“Max,” I breathed, my heart fluttering.
He gazed up at me. “Sunny Blaine, will you marry me?”
The stadium went wild. In a daze, I looked up at the Jumbotron and felt like I was watching this happen to someone else. Camera phones flashed all around us.
My first clear thought was I’ll kill him.
Aloud, nothing came out but a faint wheeze. Clearly someone had stuffed a giant wad of cotton in my mouth. Clearly I needed something a lot stiffer to drink than this Diet Coke. Clearly my fake boyfriend was a freaking raving lunatic.
He sent Mimi a grin—as if to say I really got her, didn’t I, and she handed him a black box. My eyes flared as I looked from her to him. Had he . . . had she? Good God, they were in cahoots. Which explained why she’d been jittery when I picked her up earlier. She kept patting the big purse she always carried, and even on the way over to the stadium I caught her poking through it a few times. I’d just figured she was nervous about meeting Max. Apparently they’d already met.
Mimi squeezed my hand. “He called me last night and asked to come over. He asked for my approval . . . can you believe it? What a gentleman. Of course, I said yes. He’s a keeper, Sunny.” Her eyes glowed. Freaking GLOWED.
The box opened, and my stomach churned at the sight of the large round solitaire diamond ring that was nestled on the black silk. I blinked repeatedly to clear my vision.
With deft fingers, Max eased it out of the lining and slipped it on my left hand.
I stared down at it. Then back at him.
Kiss her, Kiss her, the crowd chanted.
We were the focal point of the entire world.
Max stood and tugged me up with him until we were standing. He slid his hand around my neck and pulled his face to mine. The sky was blotted out as he kissed me.
But I hadn’t said yes! I wouldn’t say yes. Not to a fake engagement.
The applause of the stadium was deafening. And his kiss—it was deadly. Despite my rage, my body craved him. His lips were hot, so hot, and my tongue met his with a vengeance. We kissed hard, and I nipped at him, my teeth scraping across his lips. But the only one who’d end up bleeding in this scenario was me.
He eased back to take me in, and with a final look at my face he gave a thumbs-up sign to the entire stadium. They went nuts, chanting his name.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered in my ear, letting his hand trail down my arm as he stepped back from me. He walked away backward, eyes on me the entire time. The announcers for the game told everyone who might have missed it that Max Kent had just asked his girlfriend to marry him, and she’d said yes. More cheers came as they replayed him on his knee in front of me with a giant YES written across the top.
I plopped back down in my seat. Frozen.
“ . . . did you see her face? Shocked . . .”
“ . . . most romantic thing in football . . .”
“ . . . luckiest girl in the world . . .”
My face went hot. Even my ears burned. I wanted to crawl under a seat. I felt like such a liar.
“You’re gonna be okay, hon. Just take a breath,” Mimi whispered as the Jumbotron finally moved away from me. “Don’t be embarrassed. It’s sweet the way he proposed . . . he wanted everyone to know he’d found the girl of his dreams.”
“Is that what he said?” My voice was barely a whisper.
Mimi beamed. “He said the moment he saw you, it was meant to be.” She sighed and looked over to him, his back to us as he watched the kick-off on the field. “I’ve worried so much about you since that Bart fellow, but Max is going to make you happy, Sunny. He’s the calm in your chaos.”
The calm in my chaos . . .
God.
What a lie.
If I’d thought I was angry before, I was wrong. He’d end up hurting Mimi when the charade ended. She’d be disappointed in me, in him, and her love of football would probably be tarnished.
Didn’t he ever think about anyone but himself?
I exhaled. “Mimi, there’s something I should tell you . . .”
My phone pinged with a text. Isabella.
OMG. WTH just happened?
Max Kent asked me to marry him, I replied.
DUH. The whole world saw that. I just picked my jaw up off the ground.
I’m going to kill him, I added.
Why?
One word . . . Heisman. I typed out furiously, my fingers flying.
I admit it. I swooned a little. I’ll be his fiancée if you won’t.
Max threw to Tate in a twenty-five-yard touchdown, but I barely noticed. I seethed.
Come sit with Mimi and take her home after the game. I have to go, I sent her.
Won’t it look weird if you leave the game?
His problem, I texted. I can’t stay here. I was going to cry. Tears pricked at my eyes at his deception, itching to fall, and I knew that once that dam burst, I’d have a hard time explaining why I was so upset.