though I catch Austin watching our table more than any well-adjusted person should. Dessert arrives, Coach stands for his toast  brotherhood, sacrifice, the season ahead  glasses rise around the room.

That's when Josh, three drinks deep and grinning like an idiot, shouts across the hall. "Speech from the captain and his girl! Don't hold out, Hayes!"

The room takes up the chant. Chloe shoots me a look of pure panic.

"Wing it," I murmur, pulling her up beside me.

"I hate you," she whispers, still smiling.

"Love you too, Trouble," I say, loud enough for the whole table, and the room roars.

No speech prepared, obviously. So I do the only thing that feels right  tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, lean in close enough the whole room holds its breath.

"For the cameras," I murmur against her mouth.

"For the cameras," she echoes, barely a whisper.

Then I kiss her.

Meant to be quick. Convincing but brief  exactly the staged shot we planned. Except her lips move against mine and something in my head just cuts out, and instead of pulling back on cue, I don't. Her hand grips the front of my shirt. Mine finds her waist. The room, the phones, Austin's stare  all of it goes silent.

When we finally separate, we're both breathing harder than any staged kiss should cause.

The room explodes  whistling, applause, a flash going off somewhere, some phone locking this in for tomorrow's rumor mill. Chloe's flushed, eyes wide. Neither of us says anything for a beat.

"That," she finally manages, "wasn't the plan."

"No," I agree, voice rougher than intended. "It wasn't."

Before either of us can sit with that, a chair screeches violently. Austin's on his feet, face thunderous, his glass shattered at his shoes.

"Everything alright?" I call out, not bothering to hide the satisfaction.

He doesn't answer. Just stares  at her fist still balled in my shirt, at the color still in her cheeks  then turns and storms out, the doors slamming hard enough to rattle glass.

Chloe watches him go, something complicated crossing her face before I can read it.

"Chloe." Quieter now, just for her. "You okay?"

She looks back, and whatever just passed between us  the kiss, the room, the fact that neither of us pulled away  is still sitting there, unsaid, in the space between us.

"I don't know," she admits. "Check back later."

That's when my phone buzzes. I almost let it go. Then I glance down and my stomach drops.

Unknown: Careful, Mason. Some secrets don't stay buried. Ask Chloe how this really started.

I stare at it, pulse suddenly loud in my ears.

Someone already knows.

CHLOE'S POV

CRACKS

"Let me see," I say the moment we clear the banquet hall, heart still pounding from the kiss, from Austin's face, from the last ten minutes in general.

Mason hands the phone over without a word. I read it twice, then a third time, as if the words might rearrange into something less terrifying.

Careful, Mason. Some secrets don't stay buried. Ask Chloe how this really started.

"Okay." Steadier than I feel. "Who actually knew? Not guessed  knew, for real."

"You, me, Sam." He drags a hand down his jaw, working through the same list I am. "That's everyone on my end."

"Same." I bite my lip, glancing back at the party still going, unaware of the small disaster unfolding twenty feet away. "Unless one of us let something slip."

"I didn't."

"Neither did I." I hand the phone back, arms crossed like that'll hold the panic in. "Could just be a guess. Someone fishing."

"Or someone actually knows." His jaw sets. "Timing's too clean, Chloe. Right after the kiss. Right when it started looking real."

Real.

The word just sits there, heavier than it should be given what we agreed to twelve hours ago. I think about his hand on my waist, the fact that neither of us pulled back, and shove the thought down before it becomes something I don't have room for tonight.

"We stick to the plan," I say. "Deny everything. If someone's got proof, they'll show it eventually. Until then we stay calm."

"You're calm?"

"Panicking internally." I shrug. "Doesn't help to panic out loud."

Something like respect flashes over his face before he buries it under the usual smirk. "Look at you. Cool under fire."

"Lots you don't know about me, Hayes."

"Clearly." His eyes hold on mine a beat too long, and the air shifts into something that has nothing to do with fake dating. Then his phone buzzes again, and whatever that was breaks instantly.

He checks it. Face goes dark. "Tyler. Wants to talk. Now."

My stomach drops. "About the text?"

"About us." He pockets the phone. "Better to face him now."

We find Tyler outside by the lot, pacing, jacket off, sleeves shoved up like he's gearing up for round two of last night. He spots our joined hands  I hadn't even noticed we were still holding on  and his face hardens further.

"So it's real," he says. Not a question.

"Tyler"

"Don't." He raises a hand, and under the anger I finally see it. Hurt. "You kissed him in front of the whole team. Coach. Austin. And now you're just  together? Since when?"

"Since last night," Mason says, even. "It's new. We were working out how to tell you."

"By making out at a team dinner?" His voice climbs. "You know what this does to the locker room? Austin's my teammate. He sits across from you every day while you're dating his ex."

"Not my problem," Mason says, flint sliding into his voice. "Should've thought of that before he cheated on her."

The words land like a slap. Tyler goes rigid beside me.

"What did you just say?"

Oh no.

Mason's eyes cut to me a half-second too late. Tyler's gaze swings to me, searching, and I watch it click together behind his eyes.

"Chloe." Quieter now  worse than shouting. "What's he talking about?"

I could lie. Deflect. Buy myself time to say it gently. But looking at my brother's face  confused, hurt, already bracing  I'm just tired. Tired of carrying it alone since my birthday. Tired of smiling through it.

"Austin cheated on me," I say quietly. "With Cole. I saw them. In his car. The night of my birthday, while you were all inside waiting for me to bring the cake back out."

The silence after is the loudest thing I've ever heard.

"You're lying," Tyler says, with no conviction behind it  just hope.

"I wish I were."

"Chloe." His voice cracks. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you'd have done something stupid. Because he's your teammate, your friend, and I didn't want to wreck the team before championships. Because I was humiliated and I didn't know how to say it without falling apart."

He's quiet a long moment, jaw working, eyes bright with something between fury and grief.

"He's going to pay for this," he finally says, low and dangerous.

"Tyler, don't"

But he's already moving, already walking back toward the hall with a purpose that scares me, and I know exactly where this is headed.

"Tyler, wait!" I Mason after him, Mason right behind me, but he doesn't slow, doesn't look back, just shoves through the doors like a man with one job left.

The room's still loud with music when we burst back in. It takes Tyler three seconds to spot Austin at the bar, laughing with a booster like nothing in his world is on fire.

"Hey." Tyler's voice cuts flat through the noise. "We need to talk. Now."

Austin turns, smile faltering. "Everything good, man?"

"Cole." Loud enough that heads start turning. "Chloe's birthday. Explain it. Now."

Color drains from Austin's face fast enough that it'd be satisfying if I weren't frozen in the doorway, watching my worst night blow up in public for the second time this week.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Austin says, voice already cracking  I watch him realize in real time the lie isn't landing.

"Don't." Tyler's fists clench. "Don't lie to my face."

The room's gone dead silent. Every conversation stopped, every head turned. I spot Cole near the dessert table, going pale as she clocks what's about to happen.

"Tyler," Austin tries, "let's take this somewhere"

"You cheated on my sister." His voice cuts through the quiet like a blade. "With Cole. On her birthday. While she was inside waiting for you to bring back her cake."

Someone gasps. Phones are already rising around the room, catching every second of it.

Austin's mouth opens. Closes. Opens again.

"I didn't," he finally says.

Tyler goes still. "Don't insult me. I know what my sister saw."

"I'm not denying I was in that car." Austin's voice is shaking now, but not with guilt  with something closer to fear. "I'm telling you it wasn't me she saw with Cole. It was me finding out about them  together. I walked in on it. I never touched her that night."

The room tilts sideways.

"Them?" Tyler's voice has gone very quiet. "Who's them?"

Austin doesn't answer with words. He just looks past Tyler's shoulder, straight at me  and then past me, toward the doorway, where Cole is standing frozen beside Cole, his hand resting on the small of her back like it belongs there.

Every phone in the room turns.

I never saw them together once. Not at the party. Not after. I was so sure it was Austin's face I remembered in that car window that I never once stopped to ask whose hands were actually on Cole that night  because Cole made sure I only ever saw what he wanted me to see.

Which means the person who's known the real story since the very beginning isn't some stranger with a burner number.

It's the same person who's been standing three feet behind me all night.