Keeping Casey (Keeping Him #1) - Amy Aislin Page 0,17

what he wants you to see. The helpful team captain, the star player, the dedicated son, the concerned older brother.”

“Why the one-eighty then?” Theo asked. “Why would he say all that bullshit about gay players right in front of us?”

“You’d have to ask him.”

Theo curled his lip. “No thanks.”

There was more there that Harkrader wasn’t saying, some past history with Britton. Now wasn’t the time to ask.

Casey bumped his shoulder with Ethan’s again. “So we’re doing this?”

Why was he pushing it when it was such a bad idea? As if he wasn’t in love with Ethan already, now he’d have free rein to touch him, to hold his hand, to kiss him.

Only when in Britton’s presence, but still.

God. Casey couldn’t decide if he wanted Ethan to go for it or put the kibosh on the idea entirely. The former would mean a level of intimacy they’d never shared. The latter would be safer. Much, much safer.

But fuck, Casey wanted it more than he wanted his next breath.

In the light of the nearest streetlight, Ethan’s eyes glittered. “Are you sure about this?”

Casey nodded.

“Okay. I guess we’re doing this.”

Butterflies had a party in Casey’s stomach and he had to stop himself from bouncing on his toes. “Don’t sound too excited.”

Ethan snorted a laugh.

“This should be interesting,” Theo said to Harkrader.

“Can we go to The Bean Bag now?” Ethan asked. “I’m starving.”

They’d barely started walking, Theo wondering out loud if they could still get food at this hour, when Ethan paused, glancing around. Casey and Theo stopped too.

Harkrader stood motionless where they’d left him.

Casey bit his lip, waiting, knowing that, thus far, Harkrader hadn’t endeared himself to either of his fellow freshmen.

Reaching out, Ethan snagged Harkrader’s wrist and towed him along with a brief, “Come on.”

A fake boyfriend.

How had Ethan ended up in this situation? If he didn’t want a real boyfriend, he certainly didn’t want a fake one.

Well, he only wanted a real one if it was Casey. That Casey was now his pretend boyfriend was strange. What had Casey been thinking? Fake boyfriends, god. Add it to the top of a long list called Casey’s Bad Ideas. Also on the list was the time a seven-year-old Casey had crafted him a Christmas ornament made out of pickles, and the time a year or so later when he’d thought melting their action figures in the microwave was a smart plan.

Sitting at a table at The Bean Bag with Casey, Theo, and Harkrader, Ethan fidgeted in his seat as he ate his butternut squash salad, uncomfortable in his own skin. It felt stretched taut to the point of pain, like his bones were too big for his body.

Why was he freaking out about this? It had been Casey’s suggestion and he seemed perfectly on board. Wouldn’t it affect his dating life, though? Surely Casey didn’t want to be tied down. He was the one who was so against commitment, after all. Wouldn’t he miss hooking up? Did he plan to still do so even though they were pretending to be together?

The thought weirded him out for some reason. Truth was, though, that Casey could do whatever he wanted. They were only keeping up the pretense in front of Britton, and Casey was right—that wouldn’t be very often. When Casey came over to the House, they usually hung out in his room with Theo.

There were things they’d have to figure out before they saw Britton again. Like how touchy-feely they were going to get with each other and what kind of kisses were okay. On the cheek? On the lips? What lines did Casey not want to cross?

Hell, what lines did Ethan not want to cross?

Teeth clenched, he grabbed his water glass only to find it empty.

What was the point of any of this if it wasn’t real?

With a sigh, he set his glass back down and ignored Casey’s concerned side-eyed glances. He was fine. Everything was fine. He was just going to be fake boyfriends with the guy he’d wanted to be real boyfriends with for years. Nothing could possibly go wrong.

Other sounds finally filtered in as he took in his surroundings. The Bean Bag was a cool place. A mix of long picnic-like tables, high-top tables, booths, and comfy armchairs, the walls were painted a cheery yellow, and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the campus quad. It served everything from breakfast sandwiches to soups to salads to paninis and was the one place on campus Ethan knew he’d find something healthy to eat. It