19. Lila
NINETEEN
LILA
“I like all your sides.”
It’s sad that my fake boyfriend is the first man to say something like that to me, isn’t it? Even when we were at our best, Josh always had little criticisms. Helpful suggestions for how I could change myself to be a better girlfriend or a better employee. I wanted to make him happy, and he didn’t shy away from telling me exactly how I could. Perfect match, right?
The reality was, I was constantly scrambling, trying to keep up with his ever-changing expectations.
But Grant and his “I like you just as you are” line? I don’t know what to do with it. Well…I want to dive in and swim around in it until I get all pruney from the unbounded acceptance. But I should put up “Swim at Your Own Risk” signs to remind myself how much heartache waits for me in those waters.
I can’t get attached to my fake boyfriend like a leech in the shallows. Even though that’s exactly what I want to do—I want to glom on and hold tight until he shakes me off when he goes back to Texas.
Like right now—it’s taking a crazy amount of willpower not to attach myself to his arm while we stroll downtown Sunshine. I point out businesses and shops, giving morsels of town history along with a dozen glowing recommendations for anything that might be on his shopping list.
I’m probably going on too much, but I can’t help it—I’m excited to show off our little town. I haven’t had a true visitor here before. It feels like a taste of what’s to come with my future job.
Hopefully my future job.
“That one across the street with the red storefront and the canary yellow door? That’s my sister’s gift shop.”
Even from here, I can see she’s got a few customers inside. I love it.
“That’s a must-visit, I’m guessing?”
“It’s one of a kind. She’s an artist. She paints vibrant, cozy scenes.” Her bright orange and red dahlia painting helps keep the gloom away in my apartment. “She sells all handmade items, most of it from local artists. That store is the biggest threat to my paycheck each month.”
“I should stop in and get gifts for my mom and sister-in-law sometime. Maybe you’d help me pick out a few things?”
“I would love it. I already have so many ideas.” Somewhere in my purse, my phone buzzes. It’s done that at least ten times since I left my apartment to meet him. “Uh, speaking of moms.”
Not the best transition, but this was never going to feel perfectly natural.
“My mother would really like to confirm you’re coming to Hope’s engagement party this weekend. There’s no pressure, of course. You don’t have to do it?—”
“I want to.”
“Oh. Okay. Great.” He’s surprisingly chill about the whole fake dating thing. Me? I’m a tangle of frizzy nerve-endings. “I hope you’re prepared to act like a smitten boyfriend. ”
“I’ll be ready.”
We slow down in front of the old, empty department store. It’s a sad gap in an otherwise busy street, but Mom hasn’t found a business willing to lease such a big space. Like my apartment, the exterior has a vintage feel, but the inside needs some love.
He tilts his head toward the forgotten building. “You brought me on the scenic route.”
“It was beautiful a few months ago. Hope filled the front window with toys and lights for her Christmas festival.”
“Are you doing something like that for the Fourth of July?”
“Obviously. Even though I’m kind of mad I didn’t come up with it first. It’ll be all flag-themed merchandise from local stores, with some lights above it to give a hint of fireworks.” I stand right in front of the window and gesture around like I’m painting the scene for him. “I set aside a couple of the flag buntings for the backdrop too. Outside, I’ll put some helium balloons up for as long as they last.”
“You’ll make Captain America proud.”
“Your eyes will be dazzled by the star-spangled goodness.” I spin to face him. “It’s a little free advertising for local businesses, and if we’re really lucky, we’ll find someone to lease the building.”
“It’s a great plan. I can’t wait to see your vision become reality.”
“I hope I live up to my own hype.”
“I don’t see how I could be disappointed.”
I could bask in this man’s praise like a happy little kitten in a sunbeam. “Grant Irwin, you’re a charmer.”
He flashes a boyish smile. “When I want to be.”
He’s got my insides pirouetting around, and he’s barely said anything. Either he’s just got that much charisma or I’m starved for approval. Maybe both .
Over his shoulder, I spot Josh across the street. My content cat smile freezes in place.
“How ready are you to turn up the charm?” I whisper.
He leans closer. “Just say the word.”
“That’s good because Josh is watching us.” I keep the happy smile pasted on as if we’re still flirting away.
Grant tenses like someone just zapped him with static electricity. He puts a little more distance between us as if to stop it from happening again. Not the response I was going for. I grab his hand and lace my fingers in his, tugging him closer.
“I’m sure he’ll realize he’s being a creep and move on in a minute.” Actually, I’m not sure of that at all. Josh has proven he’s got a flawed opinion of what constitutes bad behavior, especially when it comes to his own.
Grant clears his throat and goes right on staring at me. The boyish smile is gone, replaced by mild panic. He looks like he’s been set in the cockpit of a gliding airplane and somebody told him he has to land the plane. Clueless, basically.
The hint of uncertainty in this capable man would probably be a lot more attractive if my pride weren’t riding on him snapping out of it in the next three seconds.
“What do you want me to do?”
“I don’t know…pretend to flirt with me.” He was doing it before. Why is it making his brain shut down now?
“Hey…baby.”
My fake happiness disappears. “Not baby.”
I never liked that nickname, but after seeing it in Josh’s whoops text to the other woman, the nickname makes my stomach crawl.
He only looks more confused. “Darling girl.”
“That’s worse,” I hiss through a pretend smile. “How are you so bad at this? It was your idea!”
“Was it? ”
Josh is still standing across the street, maxing out the amount of time you can casually watch a couple having a private moment before it turns into stalking. I need to sell this. If he figures out Grant isn’t interested in me, everyone I knew in Seattle will hear about my pathetic show.
It shouldn’t matter. I don’t care what they think. Except…after the crummy year I’ve had, it does matter. I need to salvage something.
“Just…act natural. Pretend you like me.”
A crease forms between Grant’s eyebrows. “I like you.”
“Romantically.” I give him another smile as though Josh is counting them, and when he reaches a set amount, he’ll be on his way. “Pretend I’m your dream girl.”
Something flickers in Grant’s eyes. Whatever it is, it flips the switch. He moves closer until he’s in my space. I back up a step, hitting the department store’s window. He places one hand on the glass and leans in.
He smells good. Something minty and herbal lingers on him, and I’m tempted to take a deep sniff just so I can memorize the exact make up of his soap.
“You are my dream girl. I like everything about you.” He dips his head nearer until we’re breathing the same air. “Your laugh. Your ambition. Your dedication. Your heart.”
Heat spreads through my body from my toes to my scalp. My blood is molten, my organs singed to a crisp, and he hasn’t even touched me. A tiny part of my brain recognizes the danger in giving myself over to this moment, but I don’t move. I’m not sure I can.
I am Icarus, flying higher and higher.
Grant shifts his hand to my neck, splaying his fingers lightly across my skin from my collar bone to my jaw. His thumb skates up my chin to press ever so softly to my lower lip. “I can’t stop thinking about your mouth. I want to… ”
He draws even closer, his eyes on the fiery spot where he’s touching my lip. His breath ghosts over my mouth. My eyes drift shut, and I tilt my chin, ready for him to put me out of my misery and kiss me already.
Seconds pass. I…might not be breathing.
“Was that enough charm for you?” he says softly.
My eyes fly open. He still hovers millimeters from my face. His eyes have lost their sultry fire, replaced now with something I can’t read. He moves his thumb from my mouth, letting it slide along my cheek. I’m sure to any outside observer—say, somebody standing across the street being nosy—it looked like we kissed.
Turns out, he’s so good at this, it almost felt like we kissed, too.
I am Icarus, crashing to the ground.
I straighten in his grasp, and he lowers his hand. It takes me a few seconds to compose myself. Outwardly, anyway. Inside, I’m a needy, disappointed mess. I run my suddenly clammy hands along my shorts and lick my lips. His eyes follow the movement, but instead of shifting closer again, he puts a little more distance between us. It’s barely anything, but I feel it like a hundred paper cuts.
You wanted a fake boyfriend? Congrats, you got one.
My smile is a sham, but that fits. “That was the exact right amount of charm.”
He smiles, too, but it reminds me of the mid-happy smile he demonstrated yesterday. It isn’t nearly enough. It might not even be real.
“Is he still around?”
“I don’t know.” I don’t want to look. The idea that one of the sexiest moments of my life was all for the sake of my ex sets something slimy loose in my stomach .
Grant’s just-barely-there smile falls. “Was that too much? We never talked about our limits.”
“No.” I croak it more than say it. I swallow because I’m super chill like that, and try again. “No. That was fine.”
Fine . Sure. That neck caress and lip touch will be forever ingrained in my memory. But it’s fine.
He tilts his head, no doubt running silent scans on my mental state. He’s been pretty dang perceptive so far—I really don’t need him digging around under my skin right now. All the evidence in there is labeled Incriminating .
“You make an excellent fake boyfriend.” My voice isn’t usually this squeaky, is it? “A very believable forgery.”
His mouth twists just a touch. His lips have no right to be that full. With that mouth, if he did kiss me it would be transcendent. Unforgettable.
Focus, Lila.
“And thank you, too.” I exhale a tiny laugh to prove how unaffected I am by all of this. “I know we weren’t expecting the fake boyfriend stuff to kick in just yet.”
“Don’t thank me. It actually makes things easier for me.”
“What things?”
His genuine smile peeks out. “I found a place to take us whitewater rafting.”