“Favourite colour?”
“Seriously, Ryder?” We were sitting in the kitchen of the bookshop, coming up with a story for when we returned to school.
“Yes, Bailey. You wanna sell this story or what?” He rolled his eyes and stood up to make another cup of tea. “Mine is black.”
“Black’s not a colour,” I argued.
“Fine. Orange then. I like orange.” He shrugged and continued brewing tea.
“Purple.” I sighed and buried my head in my arms. I couldn’t believe we were playing twenty questions so that we could make this fake relationship seem real.
“Favourite food?” He turned and set a cup of tea down in front of me and waited patiently for me to reply.
“Ah,” I groaned. “Come on. This is stupid. No one is going to ask if we know each other’s favourite colours, foods, books, lucky numbers, star signs, or any of that, Ryder. All they will want to know is how long we’ve been dating. Trust me.” He couldn’t honestly think people were going to care that much about us, could he?
“Food. Star sign. I didn’t think of that.” Ryder’s eyes widened. “Okay, I love burgers, my star sign is Aquarius, my lucky number is twenty-three—it’s the number on my soccer jersey—I like cars, girls. Well, I did like girls until I met you.” Ryder winked at me. “Now I only like you.”
“Laying it on a bit thick there, don’t you think?” I laughed.
“I’m a professional. Now you tell me about you.”
“Mashed potatoes, Aries, fifteen,” I stated, unenthusiastically.
“And what else?” Ryder fiddled with the mug in his hands.
“Nothing. I don’t like anything else. Books, maybe.”
“Me, Bailey. You’re supposed to say me.” He smirked.
“Fine. You too.”
“No one is ever going to believe you. I’m going to have to pull off this entire fake relationship by myself.” He shook his head slowly.
“Sorry. It’s just weird. I’m not even sure it’s a good idea to pretend,” I told him truthfully. I was having doubts about being able to pull this relationship off and whether it would even do anything to remotely make Chace regret his actions. I doubted it.
“You wanna back out? Break up with me now?” He pouted.
“No, I just…I don’t know. It’s all too confusing. Can we not try so hard? Just let it unfold naturally?”
“Okay, sure. But we do need to know the answer to one question: How long have we been dating?”
“Easy. Since last week when you asked me to be your fake girlfriend,” I told him as I stood up to put our empty cups in the sink.
“Okay, cool.” Ryder sighed and leant back in his chair.
“What?” I walked back over to the table and stood beside him. He peeled one eye open and looked at me.
“What are we going to do now?”
“Well…I have work to do. You know, out there.” I waved in the direction of the shop. “Don’t you have plans, or friends, or something?”
“Nope. Not today.” He grinned, and I couldn’t help but smile back. He had one of those larger-than-life, contagious smiles that just sucked you in every time. “Today I’m hanging with my girlfriend.” He jumped out of the chair and pressed a kiss to my cheek before running out of the kitchen, leaving me standing there dumbstruck. He kissed me. Granted, it was my cheek. But still, Ryder freaking Jones kissed me. I ran out there after him and found him lying on the sofa with a book in his hands.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I asked.
“Reading, Bailey. You know, that thing you do when you open a book and let your eyes flow over the pages. It’s quite relaxing. Wanna try it?” I had the urge to throw a book at him. He was being a smart alec and trying to annoy me.
“Not what I meant, Ryder.” I folded my arms over my chest.
“Ah, hanging with my girlfriend like a real boyfriend does,” he answered uncertainly. I rolled my eyes.
“We’re not dating. It’s fake,” I reminded him.
“So we gotta get in some practice; otherwise, no one will believe us when school goes back. What’s your point, Bailey?”
“Why’d you kiss me?”
“Seriously?” he asked before bursting into laughter, tears running uncontrollably down his face. He had to roll over and hold his stomach from laughing so hard. I didn’t think it was funny. “That’s what you’re worried about?”
I didn’t say anything. I just waited silently for him to get himself sorted and answer me.
“It was barely a kiss. My lips hardly touched your cheek,” he said. He pushed himself upright and stood and stalked toward me.
I panicked. My heart was beating out of my chest. My palms were sweating. Why is he walking toward me and looking at me like that? I backed into the bookshelves. Ryder stopped in front of me. He placed his hands on the shelves on either side of my head and caged me in. I was trapped.
“Want to know what a real kiss feels like?” he whispered, letting his lips touch my ear lightly. I shivered and closed my eyes. No, I did not want to know what it felt like. I placed my hands on his chest and pushed. He didn’t budge from my efforts, but he did step back, chuckling.
“Relax, Bailey. I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. But you’re going to have to get used to me being close if you want Chace to believe this thing.”
He was right, of course. No one was going to believe we were in a relationship if I freaked out every time Ryder went near me. Luckily, we had a few days to work on it before school went back.