Page 80 of Fake Crown

Warmth sweeps across my body, and I long to stare at the photo and reread the caption a thousand times.

“You cannot melt after one latte, one post, and a bunch of half-assed comment replies,” Destiny says. “You gotta milk this till the teats run dry.”

“Melting?” I scoff. “No one is melting.” Perhaps a slight thawing, but there will be no melting. I snatch my phone off the counter, and I send Brent a text.

Try harder.

Almost immediately, I get a response. Challenge accepted. The best you’ve ever had, Jensen. Except now it’s not just in bed.

The trolls will come for you.

Let them try. Val isn’t the only one who can craft a love story. 😉

I trace my finger over the word love before closing my phone with a decisive click. Destiny is right. One post, a few responses to trolls, and one latte doesn’t solve the bigger issue. When I asked him to defend me, he stood by in silence.

For the next week, lattes are delivered to me all over campus, but never by Brent. His roommate, members of the men’s and women’s basketball teams, swimmers on the team, Sebastian Swan and his girlfriend Natalie, and other people who I’ve never seen before. It’s an endless parade of caffeinated drinks. At least three a day, and sometimes more.

Each latte has a slip of paper attached. Sometimes the slip has a complete message on it, and sometimes it’s one to add to the wall of words in my bedroom. You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. Your punny sense of humor is the best. This is real for me.

The last one gets me every time I read it—a mantra I was stupid enough to stick to my wall to see every day.

On top of that, he’s posted a photo of the two of us to all his accounts each day. The captions are simple, but they are little fires under my frosty heart, warming it an inch at a time.

Destiny stares at the latest post over my shoulder. “I didn’t realize these teats had so much milk in them.”

“Doesn’t change that he didn’t do it when I asked.” I click my phone closed.

“That’s true. I’m so glad you’ve never made a mistake in your life, and you always do what people ask of you right away. Otherwise, that comment would be embarrassing.” Destiny swipes one of my lattes off the island and takes a long sip. “This tea is good.”

I can’t help the chuckle that escapes. “Have you switched sides? You’re supposed to tell your friend when you’ve crossed over to make yourself some tea in the enemy’s trenches.”

She gives me a helpless look and shrugs. “I cannot deny the boy is working his ass off to get you back.”

“He’s doing all of it from a distance, though.” At the start of the week, that wouldn’t have been a complaint. But there’s something about being surrounded by Brent-like things that’s making me crave him more than if he’d left me completely alone. “Ethan delivered my latte today after swim practice, and he smelled like Brent.”

“Like a pool.”

“Yes! Like chlorine. Chlorine is not sexy. Why is chlorine sexy? Why?”

“I’m going to say this real slow for your brain cells in the back.” She holds her hand up to emphasize each word as she says it. “It’s because you like the guy who is attached to that chlorine smell.”

I do like the guy attached to the chlorine smell, and there’s a chance, however much I don’t want it to be true, that I miss him. A lot.

“You think what he’s done is enough?” I ask.

“That’s not a question I can answer. You’re the one he didn’t support, the one he hurt. Does it feel like enough to you?”

My home screen flashes with a new notification. Since Brent started posting photos of us everywhere with cute captions, I turned my push notifications back on. At first, I was sure it was a stupid move. Instead, what I’ve found is Brent on social media like it’s his job. As soon as anyone posts a negative comment about me anywhere, he’s there defending me or explaining or apologizing for any confusion his initial silence caused. His account must be out of control with notifications, but he’s made sure that everything I can possibly see, he’s commented on it. I don’t even know how he’s doing it because he trains a lot and he hadn’t missed a single comment.

“Brent can’t keep defending me on social media for the next few months while we’re still at Northern,” I say. “It’s not sustainable.”

“That sounds like you are contemplating a real relationship.” Destiny smirks.

A real relationship still scares the shit out of me, but if I’m honest, Brent and I were pretty much in one before that viral video blew us up. We spent a lot of time together doing things couples would do, and I didn’t mind one bit. Would even go so far as to say I enjoyed it.

“He tried to talk to Val, right?” Destiny asks.

“Yeah,” I say. “He said it didn’t go well, but he didn’t elaborate. She obviously used his appearance to spin another narrative instead.” I fiddle with my phone, an idea on the edges of my consciousness that I’m not sure I want to follow. “Should I go talk to her?”