"I'm kidding," he says, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye. "God, your face. Worth it though."
"So you didn't actually have a ridiculous nickname?"
"Oh no, I absolutely did. But it was 'Monty' – way less dramatic. Though I prefer what my friends call me." He leans forward, elbows on the table. "Like I said at the club. You can just call me Bash."
"Okay, Bash," I say.
"See? Much better than 'Your Majesty.'"
"Marginally," I say dryly. "Though I reserve the right to call you Sebastian when you're annoying me."
"Fair enough." His smile is soft now, genuine. "Though I think we both know I'll be working overtime to keep you calling me Bash."
"Right. Next up, we should probably discuss PDA," I say, pushing my plate away. "My parents will expect a certain amount of... couple-y behavior."
"Such as?"
"Handholding. Maybe an arm around my waist. Nothing too excessive."
"And kissing?" His eyes drop to my mouth.
I swallow hard. "Minimal. A peck here and there for appearances."
"We should probably practice." His voice is teasing, but there's a heat behind it that makes my pulse jump.
"That won't be necessary. We've already..." I trail off, not wanting to bring up our night together.
"Already what, Charlie?" His smile is downright wicked now.
I narrow my eyes. "You know exactly what."
"I have a pretty good memory, yes." He leans forward, lowering his voice. "But my point stands. If we're supposed to be a couple, we should be comfortable with casual affection. People who've been together for months shouldn't get flustered by a simple touch."
As if to prove his point, he reaches across the table and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. The brief contact sends a shiver down my spine.
"See? You tensed up. Dead giveaway."
"I did not."
"Your pupils dilated."
"That's just the wine."
He grins. "If you say so."
I sit back and cross my arms. "Fine. You may have a point. But we're not 'practicing' anything in public."
"Whatever you say, boss." He signals for the check. "So, we leave for Colorado in...?"
"Three days, on the 15th."
"Perfect. That gives me time to brush up on my skiing lingo."
"I thought you were a snowboarder."
"I am. But my fake girlfriend prefers skiing, so I should probably be prepared to join her."
The simple declaration shouldn't make my heartbeat faster, but it does.
