Zach
I’mgrippingthesteeringwheel as I glance over at Lainey, who’s sitting in the passenger seat, twirling a strand of her blonde hair around her finger. The sun is shining, and we’re on our way to the “Pucks & Pups” event—a dog adoption event hosted by a local shelter.
My team and I do this every year, and this time, Lainey is tagging along. Our second date, if you can even call it that. She looks great in her casual jeans and simple white tee, her hair pulled into a messy bun. Of course, I’d never admit that out loud.
“Zach,” she says suddenly, her tone hesitant.
I glance at her, my brow raised. “What is it, baby?”
Her eyes narrow, but the flush creeping up her cheeks betrays her annoyance. “Zach, no one is around. Stop calling me baby.”
“Why, baby? It’s great practice.” I say, leaning back casually against the seat, dragging the word out just to annoy her.
She lets out a dramatic sigh, rolling her eyes. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re adorable when you’re flustered. What’s up?”
Her fingers fidget with the hem of her shirt. “I kind of told Chloe about our fake dating.”
My grin falters. “You what?”
“At the golf tournament,” she adds quickly, her words rushing together.
“Lainey…” I draw out her name, my tone teetering between exasperation and disbelief.
“I panicked!” she says, throwing her hands in the air. “You left me alone with her! She’s my best friend, Zach. I can’t lie to her.”
I scoff, shaking my head. “She lied to you for eight years about Wyatt being Jasper’s dad.”
Lainey sits up straighter, glaring at me. “I knew, so that doesn’t count.”
“Great,” I mutter, focusing back on the road as the light flickers to yellow for the cross-traffic. “Now Wyatt’s going to know.”
“She promised me she wouldn’t tell anyone,” Lainey says, her voice softening into an apologetic tone.
I glance at her, letting the weight of silence settle for a moment. “Just like you promised we’d keep this a secret?”
Her lips press into a guilty pout. “Okay, you’re right. I’m sorry.” She bats her lashes at me, her big blue eyes shining like she’s about to ask for a puppy.
I don’t take the bait, keeping my gaze fixed on the light.
She leans over, grabbing my arm. “Will you forgive me, baby?”
That does it. A laugh escapes me, and I shake my head. “Okay. I can’t stay mad at you, baby.”
She perks up, her face lighting up with relief—until I add, “Hearing you call me baby made it all better.”
She narrows her eyes, her hands landing on her hips. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you love it.”
“You forgive me?”
“Almost,” I say with a smirk. “But since we’re sharing secrets…” I glance at her out of the corner of my eye. “I told Wyatt.”
Her jaw drops, and she stares at me in disbelief. “What?”
“Yup,” I say, popping the “p” as I slow down for the next light. “Mentioned it to him at practice the other day.”
