When Love Is Unexpected: A Sweet Fake Relationship Friends To Lovers Romance

2. Chapter 2

She”s even more beautiful than I remember. She”s not wearing any makeup, and her hair is all curls today. She is gorgeous.

”I”ll leave you two alone so you can talk,” says Jon.

”No, Dad,” says Laila. ”Stay and finish your breakfast. Sam and I will go talk in the den.”

Laila takes me by the hand and leads me into the den.

”Sit,” she says.

I sit on the couch, and she sits next to me, close enough that I can smell her hair.

”Why didn”t you tell me you were coming?” she asks, nestling comfortably into my side.

”I wanted to surprise you,” I say. ”Surprise!”

”You”ve been avoiding me for weeks,” she says.

”I was afraid that if I talked to you, I wouldn”t be able to keep it from you.”

”Are you back for good?” she asks. I can hear the smile in her voice.

”No,” I say. ”I”ll be here for a few days, and then I”m heading to California.”

”I see,” she says. ”You”re here to see your family.”

”Yes, but I”m here to see you, too. I want to spend as much time as I can with you while I”m here.”

”Good,” she says as she finds my hand to hold it.

To this day, I still don”t understand how we”ve always been able to share such intimate moments yet remain only friends.

”Your move to Boston is coming up,” I say.

”Yes,” she begins. ”I”ve got everything ready. I”m staying in Aaron”s condo. I wish you could be here to help me move.”

”I think I”ll be back in Athens by then.”

”You just got here,” she says. ”Let”s not talk about you leaving. At least not for a while.”

”I”m a groomsman at my sister”s wedding next weekend,” I say.

”Ooh, a wedding,” she says. ”That sounds fun.”

”It would be fun,” I say, ”If I were married or, at the very least, in a committed relationship. After my sister gets married, I”ll be the only member of the family who”s still single. They”ve hounded me for years about not having someone special in my life.”

”It can”t be that bad,” she says.

”Explaining myself is exhausting.”

”I”m sorry,” she says. ”Yeah, the pressure would grind on my last nerve.”

”Oh, it does,” I say.

”How long will you be in the States?”

”About two months,” I say,” I have my high school reunion, and my grandparents are celebrating their fiftieth wedding anniversary next month.”

”You”re going to be busy,” she says, straightening on the couch so she can look directly at me. Her eyes take my breath away.

”How are things going with Eric?” I ask.

”That”s over,” she says. ”We broke up yesterday.”

”You”ve broken up in the past, only to get back together days later.”

”This time, it”s for good. We both know it”s over.”

”I”m sorry,” I say.

”Don”t be,” she says. ”I wish I”d done it sooner. I have a career path to focus on, and I”m not the most available girlfriend or friend, for that matter.”

”You and I never had a problem finding time to get together,” I say.

”That”s different,” she says, smiling. ”You were never a demanding, needy, insecure boyfriend. You didn”t get your feelings hurt if I had to study and couldn”t go out.”

I was always disappointed when I couldn”t see her. She just never knew it.

She has freckles dotting her perfect nose and flawless skin. Her eyelashes are long and thick. Her lips are pink and full, with a sexy cupid”s bow that begs to be kissed. Her smile is white and perfectly straight. I”ve seen all the pictures adorning the walls in her house, so I know she wore braces for two years. Well worth it if you ask me. She has an athletic body. Her legs are strong and beautiful. She has a tiny birthmark on her right shoulder—something else that begs to be kissed. I can”t help but wonder how many times Eric kissed her there.

”What are you thinking?” she asks.

”I”m thinking about how beautiful you are and how much I missed your face.”

”You sound so poetic,” she says.

”Your beauty is a poem worth writing,” I say.

She smiles and looks away. No one would ever know this about Laila Linder, but I know. She”s shy.

”So, what should we do today?” she asks. ”I still have some packing to finish up. If you help me, we can be done in an hour. After that, I”m all yours.”

”I”d like to swing by the studio this afternoon. Do you want to go with me?”

”Yes,” she says, smiling. ”I”ll go anywhere with you.”

”I”m all yours,” and ”I”ll go anywhere with you.” An image of us holding hands and walking along a sandy beach in San Diego crosses my mind and takes root in my heart.

”Anywhere?” I ask.

”Well,” she says, raising an eyebrow and giving me one of her staple mischievous grins, ”what exactly do you have in mind, Mr. Jameson?”

”Would you consider coming to California with me?” There. I”ve finally asked the question I”ve wanted to ask her for over a month.

”What?” she asks, her eyes growing big with surprise. ”You want me to go to California with you?”

I nod and watch her unfold her long legs and stand to her feet. She starts pacing the floor, walking back and forth between the couch and the fireplace on the other side of the room. She taps her bottom lip with an index finger. She considers my proposal, thinks it over, and calculates time and whatever she has to accomplish between now and when she has to report to Boston Children”s Hospital in three months.

I wait thirty-seven seconds, to be exact. She walks back to the couch and stands over me, watching me, assessing me with a raised eyebrow and a penetrating gaze before pacing again.

”You don”t have to give me an answer right now,” I say, sensing her hesitation. ”You can say no. It won”t hurt my feelings,” I lie.

After what seems like an eternity, she sits beside me with her back ramrod straight and her arms crossed.

”Why do you want me to go with you?” she asks. ”And don”t lie to me.”

With all the courage I can muster, I only tell her half the truth.

”I want you to pose as my girlfriend,” I say, almost in a whisper.

”Okay,” she says before pausing, ”I”ll do it.”

”Wait. What?!” I exclaim, my voice sounding shrill.

I can”t help it. I hug her. She hugs me back, and I can feel our hearts beating almost as one. I allow myself to get lost in this moment, knowing but never saying that the other half of the whole truth is that I love her. I love her, and I”ve loved her since the first time I laid eyes on her. The other half of the whole truth is that I want to spend as much time as possible with her before I have to return to Greece, where I”ll try once again to forget her.

”There”s a lot I”ve got to do before we leave,” she says. ”Help me pack, yes?”

We spend the next hour packing the rest of her bedroom for her move to Boston. When I empty the drawer on her nightstand, I find a framed photo of Eric stashed inside. I guess this time, it is for good.

She glances at me when she starts packing a suitcase for our trip. ”How much should I pack?” she asks.

”Pack enough for a week. Anything else, you can get there. Plus, you”ll need a party dress for Emma”s wedding.”

She reaches into her closet several times, pulling out possible prospects for the wedding before deciding on a dress she describes as ”A forest green, A-line cocktail dress with a chiffon skirt.”

”I”m going to San Diego with Sam,” she announces when we enter the kitchen.

Her mom is fixing sandwiches at one end of the center island while Jon stands next to her slicing some cucumbers.

”Do you two want to eat?” asks Sharon.

”Wait,” says Laila. ”Did you two already know about Sam”s invite?”

”Here, have a pastrami sandwich,” says Sharon, handing Laila a plate.

”I had to tell your dad,” I say. ”I didn”t know what my chances were.”

”I bought your ticket last week,” Jon says, addressing Laila.

”I bet Adam knows,” she says. ”Probably my sisters too. So, I”m the last to know.”

”You”re smiling,” says Sharon. ”So, I”m not going to feel that bad about not telling you.”

When the doorbell rings, Jon walks away to answer it. He returns a few seconds later with Katherine and her kids in tow.

”Sammy!” Tori exclaims as soon as she sees me.

”Well, hello,” I say, bending over to shake her hand.

”Do you remember Jon?” asks Katherine after hugging me. Her young son stands behind her, using her legs as a shield.

”Of course, I remember Jon,” I say. ”Hi, little man.”

”Tall!” Jon exclaims, pulling himself away from Katherine just enough to point a finger at me. ”You”re tall!”

”I think he”s a little intimidated by your height,” says Katherine.

I pull up a chair and sit down. I offer my hand to Jon, hoping he”ll shake it.

With a little nudge, Katherine encourages him to approach me.

”Do you like dinosaurs?” I ask.

Jon nods.

I reach into my pants pocket and pull out a small green plastic toy T-rex. When I hand it to him, he immediately takes it from me.

”What do you say?” asks Katherine.

”Fank you,” Jon says in his best, most polite little boy voice.

When I glance at Tori, she”s looking up at me expectantly. She has Laila”s eyes, green and captivating.

This time, I reach into my shirt pocket and pull out two small barrettes made with sea glass.

”Is that for me?” she asks.

”Yep,” I say, ”I made one for you and one for Holly.”

”Oh my gosh, Sam,” says Laila.

I hand Laila one of the barrettes and the other to Tori.

”These are beautiful,” Laila says. ”You made these?”

”I went sea glass hunting last month,” I say, ”hoping I”d find enough to make one for each girl.”

”I love it!” Tori says, turning the barrette over in her hands. ”Thank you, Sammy.”

”You”re welcome,” I say.

”Can you put this on me, Mommy?” asks Tori.

”Holly will be here on Wednesday,” says Laila, handing the barrette back to me. ”You can give it to her yourself. She”s going to love it.”

Before we leave, Laila and I make plans to have dinner with Katherine and Adam tomorrow night.

Nostalgia overwhelms me as we drive to the studio and park on the curb.

I bought the studio from Loren because this is where I met Laila. I don”t want anything about it to change.

The studio is busy. Half of the tables are in use, and there are eight customers inside.

As soon as Zoe sees us, her eyes light up and a smile spreads across her face.

”Sam!” she calls out before excusing herself from the table where she”s been helping some customers.

Zoe is an attractive woman in her late twenties or early thirties. She was a stay-at-home mom for five years until she found herself divorced and with an art degree she never used. I hired her on the spot.

When she reaches us, she hugs me, and I feel Laila let go of my arm so I can hug Zoe back.

”Oh my gosh, when did you get here?” Zoe asks.

”This morning,” I say.

”The jet lag is going to knock you out,” she says, with one hand resting on my arm. ”You”re going to need a day or two to recover. Poor baby”

I let out a nervous laugh when I feel Laila stiffen beside me.

Is she jealous?