Fake It

"Please. It's one ball."
One ball too many.

Being slightly famous with an even more famous family is kind of a hard ship when you don't want anything to do with them. For Layne Avery, this ball was the very last thing she ever wanted to go to, but when a very unexpected visitor comes and asks her for a favor, she says yes. Layne isn't fit for the royal life, or maybe she is. You tell me, but you first you have to read Fake It.


7. Seven

"SCORE!" Zain yells and I yelp as he smacks the golf ball with his club.

We were at Mirilano's most famous golf couse. In the heat. In a skirt. A golf skirt. A FUCKING SKIRT. Days after our engagement party, Zain was invited to compete for a charity golf tournament. I'm all for charity, but I really despise waking up before noon. I was pissed. This morning, I was really contemplating finding a loop hole out of this horrid contract.

We are on the fifth hole of the day and I am starting to get tired. Looking around, I notice we were here by ourselves. Of course we had Edward and Hana with us, but besides that we were alone. I asked Hana why I had to go. She simply smiled, saying, "You have to appear to be madly in love. It might seem weird if you weren't there. "

I just went along with it, I guess.

It's warm outside and the heat won't let up for a while despite the 10% chance of rain. Dear God, please bless us with some better meteorologists. I watch as we progress to where ever the ball landed. I sigh. The minute I do, Zain turns around quickly, looking confused.

"Are you tired?" He asks and he looks genuinely concerned. I wish I could take back that sigh now.

"N-no, I'm fine." I say with a smile and a wave of my hand.

I now how fake I sound right now, but there isn't a correct way to answer to that. Zain looks around a bit before taking my wrist and pulling me.

"What are you doing?!" I ask a lot louder that I should.

He holds his hand out to Edward and says, "5 iron." Edward fumbles, trying to place the club in his hand. Zain smiles as he hands me it. I take it wryly.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" I question him with a rather annoyed look.

"You hit the ball."

"I get that. I mean, what do I do?"I retort to his obvious sarcastic response.

He shakes his head a he pulls me towards him. My eyes widen as I'm about to say something, but I fall short when he turns me around and press my back against his chest. I freeze. I swear a million and ten goosebumps found residence on very inch of my body. I try not to blush, but it's really hard not to when your not-so-fiancé is crossing so many boundary lines. I swallow the the build up in my throat as I try to listen to Prince Zain's instructions.

"Focus on the ball. You just have to picture where you want the ball to go and hit it."
"It's not that easy." I tell him.

Without answering me, he holds my wrists and helps me swing the club. The golf ball flew a reasonable distance... right into the bunker.

I sigh, realizing we would have to walk all the way over there just to hit again.
"Aren't we over par, Sir?" Hana asks.

Zain let's go of me to check his watch. With a nod, he murmurs, "Let's head to the sixth hole."

On the day of the actual golf tourney, my nerves where on the fritz. We didn't get that far durring the countless practices and there wasn't really much progress. I cringe. As cliched as it is, Prince Zain and I were wearing matching golf outfits. And by that, I mean, I was forced.

"Why am I even doing here? I'm going to be playing against chapions." Zain says with an annoyed look on his face.

I nod along to his words. His not wrong. There really isn't a reason that he should playing. I watch silently as the famous Andrew Lestrade takes his time focusing on the ball. The second he actually steps up to take the shot, the entire stadium erupts with, "SHH," 's.

I, unintentionally, sneaze. Apparently it was loud enough to scare Lestrade, making him hit the ball at an awkward angle. It lands in the lake. It's not too deep, so it still qualifies as in bounds. The announcer makes some kind of lame water pun as the game progresses. I have a feeling that whether or not I made a noise, he would have still messed up.

Finally, it's Prince Zain's turn. I watch with bated breath as he steps up to starting point. I cross my fingers as he gets into his "stance." He takes a deep breath before he sends the ball a reasonable distance towards the hole. The crowd applauds and for the first time, I don't think it's because he's a prince.
While the final tally is being counted, everyone's anxiety levels rise.

"It appears that today's winner no other than Mirlano's own Prince Zain Malik."

His eyes widened with a smile etched on his face. He has on the widest, happiest smile anyone could ever get. It almost makes up got him kissing right after. I blushed up to my temples and curl my fingers tight around my thumb to stop me from hitting him. As the crowds cheers on, Prince Zain repeats, "I am so sorry." over and over again.

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