18. That Kiss Doesn’t Look Fake
Skye
“Skye, you promised!” Anna huffs, glaring at me from across the table. She looks like she’s ready to chuck her bowl of Fruity Fluff Puffs at me, which would really suck, because I don’t want to be attacked with my least favorite cereal of all time. “You said you were tired last night, so I let you off the hook, but now you need to keep your end of the deal!”
She wants to see the “engagement pictures.”
I was tired last night, but the main reason I didn’t want her to see the pictures is simple: they look too freaking real.
Especially that kiss.
When Tatum and I were reviewing the pictures last night, I’m 100% positive my cheeks were redder than a fleet of firetrucks after our lip-locking appeared on the computer screen.
I couldn’t even look at him.
Meanwhile, Tatum seemed to be totally at ease and had no problem suggesting which pictures he thought would be best for the blog. Ultimately, I just agreed with whatever he said because I couldn’t focus enough to decide on my own.
I was too busy noticing how his thigh was touching mine. I was too busy staring at his mouth as he talked. I was too busy being overwhelmed by that darn cologne of his, which managed to smell just as fresh, even hours later. I was also too busy wondering what was wrong with me.
So, yeah, I didn’t want to relive those pictures again with Anna after Tatum went home last night. Instead, I took a frigid shower that Jack Frost would approve of, and I went to bed.
Except, shocker , I didn’t fall asleep right away. Nope. I stayed awake for at least an hour, just thinking about the whole fake engagement photoshoot. And our kiss.
Mainly, our kiss.
“SKYE!”
Oh, right.
Anna.
“Fine,” I grumble, leaning over to snatch my laptop off the kitchen counter, “but you better not get weird about any of them.”
Here’s the thing, I kind of didn’t tell her that Tatum and I kissed.
Okay, not “kind of.”
I did NOT tell her that Tatum and I kissed.
If I had, she probably would’ve set up camp outside of my bedroom door while demanding to hear every little detail and to see the darn pictures.
I wasn’t ready for that.
Guess what? I’m still not ready for that. But I can’t keep putting it off. She’s going to explode as is.
Anna abandons her bowl of cereal and drags a chair over to where I’m sitting, so she can plop down beside me. While she bounces impatiently, I turn on my laptop and force myself to open the photo file Tatum uploaded last night.
“I don’t want to look at them again,” I tell her, getting up from the table. “Knock yourself out.”
I already added the ones Tatum suggested to my blog draft last night, and once I make sure the post is good to go, that will be the LAST time I want or need to see any of those pictures again.
“Why don’t you—OH MY GOSH, THESE ARE AMAZING!” Anna gasps, shoving her face closer to the screen. “They look so legit, Skye! If I didn’t know the truth. I would definitely think that—” She cuts herself off again, but this time it’s with a loud curse. “YOU GUYS KISSED AND YOU DIDN’T TELL ME?!”
“It was just for the pictures,” I attempt to reason with her. “We only kissed to make the engagement look more realistic.”
Why is my skin starting to feel hot again?
“brO.” She looks at me with wide eyes. “That kiss doesn’t look fake.”
“It was,” I’m quick to say, despite the memory of my tingling lips. “It was fake. It was totally fake. We agreed beforehand that it was just going to be a quick, platonic kiss for the sake of appearances.”
And then you kissed him back .
Yep, thanks for that reminder.
“I’m in shock right now. I might pass out.” Anna places the back of her hand against her forehead. “So, tell me what it was like! Was it WEIRD? It had to be weird, right?”
I don’t want to keep talking about this.
So, I offer a nonchalant shrug. “There’s not much to tell.”
“Yeah, right.” She scoffs at me. “You and your best friend kissed . His mouth was touching your mouth—”
“I know how kissing works, Anna,” I snap at her, fingering the end of my braid. “And I already told you that it was fake.”
Though, if I were being completely honest with myself, I’d have to admit the kiss wasn’t like any other kiss I’ve ever experienced before. I just don’t know what that means though.
No, no, no, no!
I can’t think about what that means. Tatum and I are best friends. He’s one of THE most important people in my life. I don’t want that to change. I don’t want to lose him because my mind has decided to make a mess of everything.
“So, your fake kiss didn’t affect either of you afterward?” she asks, raising an eyebrow at me. “There wasn’t any awkwardness going on between you guys?”
She’s the worst.
“We’re fine,” I give her the short story. “The kiss didn’t change anything.”
After Anna leaves for work, I make some final tweaks to my blog draft and email the link to Zoya so she can approve it before the post goes live on our website. She told me yesterday that I didn’t have to come into the office today, as long as the blog post was ready to go, and I am eternally grateful.
Today is an I-need-to-stay-home-and-wear-pjs-all-day kind of day.
I’ll come up with some more future blog post ideas, tidy up around the apartment, talk to Sprinkles while she ignores me, andddd I don’t know what else. It can be literally anything, as long as it keeps me busy and distracted from thinking about that obnoxious kiss.
My phone buzzes and I see that Zoya texted me instead of responding directly to my email.
Did she already look over the draft?
Zoya: OMG! I love it, love it, love it! You two are just the cutest. The pictures are gorgeous and were definitely worth the wait. And that KISS?! Wow! I’m sure the readers will love it all as much as I do. Super, super, super cute! Great job, Skye!
Zoya: You can make the post go live whenever you’re ready.
I blink.
She loved it.
She loved the post.
She loved the pictures.
She thinks it’s all real.
While that should make me happy—because the plan is working—it doesn’t. I’ve got that guilty feeling again. I’m lying to my freaking boss. It’s sooooo not right. And once this post goes live, I’ll be lying to all our blog readers too.
Crap, crap, crap.
What’s going to happen after the ten-year party and Zoya announces who’s taking over for Cynthia? Tatum and I can’t stay fake-engaged for the rest of our lives, and we definitely can’t get fake-married!
What the heck? No.
That’s just weird. Who does that?
Who gets fake-engaged ?
Shut up, Skye, no one asked you.
We’ll have to break up. That’s the only solution. Once we both get what we want out of this fake relationship, we can plan a fake breakup story, and everything will go back to normal.
Yeah, that’ll work. It has to work.
Lying to fix another lie isn’t the best option, but the idea calms my nerves enough for me to text Zoya back.
Me: I’m so glad you loved it! I’ll share it to the website now.
And then I’m able to change the blog post’s status from “draft” to “live” without feeling completely guilty. There, done.
I also text Tatum and tell him that Zoya is happy with the pictures and the blog post overall.
I don’t expect an instant reply though, because he told me last night that he has a photoshoot scheduled with a local indie author who needs new headshots, so I leave my phone on the kitchen counter and shuffle over to the living room because that’s where my donut notebook is.
Time to start brainstorming.
But in all honesty? Brainstorming doesn’t happen right away. I spend the first fifteen minutes just staring at the list I started yesterday. And then the ideas begin to trickle into my mind. Like, I don’t know…fun facts about donuts?
Or a donut-themed gift guide for all the donut-lovers out there?
Quizzes! I love quizzes!
They’ve actually helped me make important choices in life, like what kind of body scrub I should be using—because it turned out that I was using the wrong kind.
We could have a “which donut are you?” quiz! I’d have to smooth out the details and stuff, but I can see it working out. Totally.
A donut selfie challenge would be super fun.
Maybe I could come up with a list of donuts to match each mood?
Oooh, a “celebrities with donuts” scavenger hunt!
I look over my growing list and nod in approval.
At least six new ideas.
Huh, and I thought this whole blog thing was going to be a drag. Maybe it’s not as horrible as I thought. Coming up with ideas is kind of fun.
I abandon my notebook and move onto the next thing on my mental to-do list.
Time to tidy up around the apartment!
I’m not a total mess monster, but let’s face it, there’s always something that can be taken care of.
So, I decide to vacuum.
Do I nearly kill myself by tripping over the cord?
Yes.
Do I accidentally catch part of Anna’s crocheted blanket that’s on the couch?
Also, yes.
But the floor is vacuumed and hopefully that will last a long time.
Next, I tackle some laundry. It’s all washed, I just need to fold it and put everything away. That gets boring fast though, so I spend some time scrolling through social media in between matching socks. And then I stop doing my laundry altogether because baby animal videos have taken over my feed without warning.
So. Freaking. Cute.
Just as a baby penguin is about to waddle for the first time, my phone starts ringing and Zoya’s name flashes on the screen.
I gasp out loud.
Why is she calling me? Didn’t she say that she loved the post? What if she changed her mind? What if she decided that she HATES it?
Okay, well that does seem kind of unlikely.
Maybe she butt-dialed me? Is Zoya capable of butt-dialing? I mean, she has to be. She’s human just like the rest of us.
My phone stops ringing, and I gasp again. I let her go to voicemail?!
Wow, Skye. First, you lie to your boss, and now you ignore her call? We all know who won’t be employee of the month. Or year. Or ever.
Ha. Ha.
I toss my phone aside and allow myself to collapse into my pile of unfolded laundry. It’s totally dramatic of me, but it felt fitting. My phone buzzes and I give it a pitiful look.
I already know Zoya left a message.
Probably to tell me that I’m fired. Yay.
No point in prolonging the inevitable.
I snatch my phone up, count to three, and then wince before playing her voice message.
“ Hey, Skye! Good. News. Your blog post is doing AMAZING. Seriously. The comment section is blowing up and the share count is crazy high, considering the post just went live today. It looks like readers are excited to hear more about the wedding. Isn’t that great? So, what I’m thinking is for right now, one of your blog posts will be donut-related and then the other weekly post can be something about your wedding planning. What do you think? Call me back when you get a chance. Thanks, girl! You’re the best!”
And just like that, I’m dead again.