Angol
The world loves Maverick Houston. Me? I've hated him since we were ten.
It's not exactly easy to escape your childhood nemesis when your parents are best friends who live on the same block. Through countless vacations, parties and holidays, Maverick and I have spent the past decade trading insults.
Until that family dinner when his mother tells us she's dying. When she asks us to forget the past and start fresh. That's how I found myself on a date with the Treasure State Wildcats football star. The campus playboy. The boy I kissed when I was three. The man who is the bane of my existence.
He's arrogant. He's blunt. He's too handsome for his own good. But if he has a single, redeeming merit, the guy sure does love his mom. And that's why I started fake dating Maverick Houston. That's why I made him a proposition of my own. That's how this sham of a relationship ruined my life.
The world loves Maverick Houston. Me? I hate that he made me love him too.
