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Nina giggled. “I think someone has a crush.”
I swatted at her with the newly written act three. “Do not. That’s the exact opposite point of the project. We are dating to explain that the show doesn’t work. You can’t force two people to like each other on these dates.”
“I’m the Love Match expert, and I’m telling you it’s real. Toby and Roxanne were soul mates and so were Dave and Maddie. That show makes happy couples—it’s the real deal.”
“You can go on thinking that, but for this project, I need to disprove it.”
“So are you saying you would date him if you could?”
I paused. The question had been ricocheting in my mind since my first motorcycle ride with Beau. I didn’t want Nina to make me think about this anymore.
“No. Stop twisting my words, matchmaker. Besides, Beau is too busy checking things off his bucket list to date anyone.”
“What’s he working on now?”
“Well, today he’s playing in an intramural tournament to win a T-shirt. Dumb, right?”
“He’s in a championship?” Nina looked shocked.
“Yeah, so?”
“London, that’s a big deal. Why aren’t you going?”
“Wait, you understand that we are fake dating, right? I’m not actually his girlfriend. The blog, the dates, it’s all for the project.”
“Whatever. You need to get your fake girlfriend ass over to that tournament and cheer for him. It’s a big deal to get one of those shirts.”
I held up the script. “I have work to do here. I’m the only one who can learn my new lines for act three. I have responsibilities.”
“I’ll take care of the tyrant.” Nina motioned to Derek, who was flailing his arms in the air. “You go have fun. Cheer for your fake boyfriend.”
Maybe her suggestion wasn’t so absurd. I could go to the game for a few minutes. Just for moral group partner support. I jumped off the couch, forgetting for a second the headache that had plagued me all morning.
“Thanks, girl.”
“London, wait. Where are you going?” I heard Derek call for me.
I turned toward him as he ran across the basement. “Talk to Nina. Seriously, Derek. Go talk to her.”
“But I thought we were going to work on the material I wrote for you.”
“I’ll be back later. I have somewhere I have to go. Don’t worry. I’m coming back.”
I raced up the stairs and straight to Woolen Gym before he could guilt me into changing my mind.
“Hey. What are you doing here?” A glistening Beau smiled at me. This was the first time I noticed that a hot and sweaty guy wasn’t completely gross. Especially one who smiled like that.
“Is that one of those famous T-shirts? Can I see it?”
Beau tossed the shirt at me and I held it up to admire. “Wow. Pretty awesome. Congratulations. You checked another thing off your list.” I was used to praising my costars, but I wasn’t sure what to say to an intramural athlete.
“Thanks. This one means a lot. Let me see that.” He jerked the victory shirt out of my hands.
In slow motion, Beau peeled his sticky, gray T-shirt from his torso, pulling it over his head while giving me a full visual of all the muscles I thought might exist under there. He fidgeted with the zipper on his gym bag before stashing the wet shirt in a side pocket. He didn’t seem to mind standing on the drafty basketball court half naked. I did my best to keep my jaw from dropping.
“Dude. We finally got one.” One of the other players walked up and slapped Beau on the back.
“Yeah, man. It was a longtime coming.” Beau slipped the dry shirt on over his head.
