Chapter 19
19
WHATEVER IS FLOATING IN THAT HEAD OF YOURS, NO
Sam
How’s dinner with loverboy? ??
I roll my eyes at the incoming text message. I had picked it up, grateful for the distraction from the movie I was made to watch after losing a game of rock-paper-scissors with Riley when we finished with dinner, but now I’m regretting picking up my phone at all when I read the message.
Amelia
He’s not my loverboy. We’re just friends.
Amelia
Dinner was good…watching a movie called Caddyshack?
Sam
Whatever you have to tell yourself, babe. I’ve never known you to willingly watch a movie made before 1995. AND SEND A PHOTO! I need to know what he looks like!!
Sam
p.s. “Thank you very little.”
If I didn’t just hear that quote from the movie ten minutes ago, I would have no idea what Sam’s talking about. She was always a sucker for any comedy film, regardless of year, so it doesn’t surprise me one bit that she’d be a fan of this movie.
Sam and Riley have so much in common that they should probably date, they clearly have the same taste in movies, they’re both tall and good looking, and they… the thought comes to an abrupt halt in my mind and makes my chest tighten with jealousy.
I have no clue why the pang of envy at the complete hypothetical scenario of Sam and Riley together washes over me so suddenly. Riley isn’t mine. Sam is single. Riley is single. Those facts should be enough for me not to care, but they aren’t. Riley might just be a friend, but he has become my safe space over the weeks and I’m just not ready to wrap him up like a Christmas present to give to someone else, even if it were to my best friend.
Who’s to say Riley even wants to be gifted away. He hasn’t mentioned anything about wanting to date or find someone since his ex, so why should I assume that he would even want to meet Sam in a romantic way. The idea of Riley wrapped up and topped with a bow makes me snort under my breath in an attempt to hold back a laugh.
“Ah-ha! Finally!” Riley says, startling me from my thoughts, he sounds triumphant as if conquering what he believed was an unconquerable feat. “I k new you’d find this movie funny!”
I turn to face him, tilting my head in annoyance. “Calm down there, Rye. I wasn’t laughing at the movie.”
“Oh?” Curiosity written all over his face, “then what, pray tell, were you laughing at?” His eyes moves from my eyes down to my phone with suspicion.
I cup my phone with my hands and pull it to my chest. “It’s just Sam,” I spit out. I figure it wouldn’t hurt to tell him who’s texting me, it doesn’t mean I have to divulge the contents of the message.
“Is she still trying to get you to go on that date?”
I panic and blurt a quick, “Yep.” An innocent white lie to get him off my back about what Sam really said. I had hoped it would be enough to end the conversation before the heat I feel rushing to my cheeks are visible in the dim lighting.
Riley’s inquisitive eyes go wide as if he just came up with the best idea in the world and that annoyingly attractive dimple appears as he smiles mischievously towards me.
“Whatever is floating in that head of yours, no.”
“You don’t even know what I was going to say,” he whines.
I point my finger to his face, swirling around his features. “No good can ever come out of a face contorted like that.”
Riley feigns offense. “Objection. Speculation.”
I roll my eyes at his imaginary courtroom argument. “Fine. Spit it out.”
Pressing the mute button on the movie so that he can capture my full attention and turn his body to face me, one arm drapes over the back cushion. “How much do you hate blind dates?”
“You alr eady know the answer to that.” I’m not sure I want to hear where he’s going with this. I already have a hard time focusing on anything when he’s near. I’m afraid if I let him continue I’ll end up agreeing to just about anything he wants.
“Fair, but humor me.”
“More than I hate the idea of a root canal,” I pinch my brows together at the first phrase that comes to mind since I’ve never actually had a root canal but now I’m probably giving Riley the impression that I have dental issues. Very attractive .
If that was where Riley’s mind had gone, he didn’t show it. “Hear me out.” He pauses, bracing for me to freak out. I tilt my head as if to say, carry on. “You can pretend to date me.”
I’m stunned into complete silence. The ability to form a coherent sentence dissipates somewhere in the universe but the ability to form thoughts in my head is definitely working overtime. Questions about the proposition are playing out in my mind bouncing back and forth like a pinball machine.
How do I pretend to date someone?
What does pretending to date someone even mean?
What the hell is pretend dating anyway?
Do I need to brush up on acting skills?
Could I even pretend to date him when I’m so obviously attracted to him?
Where is the line between real dating and fake dating?
Riley obviously senses my panic, grabs my face gently between both hands to look at him. “Let me explain before your head bursts.” His voice is so gentle and usually calming but it isn’t having any of that effect on me now. “You hate going on dates but you’re always asked to because you’re single. You and I can pretend to be dating . That way, you have a valid reason to say no to unwanted prospects and you don’t have to feel guilty about it.”
Pulling my head from his hold to create space between us, eyeing him, I tilt my head with skepticism. “What’s the catch?”
“The catch would be, you’d be doing the same for me,” another pause, “in a sense.”
“I’m not following.”
“You don’t want to be in a relationship right?” I nod in agreement. “I don’t want to be in a relationship, but I also don’t want to go through with the horse and pony show of my brother’s wedding festivities alone.” He lets out an exhausted sigh. “I think I could make it through the dreadful affair if I had you there with me.”
The entire proposal forms into the perfect bigger picture for me. He can play the part of someone who’s moved on to avoid pitiful looks or questioning stares at the upcoming nuptials and I can literally avoid awkward first dates indefinitely.
I want so desperately to say yes, but the uncertainty of ruining a friendship that I’ve grown to love having around poses a risk I don’t know if I am willing to take.
“Your brain is going to combust if you let it keep going around in circles in hyperdrive, Princess.” He taps on my forehead lightly with his forefinger.
He smirks because he knows he can convince me to say yes; he’s so good at convincing people to see it his way that he literally made a career out of it. “Listen, it’s a win-win. Obviously, I sprung the wedding part on you so you can think about that and let me know,” waving his right hand in dismissal, “but the other part, I think you could be much happier if you weren’t always feeling pr essured into a real-life episode of Love Island .”
I know he’s right. I told him the morning we had breakfast together that all I wanted was to be able to do whatever I wanted and to stop being pressured into Sam’s matchmaking schemes. He’s offering me that freedom and isn’t even asking for anything in return besides a date to a few wedding events. Events I honestly don’t even mind the idea of going to. Part of me even wants to go just to stick it to his ex.
There’s just that one tiny little problem I knew existed from the day I met him. If lines were to ever be crossed between us, there would be no stopping me from giving myself fully, and I’m not sure I’d be able to reclaim the parts of myself that would forever belong to him. That scares the hell out of me. I’m not even sure where those lines are now so how can I know where not to step.
But…
If I can draw them now, with definite lines in the sand, lines so deep they can be mistaken for the Mariana Trench, then maybe, just maybe , there’s a chance I’d make it out of this deal intact.
Pinching my bottom lip between my teeth, deep in thought for a few heartbeats before I speak, “if we do this, and that’s a big if , there would need to be rules.”
His lip curves up in a wicked smile. He knows he has won me over, which I don’t quite understand the cause for celebration because, technically, he gains nothing if I agree. He would only gain something if I said yes to being his date to his brother’s wedding, but even then, he isn’t requiring it.
Then I realize he probably isn’t smiling because he has something tangible to gain, he’s probably smiling because it’s the act of winning that excites him. And I like winning , one of the first things he told me about himself the night we met. It’s probably the reason he makes such a good lawyer, he’s driven by the need to win at all cost. Someone that wouldn’t take no for an answer. So often he’s the fun, young at heart playful Riley that makes me feel safe and heard; someone who I can laugh with until my belly aches. I’m not used to seeing this side of Riley, the smile he wears is anything but lighthearted and playful. It’s darker, more determined, a true force to be reckoned with. The usual bright hazel eyes are now only a ring of green and gold around darkened pupils looking back at me and a smile that usually warms my heart is replaced with a sinful grin that makes my core muscles tense.
This Riley Anderson is a man that can seduce and destroy a woman within the same breath— can seduce and destroy me within the same breath —the thought of that should scare me, but instead, it excites me. His voice is a lethal calm, opposite from the intensity in which he stares at me.
“I wouldn’t expect any less from you, Princess.”