Act Like You Love Me (Jessica) novel Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Jessica’s POV

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I firmly locked the door of our huge unit and left. The final basketball game would begin soon, and I loved watching every single moment from the start.

I knew Aaron would be in a frustrated, pressured state, especially since one of his best players wouldn’t be on the court.

I hurried down the path toward the estate gate, my floral shorts swishing against my thighs with each step.

I’d paired them with a simple white basic top that hugged my curves just enough to feel feminine without trying too hard, and my hair was tossed up in a messy bun, a few strands escaping to frame my face.

For once, I didn’t care about hiding behind baggy sweats or an oversized hoodie.

The one person whose opinion truly mattered to me-Aaron-had made me feel beautiful and comfortable in my own

skin.

I literally didn’t give a damn what others thought about my large hips or thighs anymore. That physical security was a relief I hadn’t known I desperately needed.

As I reached the gate, a familiar figure caught my eye. Fallon was leaning casually against the wrought-iron fence, scrolling through her phone.

She looked effortlessly cool in a cropped graphic tee with some indie band logo splashed across it, high-waisted jeans that flared at the ankles, and chunky sneakers.

Her hair was in loose waves, a pair of oversized sunglasses perched on her head like a crown.

She looked up as I approached, her face lighting up with that infectious grin. We smiled and waved at each other like old friends reuniting after years, even.

“You could’ve just come in,” I said softly, feeling slightly guilty about making her wait in the relentless sun.

She waved it off with a bright smile, tucking her phone into her back pocket.

“Nah, I didn’t want to intrude. Besides, the view out here’s not bad.”

Was she always this happy? It was like nothing could dim her light-almost enviable, the way she floated through life without a cloud in sight.

We stepped out of the estate together, crossing the street to the taxi terminal. On a normal day, I’d walk the twenty minutes to campus, letting the rhythm of my steps clear my head. But today, the Florida sun was relentless, beating down like it had a personal grudge, and I couldn’t risk being late for tip-off.

We flagged down a cab, and slid into the back seat with a shared laugh. The driver cranked the AC, and we chatted lightly about nothing in particular.

By the time we pulled up to campus, the distant roar of cheers already vibrated through the air.

The place had transformed into a full-blown carnival: vendors hawking hot dogs and popcorn, booths selling tickets, custom jerseys, and wristbands in the colors of the competing teams.

“Green for Savannah College, red for Arcadia Hills!” one guy bellowed, waving fistfuls of bands like they were gold.

Banners fluttered in the breeze, music blasted from speakers, and the energy was electric- the final game of the season, a showdown that always drew crowds.

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Chapter 32

This game, according to Aaron, was his final one here in Arcadia before he dropped his part-time coaching gig and moved onto the next phase of his career.

He’d never lost a game in his five years of coaching, and I desperately hoped he wouldn’t lose it now. It was his last time; I needed it to end in a grand, successful style.

A victory would be a huge asset to his experience and would open doors for the Arcadia basketball players who were under his guidance, giving them that extra shine for scouts and future opportunities.

Fallon and I grabbed fruit punches from a stand, the tart, icy sweetness hitting just right in the heat, and snagged red wristbands to show our Arcadia loyalty.

We flashed them at the entrance and pushed into the stadium.

Roars and squeals echoed off the walls as the commentator hyped the crowd, his voice booming over the speakers: “And now, leading the Arcadia Hills Tigers… your coach, Aaron Tyrone!”

The place went feral-screams, stomps, chants of his name rippling through the stands. I couldn’t help but smile, my chest swelling with a pride that was intensely personal.

Somehow, amid the sea of faces, his eyes found mine from across the court. He was pacing the sidelines, clipboard in hand, and a focused intensity etched on his face.

I visibly froze in my spot, convinced my legs had been nailed to the floor.

I expected him to look away, play it cool like he always did in public. But no-he smirked, that signature cocky tilt to his lips, and winked right at me.

My cheeks burned, a flutter kicking up in my stomach.

The girls behind us lost it, shrieking like he’d just proposed. “Oh my god, did you see that? He winked at me!” one squealed.

Jealousy pricked at my chest, sharp and unwelcome.

But… what if it was truly for them? I mean, I didn’t have perfect eyesight, and my mind could be playing tricks, fueled by all the heated moments we’d shared lately: the kisses, the confessions, the way he’d held me like I was his world.

“Is it just me, or is Aaron Tyrone staring right at you?” Fallon’s hot breath in my ear brought me back to reality. I looked at her to find a teasing look in her eyes.

I gave a painfully awkward laugh and shook my head vehemently.

“Pfft. Of course not.” My voice stammered a bit, betraying me. “Come on, let’s find a spot.”

I grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward my usual corner perch-tucked away enough to watch without drawing attention,

but with a clear view of the action.

We settled in, the bench cool against my legs.

“So… you usually attend these?” Fallon asked as soon as we were comfy.

I nodded, sucking on my straw.

“Yeah, since I started at Arcadia. I’ve caught every game-both the intra-school ones and against other colleges.”

She nodded thoughtfully, digesting that.

“How about you?” I asked.

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Chapter 32

I come too, but not as often. This is my second time attending the season finals. You know? It’s my last summer as a college student, I should make good use of it.”

She giggled, and I did as well because I totally understood where she was coming from.

If it weren’t for the fact that I desperately wanted to support Aaron, I would never have been at an event like this.

I’d never been a sports fan growing up. I found it too loud, too chaotic-but he’d changed that.

Watching him coach, pouring his passion into the team, had made me fall in love with the game. Plus, he had no one else showing up for him-no family in the stands, no cheers just for him. I had to be that person.

The whistle blew, and the game exploded into motion. Players dashed across the court, sneakers squeaking, the ball thumping rhythmically.

Cheers erupted with every basket, the crowd a living entity-stomping, chanting, waving signs

Fallon was incredibly loud, cheering and stomping, and even pulled out her phone to start vlogging the atmosphere.

She tried hard to get me in the camera, but I ducked away, instinctively shying from the attention.

“Stop hiding, Jess!” she yelled over the crowd. “You’re beautiful, you shouldn’t shy away from the camera!”

I just laughed and shook my head, relieved when she respected my choice and focused the camera on the court.

The game was a brutal, physical back-and-forth. The tension of winning was excruciating. The Savannah College supporters were going absolutely apeshit, and the Arcadia Hills side was roaring back, refusing to let the noise die.

Every foul, every score, every turnover sent the crowd into madness.

Then, with only ten seconds left on the clock, the scoreboard flashed: 89 – 89. A tie. A brutal one.

I immediately saw the anxiety reflected in Aaron’s posture. He was pacing the sidelines like a caged animal, shouting instructions at the Arcadia players with desperate urgency.

He had so much trust in them, yet the frustration of the clock running out was clear on his face.

“Box out! Rotate!” he’d bellow, his hands gesturing wildly. My own nerves twisted; this was his legacy on the line.

I hoped he would look at me. And as if the universe heard my silent plea, his eyes flickered up, seeking a point of focus, and they landed right on mine.

I seized the moment, mouthing clearly: “I believe in you. Calm down.” I reinforced the words with a small, firm nod, concentrating all my support into that urgent, silent exchange.

The small smile that curled on his lips was instantly replaced by a fierce determination.

He nodded once-a sharp, almost imperceptible acknowledgment. Then, he turned back to the court, his body language visibly pumped up as he began encouraging his players for the final, critical possession.

The buzzer sounded. The ball went through the net.

91 – 89. Arcadia won.

The stadium exploded. The noise was deafening, primal. Everyone around me was going completely crazy, screaming and hugging strangers.

The Arcadia players rushed Aaron, engulfing him in a massive, celebratory hug, shouting their thanks.

Chapter 32

Then, they lifted him onto their shoulders, parading him around the court like a champion king.

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My face was split by a smile so hard it hurt. I was cheering and jumping, and in that pure, unadulterated moment of shared victory, I cried-tears of joy, relief, and immense pride for him. He was triumphant, free, and wildly successful,

But in that exact moment, watching him held aloft, bathed in the blinding light of the stadium, I remembered the cold, hard reality of Kennedy’s offer.

The offer that could destroy everything Aaron had just built.

And the sudden, horrifying truth broke my heart into a million pieces: I was the only person who knew the danger, and I was utterly powerless to stop it without risking the very man I was trying to save.

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13:12 Mon, Jan 12 J