Chapter 43 Sarah
SARAH
‘We need to talk,’ Ben said as I walked away from the bar clutching a beer for him and a glass of wine for me.
‘What’s up?’
‘Let’s go for a walk.’
Ben took my hand, led me onto the beach and once he was sure there was no one else around he stopped.
‘Trent’s on to us. He doesn’t believe this’—he gestured between us—‘is real.’
‘That’s just because he can’t believe any other man would be interested in me.’
‘It’s no longer just about him, though. I’ve got a feeling that if we don’t do something dramatic to disprove his theory, he’s going to start raising his concerns with your family.’
‘Wait, what?’
‘He thinks you hired me. And he said that the family won’t be pleased if they discover that the man in their wedding photos is a male escort.’
The thought of my family finding out that I’d been so desperate that I’d effectively hired Ben to be my date was mortifying. It wouldn’t just be embarrassing for me, though, it’d be hurtful for them too.
I’d been so wrapped up in getting my revenge and showing Esme and Trent I was fine that I hadn’t even thought about the fact that I was lying to my family.
When Ben relayed everything Trent had said during their conversation, including the fact that he was now sleeping in the room next door to ours, panic washed over me.
‘Shit.’ I winced. The silence stretched for several beats. I thought about showing them the reel we’d created, but that wouldn’t really prove anything other than the fact that we worked together. ‘So what do you think we should do?’
‘We need to kiss. Somewhere that we’ll be seen.’
‘Right.’ I nodded, the reality of the situation hitting me like a truck.
This morning, after we had that intense eye contact in the bedroom, if Ben had suggested this, I would’ve gladly jumped his bones in two seconds flat. But now I was scared.
I was terrified because I was already finding it hard to resist Ben. If I kissed him, something told me it’d be ten times worse.
Then again, maybe he was a terrible kisser.
Yeah, right.
Anyway, we didn’t have to have a proper snog. In romance novels, sometimes when the male main character gave the heroine a simple forehead kiss, it was just as sexy as a passionate one.
‘So are we in agreement?’ Ben asked.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘When should we do it?’
‘As soon as possible tonight. But first, we should practise. We’ll only make things worse if we kiss and it’s all over the place. It needs to look authentic. Like we’ve done it hundreds of times before.’
Oh God.
This is really happening.
My heart thundered against my chest. I took my glass of wine and downed it in one. Then regretted it. Now I’d have wine breath.
‘Wait, let me get some gum.’ I rummaged around in my bag.
‘You can’t kiss with gum in your mouth.’
‘Good point,’ I said. The nerves were clouding my thoughts.
‘You don’t need it. Are you ready?’ he asked.
‘Yes.’ I straightened my shoulders.
‘Actually, you should kiss me,’ Ben said. ‘Just do it whenever you’re ready.’
‘Okay.’
I looked him in the eye, counted to three, leant forward, quickly pecked him on the lips, then pulled away.
‘Er, what the fuck was that, Jeffries?’ Ben frowned. ‘Do you really think people are going to believe this is real if you kiss me like that? I’m supposed to be your boyfriend, not a dog.’
‘You kiss your dog on the mouth?’
‘That’s what you took from what I said?’ He cocked an unimpressed brow. ‘If you want to make this look authentic, the kiss has to be passionate. Something to make people think that we have explosive chemistry in the bedroom.’
‘Right… okay.’
‘If you’re not comfortable doing that…’
‘No, no,’ I insisted. ‘You’re right.’
This was exactly how it played out in the fake-dating books I read, but I somehow didn’t think I’d have to actually do it.
Really I should say fuck it. If my ex and my sister believe that I’m not good enough to get a man that looks like Ben, then sod what they think. I didn’t want them in my life anyway.
But the other part of me, admittedly the petty part, wanted to. I wanted to feel like a winner for a change, not the loser ugly duckling sister that everyone pitied.
I just wanted to show those arseholes that I was better off without them. I wasn’t just surviving, I was thriving. And if fake kissing Ben would help me to achieve that, then that’s what I’d do.
‘Okay,’ I said, my pulse quickening. ‘We should have a proper passionate practice kiss. But this time, I want you to kiss me.’