Act Like You Love Me (Jessica) novel Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Jessica’s POV

“Take a break, we’ll reassemble in thirty,” Aaron’s smooth, commanding voice echoed across the court, cutting through the squeak of sneakers and the thud of basketballs.

The college players scattered like leaves in a gust, grabbing towels and water, their chatter filling the gym.

Aaron stayed rooted in the center, chugging from the bottle I’d slipped into his gym bag that morning. He is such a stubborn ass.

Earlier this morning, he’d grumbled about not needing it when I offered, but there he was, guzzling it down like it was liquid gold.

Lucky for him, my love made me a fool who’d bend over backward, even if he didn’t deserve it half the time.

I watched from the library’s massive window, perched on a stool with a forgotten textbook in my lap. The view overlooked the court perfectly, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from how he owned the space–barking orders, demonstrating shots with effortless sexiness.

Students hung on his every word, launching balls toward the hoop like disciples following a prophet.

Aaron coached part–time at Arcadia Hills College, a gig that always puzzled me until I pieced it together: he wanted to nurture the next generation, help them chase dreams like he was chasing his.

Soon, he’d ditch Florida for LA, signing with some top–tier team, and damn if I wasn’t rooting for him harder than anyone. I’d be glued to every game, cheering from afar.

Weird, right? Anyone sane would call me deranged because I was wishing the moon for the guy who’d tormented me since we were kids, chipping away at my confidence like it was his hobby.

But love doesn’t play by rules, especially not mine. Maybe I lost a screw when Mom died; her spirit taking a chunk of my sanity with her.

Loving Aaron was my beautiful madness.

“How does it feel sharing an apartment with him?”

The question yanked me from my reverie, and I yelped, flailing like a cartoon character.

My stool wobbled, and my forehead bumped the glass with a comedic thump. I clutched the thick curtains for balance, only for them to billow uselessly as I nearly face–planted,

“Oops! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you!” I rubbed the budding ache on my head and spun to face Debbie, the campus’s favorite punching bag for laughs.

If I was awkward in high school (and okay, maybe still a tad now), Debbie was the queen of geeks: frizzy dirty blonde hair escaping a messy ponytail, braces flashing with every word, coke–bottle glasses magnifying her wide eyes, acne–scarred skin, and that lanky height that made her tower over everyone like a giraffe in sneakers.

But strip away the world’s cruel beauty checklist, she was stunning in her own way: kind eyes, a warm vibe that peeked through if you bothered to look.

Society’s beauty standards were just a rigged game anyway. Superficial and impossible.

I managed a small smile, trying to shake off the embarrassment. “Hey, Debbie.”

She shyly mirrored it, her fingers twisting together, weight shifting from foot to foot like she was debating running away.

“How’d you know I live with him?” I asked, keeping my tone light.

She let out a nervous giggle, relaxing a fraction, probably sensing I wasn’t the judging type.

“It’s not exactly a secret…” She trailed off, squinting as she fished for my name.

“Jessica,” I supplied softly.

“Sorry.” She scratched the back of her neck, cheeks flushing. “So, are you guys, like… do you two, you know…” Her words fizzled out, but the implication hung there, awkward and prying.

I raised a brow, not thrilled. “Don’t you think that’s a weird thing to ask a stranger?”

Deep down, though, a twisted part of me wished it were true–that we were more than roommates, more than this endless push–pull.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” The air thickened with her discomfort, and I didn’t want to marinate in it.

Who knows what she’d blurt next? Maybe ask if we took a shit together or something equally mortifying.

“Thanks for saying hi, Debbie. See you around.”

I flashed another quick smile, grabbed my bag from the nearby chair, and slipped past her, escaping the library stuffy air.

Outside, I yanked my hood up, shielding my face, and kept my head down as I hustled across campus.

I was lost in a swirl of thoughts, eager to hole up in the apartment and lose myself in a book’s pages, forgetting the world for a bit.

Then, out of nowhere, a firm grip snagged my arm.

I barely had time to gasp before I was hauled sideways, yanked into a cramped, dimly lit space that smelled of chalk and old mops–a janitor’s closet?

The door slammed shut, and my back hit the wall with a thud, knocking the breath from my lungs.

“What the hell. Aaron?” I stammered, voice shaky, staring up at him like a deer in headlights.

My hands flattened on his chest, feeling the steady drum of his heart under taut muscle, while mine roared in my ears.

The closet shrank around us, walls closing in, air charged and suffocating.

“You weren’t at the court today. Why?” His voice dropped, eyes searching mine like he was digging for buried treasure.

I hesitated, caught in his gaze. “I had some research to do in the library,” I murmured, so softly that if we weren’t this close, the words would’ve dissolved into nothing.

He leaned in again, closer, my lips parting on instinct, breath hitching. But instead of the kiss, he tugged my hood off, letting my hair tumble free.

“I’ve told you to stop hiding under that thing, Jess. Why so stubborn?”

I blinked, the spell shattering, and pushed him away, harder this time, creating precious space.

“It’s my choice, Aaron. You don’t get a say in how I dress. You’re not my boyfriend.”

He arched a brow, that infuriating smirk curling his lips.

“Oh? Pretty sure I asked you to play the part just the other night. Jealous type might disagree.”

I rolled my eyes. Honestly, knowing Aaron had turned eye–rolling into my default response, more frequent than breathing.

“Fake girlfriend, genius.” I plastered on a sarcastic grin. “And FYI, your proposal sucked. No flowers, no charm…. zero effort. Ugh!”

He smiled, biting his lower lip, a move that drove me crazy.

“FYI? Seriously, Jess? What is this, 2025?” he teased, his tone playful and laced with laughter.

We stared, the tension crackling like static, until hallway chatter and footsteps filtered through the door, bursting the bubble.

“See you later, Aaron,” I whispered, turning to slip out.

“I’ll be crashing at Jason’s tonight,” he called after me. “Don’t bother making dinner for two. Oh, and I left my card, buy whatever you want for the trip tomorrow.”

I whipped my head around, but he was already facing away, tugging his Jersey off.

I stared a beat longer, then left. My heart echoed in my chest with every hurried step, and I wondered–would I ever catch my breath around him?