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“I told you I’d be the best fake boyfriend you ever had.”

She laughs softly. “Yeah. That’s right. You did.”

We get to Cass’s car and I say, “Keep the jacket. I’ll get it from you later.”

She smiles. “I’m going to keep it, QB. You think I’m turning down a pre-heated coat on a cold fall night?”

“Good,” I say.

She opens her door and slides into the driver’s seat. I wait for her to turn on the engine and then I head to my Escalade to drive home.

On the way, I take a detour down Cherry Hill Lane. When I pull up to my future house, I notice a car parked along the curb across from the house with the low beams on. It only takes a moment for me to recognize the car and the driver—Cass.

What is she doing here?

She looks into her rearview and spots me, turns on her running lights and drives away.

I sit in the dark, staring at the house of my dreams and wondering what my life in Waterford is going to be like when Cass and I stop fake dating.

I couldn’t find a reason to see Cass over the past week and a half. We didn’t have charity work and I’ve been consumed with practice, meetings and game-day prep. We won at home on Sunday. Cass was in the box. I pointed up to her at every touchdown.

She called me earlier today to say Winona and Declan want us to come to dinner tonight. I’m tired and sore, but I don’t want to miss this chance to see her.

I’m in the kitchen with Winona. She’s making a salad. Declan’s on the patio grilling steaks. Cass hasn’t gotten here yet. She’s delivering a meal to a family, according to the text she sent me.

I remember people bringing casseroles to our house growing up. I never thought much of it. I was always glad for the extra food.

Winona walks to the refrigerator and grabs out a tomato. “I can’t believe you’re buying Seventeen Cherry Hill.”

“Really? Why?” I ask.

“Wait.” Her brow scrunches in confusion. “Cass didn’t tell you?”

“Tell him what?” Cass says, rounding the corner into the kitchen.

“Ummmm …” Winona stares at Cass.

They have some sort of silent twin conversation, it looks a little like how the guys and I communicate on the field. It all comes down to a certain glance and a small movement of our chin or shoulder. We read one another like that.

“Nothing,” Winona finally says. “Sorry.”

I look at Cass. My curiosity is piqued. She was sitting across from the property the night of the food pantry fundraiser. What’s with her and that house?

It’s not nothing.

Declan comes in with a platter of steaks.

My mind is racing. I know she didn’t grow up on Cherry Hill. At Thanksgiving, her parents told us their home was the house they bought right after they got married. Did her grandparents live there? An ex-boyfriend?

That thought bothers me more than it should.

I walk toward Cass and pull her into a hug.

“You’ve got a big heart,” I say into her hair.

“Why?” she says, leaning back and staring up at me.

“Bringing a family a meal.”