Fake Dating the Billionaire Jock

My boyfriend is kissing another woman on the giant stadium screen.

The Kiss Cam has them in its spotlight.

The entire arena sees it.

Thousands of strangers are watching.

They’re in the VIP section.

Without the camera, I’d never have spotted them from here.

My seat is the farthest one.

The cheapest ticket I could afford.

The woman looks wealthy.

Her hair is that perfect, sun-kissed blonde.

Her outfit screams designer.

She looks like she stepped off a magazine cover.

I wouldn’t believe it if I wasn’t seeing it.

Caleb.

My Caleb.

Doing this to me.

My hands clench around the banner in my lap.

It reads ‘Go Caleb!’ in bold letters.

Tonight is his debut as a professional football player.

I’m here to support him.

During halftime, he should be in the locker room.

He should be resting.

Not wrapped around some socialite in the VIP lounge.

“Scarlett…” Chloe’s voice cuts through my shock. “What in the world?”

She turns to me, her expression shifting from confusion to rage. “How could he?”

Her eyes blaze with anger. “You’ve supported him through everything. This is his thanks?”

A sharp pain twists in my chest.

I remember meeting Caleb in the training room.

I was a Physical Therapy student, cleaning equipment and assisting with injuries.

He had this smile.

Charming.

Disarming.

I believed every word he said.

I fell hard.

We were both broke students when we started dating.

He trained constantly.

I worked multiple jobs to support us.

To support his dream.

Now?

I bought this ticket myself.

It was a splurge for my budget.

I spent all night cheering.

This moment was supposed to be my victory too.

Instead…

It takes a second for Caleb and the woman to notice the camera.

To hear the crowd’s reaction.

A flash of panic crosses Caleb’s face.

Then it hardens into something else.

The woman pushes him away.

She lifts a hand to shield her face.

Gasps echo around me.

“Aw, are they shy?” someone nearby chuckles. “Or is this scandalous?”

“That’s Caleb Davis, right? The rookie who scored? And that woman… I know her face. Where from?”

The section buzzes with speculation.

People are already pulling out phones.

“I told you about him,” Chloe snaps, glaring at the screen. “You deserve so much better. Dump him. Right now.”

Her fury anchors me.

My hands won’t stop trembling.

I pull out my phone.

Me: What is this?

His reply is instant.

A cold blade.

Caleb: You saw. We’re done. I didn’t know how to tell you.

That’s it.

On the screen, he shoves his phone into his pocket.

He takes the woman’s hand.

He leads her away, out of the camera’s view.

Just like he used to do with me after his college games.

“What did he say?” Chloe leans over, reading my screen.

Her breath hitches. “That coward…”

She stands up abruptly.

She flips both middle fingers toward the field, even though we can’t see him. “Caleb Davis, you’re a disgrace!”

People around us laugh, confused but entertained.

Suddenly, the noise is too loud.

The lights are too bright.

The world tilts.

A strong arm catches me around the waist.

It holds me steady.

The grip is firm.

Warmth seeps through the sleeve of his jacket.

I look up, startled.

I see a sharp jawline.

A handsome face, partly hidden by a baseball cap.

Dark eyes meet mine.

It’s the man who’s been sitting beside me all night.

I noticed him when he arrived.

Athletic build.

Quiet intensity.

The cap shadowed his features, but I could tell he was trouble.

The crowd roared around us, but he sat perfectly still.

Detached.

Unmoved by the arena’s chaos.