Chapter 8
Eight
Thomas
Angelo freezes, sucking in a hard breath. Maybe I jumped the gun by placing my hand on his thigh, but part of me wanted to see how he would react. Angelo licks his lower lip before pulling it between his teeth and clenching. I reluctantly pull my hand back.
“We’ve only been dating a couple of weeks, so it’s still rather new.
Normally I’d be pro-PDA, but this is a work event.
It’s probably best to keep the touching to a minimum.
Maybe just hand-holding or putting our arms around each other.
” Angelo takes a drink from his cup before he meets my eyes.
For a second. Then he’s back to looking at his food.
Part of me wants to think that Angelo is limiting touch because he’s as affected by it as I am, but that’s probably just in my head. It’s likely for the best that Angelo doesn’t want to blur the lines by us kissing during this little farce. No need to complicate matters any further.
“Great. We’ll keep it simple. What should I expect at this party? Do I need to bring a gift or anything?”
“Ooh yes, actually. We usually do a White Elephant gift exchange. It doesn’t have to be anything expensive; people do things like movie tickets or a hot cocoa kit.”
“Great, that sounds reasonable. Anything else I should know?”
Angelo meets my eyes again, and for a moment we’re just looking at each other.
I’d noticed the deep brown color of his eyes before, but now that we’re in a brightly lit cafe, I see the glints of amber and gold.
It’s gorgeous. Maybe this whole thing is a terrible idea.
I probably shouldn’t be agreeing to a fake date with Eric’s teacher, but it’s not like there are real feelings involved.
At most, we’re friends. Angelo is making it clear every moment that this isn’t a real date. Which is what I should want too, right?
“Eric?” I call out as I enter the house with a pizza box in hand. “I brought home dinner if you’re hungry.”
“Coming,” Eric calls back.
I set the box on the kitchen table and grab a few plates and cups.
We have a few sodas too, might as well go for broke on any plan for eating healthy tonight.
It’s not like one night of junk is going to hurt.
Eric walks into the room with his eyes glued to his phone.
He doesn’t look at me as he notices the pizza box.
“Cool, what flavor did you get?” He flips open the box without waiting for an answer.
“Chicken bacon ranch? Smells great, thanks.” Eric grabs a slice, lifting it to his mouth without bothering to grab a plate.
“Slow down. You want to sit down and watch a movie or something? You can pick.”
Eric looks at his phone again before looking at the pizza, then finally at me. “Uh, yeah. I could do that.”
“You want a plate? Something to drink?” I motion to the soda, and Eric chuckles.
He sets his pizza on a plate and grabs a can of Coke, tucking it into the crook of his elbow before he turns for the living room.
Eric claims his spot on the couch, sets his food on the coffee table, and grabs the remote.
“Should I ask why you’re in such a good mood? Pizza, soda, and a movie,” Eric lets out a low whistle.
I take a bite of pizza, using it as a stalling technique as I think of what to say.
Instead, all I can think about are Angelo’s eyes at the cafe.
“Just felt like spending time with you. I’ve been busy on my dates, and it feels like we haven’t seen each other much over the last couple of weeks,” I tell him with a shrug.
Eric’s phone chimes with a notification, and he doesn’t hesitate to pull it out of his pocket and look at the screen. His thumb taps something in response before he’s back to looking at the TV to pick a movie.
“Who you texting?” I ask when his phone chimes again.
Eric looks at me with guilt in his eyes for a moment before he’s back to looking at his phone. “Nothing, I mean, it’s just a friend.”
The way he said that just now isn’t building my confidence that it’s ‘nothing.’ If I didn’t know any better, it sounds like Eric has a crush. “Well, what are we watching?” I ask, deciding to play along.
“How about this?” Eric stops on a Christmas rom-com called Decking The Halls.
“Sure. Sounds good.” I settle in to watch the movie with my pizza and Coke, but every couple of minutes, Eric’s phone chimes with a new message.
He’s paying way more attention to his phone than the movie, and it’s clearly not nothing.
I should probably say something, but in a way it’s almost cute.
At one point, Eric’s cheeks even go a bit flushed. The movie he picked isn’t bad either.
It’s some holiday rom-com about a woman who finds herself in a sudden snowstorm. Trapped with her coworker, who she was on a business trip with, and as fate would have it there’s only one hotel room left. It seems highly unlikely, but I find myself rooting for them.
“Everything good?” I finally ask when Eric’s phone chimes again.
He bites his lip, glancing at his phone again like he’s debating answering the message instead of my question. “Yeah, sorry, it’s good. Just texting a friend.”
“Alright, just thought it might be more than a friend.” I tease.
Eric doesn’t bother to respond; his attention is back on his phone.
I look at the TV again, but the movie is finishing up.
Predictably, they end up together despite the odds, and all’s well that ends well. If only it were as easy in real life.
I grab the plates to load the dishwasher, and by the time I’ve finished, Eric has disappeared into his room without a word.
Teenagers. I shake my head as I put away the rest of the food and head for my room.
The book on my nightstand grabs my attention, but thinking about the characters has my mind returning to Angelo.
I know I’m probably silly for going along with the whole fake dating thing, but on some level, I’ve already committed to it by telling Eric I’m on dates when I go to book club. Is this really any worse?