12. Vanessa
CHAPTER 12
VANESSA
The weeks pass in a blur, my time is now spent going to class, studying, working, and hanging out with Teddy. The most surprising part is how often we hang out because we want to and not because we have to.
I’ve had more dinners with his parents, most of them spent in silence except for the times his father makes some cutting remark geared at Teddy. Usually aimed at how he’s not good enough, or his past mistakes, or in my opinion the worst of all is when he all but says that Teddy’s stupid.
People like that shouldn’t have the ability to procreate. Not when there are couples out here desperate for a child and either unable to conceive or adopt. Sometimes it’s downright laughable how fucked the world can be.
Sliding into the booth that I now think of as Teddy’s, I pick up a fry and munch on the end of it. “What are you thinking so seriously about?” I reach across and poke the wrinkle forming between his brows. He looks up from his phone with a startled expression like he didn’t hear me sit down. “Not hungry?” I eye his Caesar salad that normally he’s devoured by now, starving from finishing his practice.
“Sorry.” He runs his fingers through his thick brown hair, sticking it up wildly in the front. “I got distracted.”
“Hey, it’s okay. You still have to tip me anyway,” I joke.
He grins, my favorite sly boyish smile of his. “ Just the tip?”
I swat at him and he laughs, ducking away from my hand. “What’s going on though?” I chew on another fry. I’ve been on my feet for several hours already at The Burger Palace and my feet are crying in relief at finally being able to sit down.
“Um…” He scratches at the scruff on his cheeks. “Valentine’s is coming up.”
“Fuck.” I scrunch my nose. “It is?”
“Yeah.” He pokes at a piece of chicken with his fork. “I’m trying to plan something for you.”
I lean close to him and lower my voice, “You remember this isn’t real, right? You don’t have to do anything.”
That wrinkle returns. “Fake or not, I’m doing something for you for Valentine’s Day.”
“For the love of all that is holy, please don’t take me to a fancy restaurant.”
His eyes grow large. “Well, shit .” He scoops up his phone and makes a call while I shrink into the booth. “Hey,” he says when someone picks up, “that reservation I made for McCallister, cancel that. Yeah. Yep. Mhmm. Thanks.” He hangs up. “Pretend you didn’t see that.”
“I’m so sorry,” I blurt. “I didn’t know you?—”
He holds up a hand to silence me. “Don’t be sorry. I’m glad you said something. I’d rather do something you’d like and honestly, I hate fancy restaurants too. You know I’ve never had a girlfriend before, fake or not.” He gives an awkward shrug. “I’m kind of learning all new things here.”
“Well, every girl is different, and I like things simple,” I admit, taking the tomato off my sandwich. Our cook knows I hate them and now puts them on everything just to spite me. One time I got home and found a slice in a baggy stuffed into my backpack. “I’d be happy sitting in the car eating fast-food or taking a walk through a park. Ooh, or even going to the animal shelter and walking the dogs and petting the kitties.” I light up at the idea.
“Interesting,” he muses, finally eating his dinner. He taps the side of his head. “Keep going, I’m taking notes.”
“I actually haven’t given it much thought before. I’ve never had a boyfriend either, at least not one that’s real.” I snort, thinking about the irony that I was in a fake relationship my freshman year of high school—unbeknownst to me of course—and now history is repeating itself for my senior year of college. At least this time I’m in on the secret.
“Look at us,” he wags a finger between us, “we’re learning together. Now come on, Van, I’m sure you’ve got something more for me.”
I sigh, twisting my lips back and forth. “Fine, I have to admit that while it’s corny I’ve always seen those cheap stuffed animals and candy chocolate hearts and been a little jealous that I didn’t have a guy to buy me any.” Picking up a fry, I break it in half, mortified at myself for admitting that. “What about you?” I counter, desperate to shuck the attention from myself and onto him.
“What about me?” He scratches at his eyebrow.
“What would you want to do for your ideal Valentine’s day?”
“Honestly, everything you’ve said sounds really nice. I guess because of the way I grew up I’ve been taught to think of most things from a showy standpoint and not a sentimental one, but now that I think about it, just hanging out with the girl I care about, watching some movies and eating pizza, making love to her after…” His gaze drifts away, lost in his thoughts. “Yeah,” he nods after a moment, “that sounds nice.”
“There’s a lot to be said for keeping things simple,” I muse, staring at my sandwich. “Not everything has to be some grand event. I think when you’re with someone you really care about it doesn’t matter what you’re doing as long as you’re together.” Drifting back to myself, I give him a sheepish smile. “Seriously, though, this isn’t … we aren’t … what I mean is, I don’t expect you to do or get me anything for Valentine’s.”
“Van?”
“Yes?”
“Shut up.”
I chuckle. “Right, okay.”
He rests his arms on the table and leans closer to me. I notice every fleck of gold in the depths of his forest green eyes. It’s unfair for a guy to be blessed with such beautiful colored eyes, and if that wasn’t enough, they’re framed by the longest, thickest curled lashes I’ve ever seen.
“You should know by now, I do what I want, and if that means doing something special for my fake-girlfriend on Valentine’s Day, I damn well will.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re kind of a strange guy? I mean that in a good way, but?—”
He sweeps his fingers through the air. “A time or two. Now,” he clears his throat, his lips pursed as he levels me with a look like he’s a prosecutor and I’m a witness on the stand, “I have to add to your fake-girlfriend duties.” I must make some sort of face because he chuckles and adds, “I swear it’s not that bad.”
“What do you need?”
“Baseball season is starting, and I want you in the stands cheering me on.”
“Oh,” I sigh in relief, grateful it’s not something that involves his parents. His mom isn’t so bad, in fact she’s kind of sweet, and I can see she loves Teddy, but his dad? I thought he was bad the first time I met him, but after Teddy told me about the abuse, I have absolutely no tolerance for the man. “That could be fun.”
He chuckles. “It’s definitely not dinner with my parents.”
It’s like he can read my thoughts sometimes. I don’t know if it’s that they’re so obvious on my face or he’s just that intuitive.
“And thank God for that.”
He laughs fully this time and I’m glad that despite the shit he’s had to endure, Teddy still has a sense of humor. He’s never let the serious stuff weigh too heavily on him, and I haven’t told him, but I envy him for that. After what my sister and Tristan pulled, I definitely let it eat away at me and affect who I was as a person for a long time.
“Ugh,” I groan, looking at the time on my phone. “I need to get back to work.”
He frowns at his half-eaten salad and pushes the bowl away. “Forget this shit. I’m sick of it. Bring me a chocolate milkshake. I promise to tip real good. Nice and slow.”
I roll my eyes as I stand, gathering my stuff. “How on earth did you con me into this again?”
“Simple.” He leans back in the booth with a smirk. I feel a tingle in my pussy from that dangerous smile and curse my treacherous body for thinking we can go there. I won’t toe that line with him. “We needed each other.”
He’s not wrong, and it’s beginning to scare me the more I realize how close we’ve grown, because the end of this arrangement should be a clean break, but I’m not sure it will be, and I’m terrified of the fallout. I’ve had my world obliterated before. I’m not sure I can handle a second time.
It’s a reminder to hold my heart close.
I can’t fall for my fake-boyfriend. That’s trouble with a capital T.