I rested my left wrist on the top of my steering wheel. “Whatever you think is good with me.”
“Okay,” she said, letting out a breath of air. “So I guess we need to talk about PDA, then.”
I gave her a mischievous grin. “I think you know where I stand on that.”
She rolled her eyes at me, but I didn’t miss the smile she was trying not to show. “Well, some of us have boundaries. I know you’re up for anything and everything, but I’m not.”
“I didn’t think you would be, so you’ll need to set the boundaries since we both know I don’t have any.”
“Fine.” She sat there for a minute before continuing. “Josh and I weren’t very touchy in public, so we could be one of those couples who aren’t constantly touching. But then again, is anyone going to believe that someone like you, who was all over random women, wouldn’t be all over his girlfriend? That right there is going to raise a red flag. But I don’t particularly want you being too handsy with me. Ugh. This is going to require me to get out of my comfort zone.”
She was doing the fast-talking thing again, causing me to smile at her once more.
“What?” she asked, her eyes looking at me with suspicion. “What are you smiling about?”
“You.” I answered, catching her off guard. “You’re cute when you ramble.”
Her look of surprise turned to skepticism. “Rambling is not cute.” She pulled her hair over one of her shoulders. “I’m a nervous wreck over here, trying to figure out how we are going to make this believable. You’ve never been in a relationship, I’ve only been in one, and I’m beginning to realize how crappy it really was. You are a commitment-phobe, I’m wanting to work on myself, and then on top of all that, neither of us want to do this.”
She had valid points. I had definitely put us in a crap situation, and I genuinely felt bad about it.
“Isla, I’m sorry.” It was a lame attempt at an apology, but I was truly sorry.
Silence settled between us. I kept glancing at her, waiting for her to say something. Her brow was furrowed, and I could see the wheels turning in her head. What was she thinking? I was just about to ask her to think out loud when she finally broke the silence.
She pushed back her shoulders with a look of determination on her face. “You know what? Forget rules. Anything goes.”
My brows shot up. “Anything?”
“Notanything, anything, like I’m not sleeping with you, and don’t even think about grabbing a boob,” she said, pointing a finger at me. “But yeah, let’s just play it all by ear. Improv, if you will, whatever needs to be done to sell it in the moment.”
Was she serious? Not that I was going to take advantage of her and how she wasn’t putting any rules in place. I may be a man-slut, but I still considered myself a gentleman.
Glancing over at her, I asked, “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I trust you. I don’t think you’re going to turn all pervy on me.”
Okay, then. If that’s what she wanted, then that’s what we’d do. “So we just go with the flow.”
“Yep.” She nodded. “If this is going to work, we’re going to have to legit be actors, like get into the role. Every time we’re together in public it will be like we are on set, giving everyone a show. Then as soon as we’re alone, it will be end scene, and we’ll be our normal selves, going back to our normal friendship.” She said it all like it was so simple, and I could only hope it would be.
“We’re going to be the best freakin’ couple in the world,” she continued. “And afterwards, our acting skills will be deserving of an Emmy.”
Was I a good enough actor for this?
Ha. I laughed at myself. Yeah, I was totally a good enough actor. I acted all the time, putting on a façade of how I was completely happy and didn’t constantly work to not think about my mom or what had happened to my dad afterward. If I could do that, this should be easy.
“And what about the break-up?” I asked.
She waved her hand, dismissing my comment. “We’ll worry about that when the time comes. Right now, we’re in the madly-in-love, can’t-get-enough-of-each-other phase.”
Swallowing, I tried to ignore the nauseous feeling in my stomach those words caused.
Her laugh filled the car. “Do you need a barf bag?”
“Possibly,” I admitted. “I’m not a big fan of the L-word.” Acting like I was hot for her was one thing, but acting like I was in love with her? Yeah, I didn’t know if I could do that.
She clapped me on the shoulder, not looking the least bit sympathetic. “You’re going to have to pull on your big boy pants, my friend, because we’re going to pull off the biggest lie Waterford University has ever seen.”
