Chapter 36: Are We Still Pretending?

Chapter 36: Chapter 36: Are We Still Pretending?

The training office was a cramped, utilitarian space. It smelled of old coffee, cleaning supplies, and the faint, lingering scent of grass and sweat. The only light came from a flickering fluorescent strip on the ceiling, casting long, sharp shadows across the metal filing cabinets.

They stood on opposite sides of the small room. The door was shut, muffling the distant, rhythmic sound of the team running drills on the pitch.

For almost thirty seconds, neither of them spoke.

Finally, Mason broke the silence. He shifted his weight, his eyes locked on the floor. "You said you were looking for me."

Audrey nodded, clutching the strap of her bag. "I was."

Another silence, tighter than the first.

Audrey felt the words bubbling up, heavy and jagged. She didn’t want to play the journalist. She didn’t want to play the intern. She just wanted to be honest.

"I’m sorry," she blurted out.

Mason frowned, looking up at her. "For what?"

Audrey let out a short, nervous laugh. "Pick one."

"Running away," she listed, ticking it off on her fingers. "Avoiding you. Pretending I wasn’t avoiding you."

She expected him to nod. She expected him to say, Yeah, that was annoying.

Instead, Mason surprised her. He stepped a few inches closer, his expression softening.

"You don’t have to apologize for needing time," he said quietly.

Audrey looked up, stunned. "Really?"

"You set a boundary," he said. "And I asked a question you weren’t ready to answer. Those aren’t the same thing."

Audrey felt her breath catch. That was it. That was the core of why he was different from everyone else. He didn’t demand an answer. He didn’t make her feel guilty for needing to breathe.

Then, Audrey found herself speaking before she could stop.

"Elena... she said you walked her home. Every night."

Mason nodded slowly. "Yeah."

"She said you remembered all her exams. That you brought her coffee."

Mason tilted his head. "Yeah."

There was a tiny, sharp pause. Audrey felt the weight of it.

"You were a good boyfriend," Audrey said. It was a statement of fact, not an accusation.

Mason shrugged, a small, self-deprecating smile touching his lips. "I tried."

Audrey looked at him, her heart thumping against her ribs. She had to know. She had to be the journalist one last time to clear the board.

"Can I ask something?"

Mason leaned against the edge of a filing cabinet, crossing his arms. "Sure."

Audrey hesitated. She almost changed her mind, but the words were already out.

"How many girls have you dated?"

Mason blinked. He stared at her, genuinely caught off guard. "...That’s your question?"

Audrey immediately felt the heat rise in her cheeks. She waved a hand dismissively. "I mean... you don’t have to answer if it’s too personal. It’s just—journalistic curiosity."

"No," Mason said, shaking his head. "I’m just... surprised."

He looked at the ceiling, thinking for a second.

"Claire," he started, ticking off a finger. "Elena. Zoey. Emma. And Hannah."

He looked back down at her. "Five."

Audrey froze. "Five?"

"Yeah. Five."

Audrey blinked. She had been expecting a list that went on for paragraphs. "You’ve only dated five girls?"

Mason folded his arms, looking slightly offended. "Yeah. What, do I look that unemployed?"

Audrey let out a genuine, startled laugh. "The confession page makes it sound like you have a waiting list."

Mason stared at her, his expression unreadable. "I value my time, Audrey. I don’t just fill seats."

Audrey looked down, feeling the sudden intimacy of the small, cramped room. "Did you... love any of them?"

Mason didn’t answer immediately. He went quiet, looking away toward the small, barred window. He actually thought about it.

"I cared about all of them," he finally said. "I respected them. I liked spending time with them. I wanted them to be happy."

Another pause.

"Love?" he searched for the words, his voice dropping into a raspy whisper. "I don’t think so."

Audrey looked up, her pulse racing. He wasn’t trying to sound cool or detached. He genuinely meant it.

"I thought I knew what falling for someone felt like," Mason said quietly. He looked down at his hands. "Turns out... I didn’t."

Audrey’s heart seemed to stop completely.

Then, Mason tilted his head, his eyes sharpening with a sudden, dangerous curiosity.

"Why?" he asked. "Were you keeping count?"

Audrey panicked, her face burning.

"Journalistic curiosity."

Mason looked at her for a long moment.

"...You’ve never been a very good liar, Ellis."

"Why are you doing all those things for me?" Audrey asked, her voice dropping to a whisper. "The fries. The bags. The cereal bar."

The room went silent.

Mason looked at her, his expression raw.

"I don’t know," he admitted.

Audrey blinked.

He laughed once, a tired, frustrated sound. "That’s the problem. I don’t know when I started. I just... noticed things."

He started pacing the small space, gesturing as he spoke.

"You skip breakfast. You get headaches when you edit too long. You eat fries before burgers. You smile differently when you’re talking about football. And when you’re nervous..."

He paused, his dark eyes dropping to her hands.

"...you start playing with your pen."

Audrey instinctively looked down.

Her fingers were frantically clicking the top of her blue daisy pen. She hadn’t even realized she had pulled it out of her bag.

That tiny moment silently told her everything she needed to know. He had been watching her for a very long time.

He stopped, realizing he was rambling, and rubbed the back of his neck.

"...See?" he sighed. "I’m doing it again."

Audrey just stared at him. He genuinely didn’t realize how intimate that sounded.

"I’m sorry," Mason said, his voice quiet. "About Saturday. About the kiss."

Audrey shook her head firmly. "You already apologized."

"I know," he said."I’m apologizing because when I think about Saturday..."

He paused.

"...the part that bothers me isn’t the kiss."

Audrey looked up.

"It’s that you looked scared afterward."

Audrey’s eyes stung. Not because she was sad—but because nobody had ever apologized for that. Nobody had ever cared enough to wonder if she felt safe.

"Can I ask you something?" Mason asked quietly.

Audrey laughed, a wet, choked sound. "You ask that a lot."

He smiled faintly. "Because I’m trying not to make assumptions anymore."

He looked at her, his gaze steady and terrifyingly earnest.

"Are we still pretending?"

Silence.

Audrey couldn’t answer. Not because she didn’t know—but because she finally did. She just wasn’t brave enough to say the words out loud.

Just as her mouth opened to speak, the office door flew open with a sharp thwack against the wall.

"Calloway!"

Coach Miller stood in the doorway, his whistle dangling around his neck, looking like a man who had zero patience left for personal drama.

"Ellis!"

Coach Miller glanced between them, his eyes narrowing as he took in the heavy, charged silence of the small office.

"If you two are finished solving world peace," Coach Miller barked, "practice starts in thirty seconds. Get out there!"

The spell shattered instantly.

Mason stepped back, his expression snapping into the familiar, composed mask of the captain. Audrey stumbled back, her heart still racing, her head spinning with everything that had been said and everything that remained unsaid.

They didn’t look at each other. They didn’t speak.

They just walked out of the office and onto the pitch, side by side.

The fake relationship hadn’t changed.

The rumors hadn’t changed.

The rules hadn’t changed.

But the silence between them wasn’t empty anymore.