I let out a heavy sigh as I walked out to my Jeep to drive back to the apartment building. I’d thought it a hundred times and I’d probably think it a hundred more times, but I had single-handedly put us in a crappy, messed-up situation, and I hated that I’d done this to Isla. She didn’t deserve to have to pretend to date someone like me, especially right after dating that loser of a boyfriend for four years. She deserved to enjoy the rest of her junior year and date whomever she wanted for real.
But I’d gotten us into this mess, and so I’d have to do my part to help us get through it.
The only thing I could do to help the situation now was to be the best damn boyfriend ever and to make sure her reputation didn’t get tarnished.
I pulled up to our building, turned off my Jeep, and made my way up the stairway.
Knocking on her door, I waited, hoping her roommate wouldn’t be home. It had taken me a few seconds to place her yesterday when I’d come over, but I remembered that night she’d been referring to at the Wolf’s Den and how she wouldn’t take no for an answer. It had taken a lot of effort on my part to politely detach her body from mine, multiple times. I’d been honest when I’d told Isla I didn’t sleep with just anyone. Her roommate, Harper, had all the red flags.
The door swung open, and Isla stood there with her bag slung over one shoulder, looking up at me with a smile. As I took her in from head to toe, there was no denying I was attracted to her. I loved how her clothes accentuated her feminine curves, giving off just the right amount of classy-but-sexy. My eyes lingered on her chest, where she was showing a hint of cleavage.
“Hey, fake boyfriend,” she said in an amused tone. “Save those looks for when we’re out in public.”
Her words had me lifting my gaze and smiling. “I’m really glad my fake girlfriend is so hot.”
She rolled her eyes, laughing as she pushed past me and out into the hallway. “We really do need to work on your pick-up lines.”
I chuckled. “Wait.” I lifted the bag I was holding. “Don’t you want to see what I got you?”
“Aww, for me?” She placed her hands over her heart and feigned endearment. She took the bag and opened it, pulling out the jersey.
A genuine smile filled her face as she held it out in front of her. “This will fit much better. Thank you.” She put her arms down. “Are you sure I can’t pay you for it?”
“Yes, I wanted to buy it for you,” I assured her. “It’s the least I can do for making you pretend to date me.”
“That’s true,” she mused. “It’s hard to have to pretend to date the most eligible bachelor at Waterford.”
“Ha, ha.” She was teasing me, and even though I was giving her a deadpan look, I loved it.
She smiled at her own joke. “Let me just put this in my room, and then we can go.”
She hurried and walked back into her room, returning quickly then closing and locking the front door.
Looking over her shoulder at me, she started to walk away. “C’mon, lover boy.”
I shook my head, smiling as I followed behind her. “Lover boy?”
“Would you prefer big daddy?” she teased as we walked down the steps.
I laughed. “Definitely not big daddy. I’m not really into the pet names thing.”
We reached my Jeep, and I opened the door for her, waiting for her to climb in before I shut the door.
Rounding the front of the Jeep, I opened my door and climbed in next to her.
She pointed to the coffee cup that was on her side of the console. “Is that for me?” She sounded surprised, but I wasn’t quite sure why.
“Yeah. Cream and sugar, right?”
She was still staring at the cup but hurried to look back up at me once she realized she hadn’t answered me yet. “Yes, that’s perfect. Thank you.” She picked up the drink, took a sip, and let out an appreciative moan. “This tastes amazing.”
My lips quirked up in a side smile. “Good. I’m glad.”
We made it to our kinesiology class with a few minutes to spare, and it was just enough time to show our classmates that we were indeed a couple now.
We walked into class hand in hand, and I tried to ignore how good her hand felt in mine. I wasn’t a hand holder. That had always been a couples thing, and I hadn’t ever wanted any part in it. The last time I could remember truly holding someone’s hand was my mother’s.
The familiar pang that shot through my chest at the thought of her had me shaking my head and refocusing on the stellar acting job I was supposed to be doing.
