24. Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Four
Nick
My heart pounds in my chest as I imagine lifting Eliza into the air, setting her on the tailgate of my truck, and getting lost in her thick, sweet lips. My body pumps with excitement as I recall the way she tasted, and the way it felt to have my hands on her.
She’s everything I’ve ever wanted .
I could spend the rest of my life kissing the woman, and the thought of her body against mine has been on repeat. My head has done nothing but run wild ever since last night. And I’m pretty sure, because of that, I inadvertently wrecked myself with what Eliza and I could be .
She gave me a glimpse of what it would be like to be the guy there with her and her family. It was an incredible feeling. Her family welcomed me with open arms, and honestly, something about the entire night—despite being completely fake—felt right. And I know , Eliza and I could be something really great.
But it doesn’t even matter.
Because none of it was real to her.
She only sees me as “a really great friend.”
I run my fingers through my dark hair. In truth, I thought there was something there, and I thought the kiss sealed the deal.
She really kissed me back.
I felt everything that someone should feel when they spend time with their significant other. From the laughs to stolen glances to the incredible freaking kiss.
However, as it turns out, I think that Eliza should go to work in Hollywood, because she could be nominated for best actress. If it wasn’t so painful, it would be impressive.
Jeez, I’m being bitter.
I chide myself for thinking so harshly about the entire situation. I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to be her fake boyfriend, and it should be no surprise that my plan didn’t exactly work.
My heart sinks at the notion.
But maybe it’s time to just let it all go.
Besides, what am I gonna do? Kiss her again ?
If I did that, I might end up spilling my true feelings for her, and I don’t know what would happen if I did that. And that’s exactly why I’ve been so tight-lipped about my feelings.
I have no clue what would happen .
I don’t want her to run away, or feel pressured to be anything other than what she’s comfortable with.
And I certainly don’t want to end up in a scenario where she never speaks to me again.
“Not bad for Black Friday.” Mom beams as she leans against the butcher block counter of the store. “Though, I think maybe next year we should run more sales. I don’t feel like we live up to the idea of what Black Friday really is. But then again, our profit margins aren’t nearly as wide as some of those bigger stores. I don’t know how they do it.”
I shrug. “I don’t think it really makes a difference how they do it—or that we try to compete with them. No one wants to come here for a half-priced can of paint when they can get a half-priced flat-screen TV.”
She makes a face, her eyebrows closing the distance to her hairline. “Oh? Aren’t you the one who suggested we do this sale in the first place? We used to be closed the day after Thanksgiving. I always liked the fact we took the last half of Thanksgiving week off. It was a good break … and Lord knows we need a good break from this place sometimes.”
“I don’t know,” I say thoughtfully. “It seemed like a good idea at the time, and maybe for those who are working on projects over the holidays, it pays off. But now, it just seems like people would rather spend their money somewhere other than the local hardware store on Black Friday. We’ve got nothin’ on Walmart. And like I said, when weighing the difference between a hammer or a TV, I know which one I’m picking … and it’s not the hammer.”
Mom laughs, and then pokes me in the arm. “I disagree. I know for sure that you’d be all over a sale on your favorite hammer.” She pauses, tightening the bun on the back of her head. Her laugh fades into a sigh as she continues. “But, I have to ask, why are you being such a Debbie Downer today, son? You sound like a Scrooge, and that’s not really you. You’re usually the one walking around with a huge grin—even if we run a little slow on the biggest sale day of the year. Did something happen last night with Eliza?”
Oof.
“Not really,” I lie, not wanting to even go there. I never hide things from her, but this entire freaking mess is one that she wouldn’t approve of. And she’d probably tell me for the hundredth time to just tell Eliza how I really feel about her.
But it’s pointless when Eliza makes it clear that we’re just friends.
You’re a good friend, Nick.
I clench my jaw as her words echo in my head. Maybe the kiss wasn’t for her what it was for me—and I can’t even be mad at her for that.
You can’t force yourself to feel something that’s not there.
“You know, if things aren’t going the way you want them to with Eliza,” Mom begins, eyeing me carefully. “There’s nothing wrong with creating a little space from her. I know how heartbreaking it can be to love someone that doesn’t feel the same way about you. It’s not always worth the heartache to stay close. It’s honorable, yes, but sometimes you have to put yourself first, and that’s not something you ever do, Nick.”
That gets my attention. Well, one word grabs me.
I let out a sigh. “I never said that I love her.”
Mom’s lips go flat. “Nick, you don’t have to say it. I know you do. I’m pretty sure you’d do just about anything for her…”
I’m silent, and the realization makes it that much worse.
“Maybe I should take some space from her. I just … I just keep thinking that something’s going to change, and right when I feel like it’s about to, she reminds me of our friendship.”
“It sounds like a classic case of—”
My phone ringing cuts my mom off, and I dig my cell phone out of my pocket, half expecting it to be Daniel. However, my heart jumps—per usual—when I see it’s Eliza calling me. I flash the screen to Mom, and she gives me a good luck look before sauntering off to greet a few straggling customers.
“Hey,” Eliza says as soon as I answer. “How’s your Black Friday sale going?”
“Uh, it’s fine.”
“Okay … well, what’re you up to this evening?”
I breathe out a sigh, trying to come up with some excuse not to see her. Except I don’t want to come up with an excuse, and the conflict inside my head results in my saying nothing .
“Um, well,” Eliza says to my silence. “If you’re not busy, we’d really like for you to join us for family movie night. It’s kind of a tradition. The day after Thanksgiving, we start the Christmas season off with a bang by watching two Christmas movies. They’re not always the same ones, either. It’s fun. I mean, I know it sounds lame … but … it’s actually fun … I think.” She lets out a heavy breath, and I nearly chuckle, giving in to the way her voice makes everything feel right.
But then I remind myself of what she said after our life-altering kiss.
“I don’t know if that’s the best idea,” I say instead of accepting the invite. “Don’t you think we’ve pretended enough?” There’s silence for a moment, and I pull the phone away from my ear to make sure she hasn’t hung up. “Eliza?”
“Um, yeah, sorry,” she says quickly. “I get what you’re saying, and you don’t have to come if you don’t want to. I don’t want you to feel obligated to come. I just … I just thought that you might enjoy it. And my family loves you.”
But do you, Eliza?
I push away the thought. “It’s … I…” Ugh. “I’ll go. Just send me the time. I won’t be able to stay for long though, I have to work tomorrow.”
“That’s totally fine, and I’m sure that everyone will understand.” Her voice perks up. “I’ll make sure I don’t keep you up too late. You’re literally the best. You’ve made this Thanksgiving the best one yet. ”
“Good to know,” I grunt, ignoring the way my heart stutters when she talks to me like that. “Just text me what time I need to show up, and I’ll be there.”
“How about you swing by right after work? That’ll give us more time together,” she adds, before coughing. “With my parents and everything.”
“Yeah, that’s fine.” I keep my voice flat. “I’ll see you then.”
“See you.” She says before hanging up the phone.
I drop it back into my pocket, trying to ignore the fact that I’m excited about the prospect of cuddling with her on the couch—even if it’s fake.
It might be the closest I’ll ever get to be to her.
I swallow the little bit of hurt that comes with that thought. It’s the truth, though. Once she fakes a breakup with me, I won’t be seeing her family anymore. And dang, that’s depressing, too.
“So, got any plans tonight?” Mom raises a brow at me.
“Yeah,” I say carefully, gauging her response.
She smiles. “She sure likes to see you a lot.”
That’s because I’m her fake boyfriend.