CHAPTER 5 #2
“Why not?” The words came out of me unbidden, almost indignant. Offended. Gross, he’d said earlier when I’d thrown the hypothetical out. “It’s such a horrible thought? Kissing me?”
“I wouldn’t do something without knowing you wanted it.” Jamie didn’t glance over, but his fingers tightened on the wheel. “And you wouldn’t have wanted me to kiss you. Right?”
He could never know, I decided then and there. He could never know what I’d thought. What I’d imagined. What I’d nearly done. “Right.” I quickly tossed my head to the side. “I’m surprised you even thought of it, though. I never would’ve thought about pretending that with you.”
Jamie shifted in his seat. “It was just… impulse, I guess.”
Impulse. Sure. He’d grabbed my hips without hesitation, leaned into me as if it’d been as easy as breathing—or like he was finally doing something he’d always held himself back from. Impulse.
Jamie was such a liar. He totally read romance novels.
Thank God my neighborhood wasn’t that far from Biscayne Park, and Jamie pulled into the driveway slowly, dodging the giant pothole in the asphalt. All the lights in the house were off, and it wasn’t until then that I’d remembered my fear of whether or not the kids had been in bed.
I reached for my seatbelt, but a second before I could unlatch it, Jamie reached over and covered my fingers with his own. His skin was cold, as if the air conditioning had been blowing directly on him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, gaze tense in the dashboard lights. Nervous. His lips parted, but he hesitated for a moment before going on. “I overstepped. I—I know you said you didn’t want to fake date anyone. I should’ve—no, I shouldn’t have—”
“I’m embarrassed,” I admitted, and wanted to stop there. I forced myself to look into his eyes, to not flinch away. “Of the way I act around Dalton. That I almost…” Kissed him.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” he murmured immediately, gently, always understanding.
“You’re my best friend, Jamie. You’re allowed to take the reins when you think it’s good for me.”
Jamie’s eyes didn’t soften at that, and he didn’t smile either, both of which I expected. In the dark lights, his expression almost looked haunted. “How do you know I’ll do what’s good for you?”
“Because you’re the most selfless person I know. I trust you.”
His eyes dropped from mine, drifting toward the stereo. “Selfless,” he echoed, like he didn’t know what the word meant.
“You kissed me even though you thought it was gross,” I pointed out, feigning nonchalance. “You took one for the team.”
Jamie looked at my neck, eyes tracing the same area his lips had touched earlier. I could feel my chest hum with tension, wrapping around me so tightly that it hurt to breathe. Jamie’s voice was soft when he spoke. “I’d do anything for you.”
The things I do for you, Daisy Carmichael.
It was like an electrical shock to my skin.
I pulled my hand out from underneath Jamie’s and pushed at his shoulder, probably harder than I should’ve.
Pushing at him just felt like pushing away the weirdness, and I needed to put all my strength into it.
“See? Selfless. Look it up in the dictionary—it’s totally going to be your face staring back. ”
The unease didn’t disappear from his expression, but the tightness around his mouth lessened.
I unlatched my seatbelt—ignoring my shaking hands as I did so—and I hurried to push my door open. “I’ll see you tomorrow? To go over our fake dating rulebook?”
Jamie nodded, watching as I climbed out of the car.
I shut the door behind me, but Jamie quickly rolled down the window.
“We’ll also need to practice a little,” he said, leaning down to see me straight-on.
For the first time since our kiss, he had a true smile on his face.
Soft. Normal. Jamie. “Because your acting skills need some work.”
My jaw dropped. “My acting skills!” I pointed at him as a chuckle drifted out of the car. “You—you caught me off guard! That’s hardly fair—”
Jamie rolled the window back up before I could finish. I knocked on the glass, but he started reversing, his grin still visible through the windshield.
“You’re dead meat, Jamie!” I shouted at him, my voice echoing in the quiet night, but I didn’t care. Finally, my spunk felt like it’d returned to me, and I latched onto it. I dragged my thumb across my throat. “Dead meat!”
Jamie flashed his high beams at me before he pulled completely out of my driveway, and I flashed him a particular finger.
As his taillights became distant down the road, I turned around to head into the house. “My acting skills,” I muttered, and my hand found its way unconsciously to my neck, pressing at the same spot Jamie’s lips had. His soft, gentle lips.
Tonight had been seared into my brain, surely, but out of everything that’d happened, there was one moment in particular I’d never forget.
The intense look on Jamie’s face a second before he leaned into me, and the sound of his voice.
The things I do for you, Daisy Carmichael.
The words had been breathy, as if pulled from the back of his throat against his will.
And then, caving in defeat, he’d fallen forward.
But there was another image seared into my mind—Dalton’s face. His wide eyes. His parted lips. Any fiery confusion that Jamie had stirred up in me cooled as I remembered why he’d done it in the first place. For that specific reaction from my ex-boyfriend.
Even now, after everything, something traitorous stirred inside me. I wanted to text Dalton, to explain the situation, to tell him it hadn’t been real. But I didn’t have his number, and Nellie and Jamie would kill me, and it was impossible.
He’s no good for me, I thought to myself sternly. Like if I could think the words enough times, I’d finally believe them. Dalton is no good for me.
As much as I wanted to come clean about the fake relationship, take Dalton up on his proposal to pick up where we left off—as much as my heart hurt at the prospect—I’d go all in. I’d be the most convincing fake girlfriend in the world.
I shook my head as I unlocked the front door. One thing was for sure, though—Jamie didn’t have to worry about my acting skills. I was pretty sure his skills could carry this team well enough for the both of us.