Chapter 19 #2
“Uh-huh. Sure.” He finally starts the truck and begins to drive down the long gravel driveway, but he doesn’t take his eyes off me. I can tell that he isn’t going to let this go easily.
As we reach a stoplight, my phone lights up with another new text message. We both look at the screen, but it’s not Tina this time.
Malcolm
Do you prefer strawberry or chocolate?
I frown, puzzled by the odd question. I look up at Oliver to see if he read it. His eyes are on me again, but the amusement that was there before is gone. He clears his throat and looks back at the road.
“I guess there’s my answer,” he says.
I look back at my phone, then up at him again. I open my mouth to speak, but he beats me to it.
“You don’t owe me an explanation.” He stares at the road, his expression hard.
I watch him. Even though he’s right, because this is none of his business, I get this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I feel like I need to explain myself. I try to loosen the seatbelt around my chest. “I honestly don’t know why he would ask me a question like that.”
“This is the second time he’s texted you late in the evening while we’re together.”
“Odd timing.” I don’t know why I feel so bad about Oliver thinking that I’m lying to him. What we have isn’t real. I don’t owe him anything. Even so, I don’t want him to think that something is going on between me and Malcolm.
“Or maybe him texting you at night is a common occurrence?” Oliver says.
My phone buzzes again. I turn it away before Oliver can read it.
Malcolm
I just realized how weird that question might have seemed out of the blue. My assistant is ordering crepes for our meeting tomorrow morning. Just trying to figure out what kind to order.
I let out a laugh, then turn my phone around for Oliver to see. “There. Now you can stop being weird.”
As he’s reading my phone, I can feel a quick buzz as another text message comes through. I resist the urge to snatch my phone away from him to see what else Malcolm says. Oliver’s face remains serious as he reads, and then he smirks again.
“If you’re really not into him, then I think you have a problem on your hands.”
I frown. “Huh?” I turn my phone back to see the new message.
Malcolm
Really looking forward to seeing you tomorrow!
I look back up at Oliver. “He’s just being nice.” I send a quick text to Malcolm to tell him that I like strawberries, then put my phone away.
“Yeah. Nice,” Oliver says. “He’s going to find a way to ask you out tomorrow.”
I watch him, trying to figure out why he’s being so weird about this.
He’s made it very clear that our pretend relationship is just a show for Tina and Ryan.
I was only joking when I told him he didn’t need to be jealous the other day, but if I didn’t know any better, I might think he is.
I don’t know why he would feel that way.
It’s not like he’s ever had a shortage of girlfriends, and I’m sure I’m the last person on his mind when he goes to bed at night.
I shrug. “Maybe I’ll say yes.”
We reach Lana’s dance studio where my car is parked. Oliver stops the truck and leans back in his seat, quiet for a moment.
“Thanks for the ride,” I tell him. “See you later.”
I start to open the door.
“Is that what you want?” he asks.
I stop, halfway out of the truck. “To see you later?”
“No, I mean Malcolm. You want to go out with him?”
I shrug. “He’s rich. Handsome. Cares about what flavor crepe I like. Why not?”
He taps each of his fingers as he lists out his reasons: “He became a millionaire by running a charity. Something seems off about that. He definitely had plastic surgery on his nose. And who even orders crepes for a business meeting?”
“It’s a business breakfast,” I remind him.
“Most people get bagels or doughnuts,” he says. “He’s just trying to show off.”
I frown, thinking about the other reasons he gave. I hop all the way out of the truck. To my surprise, Oliver gets out too and comes around to my side. I close the passenger door and step up next to my car.
“How do you know he got a nose job?” I ask.
He smiles and pulls his phone out of his pocket. He taps his screen, then turns it around to show me a picture of Malcolm. “This is what he looks like now.” He swipes his thumb across the screen. “And this is what he looked like ten years ago.”
My eyes go wide. I can’t believe it. “I never would have guessed.” His nose is about half the size it was ten years ago.
“Noses don’t just shrink,” Oliver says. “That’s a charity-funded nose job right there.”
“We don’t know that. Maybe he used to be a liar and he’s not anymore.”
Oliver smirks. “He’s not Pinocchio.”
I lean against my car. “I’m curious about how you found these pictures. Why were you looking him up?”
He tries to hide his smile, but he can’t. “I was curious about who your big new client was.”
“I didn’t know you were so interested in my career.”
“Maybe I just wanted to know who my girlfriend was out on a date with.”
Even though I know it’s not real, when he calls me his girlfriend, my knees start to buckle. It’s a good thing I’m leaning against my car. “Fake girlfriend,” I remind him. “And it wasn’t a date.”
His mouth twitches. “We’ll see about that.”
He steps closer to me so that he’s angled in front of me, his chest in front of my shoulder.
I turn my head and look up at him. His eyes dip down before returning to mine.
I want to ask him what he means, but the words seem to freeze before they can get past my lips.
He reaches his hand around my side. Every nerve ending in my skin stands at attention, waiting to feel his hand close around my waist and pull me in for a kiss, but he doesn’t move any closer, and he doesn’t touch me. He opens my door instead.
My chest falls. He’s sending me home without a goodbye kiss. It’s not like I should expect one. I don’t even know why I want one.
“Goodnight, Priscilla,” he says. “Enjoy your strawberry crepe tomorrow.”
I frown. “How did you know I chose strawberry?”
The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Because I know you.”
He takes a step back and walks away before I can say anything else. I drop my body into my seat and let out a long breath. Somehow his words feel more intimate than a kiss might have been.