“Do you have a pen?” Vivienne asks after swallowing her bite, completely ignoring my question. I pat the pockets of my trousers to check when I hear a triumphant, “Never mind!”
The ballpoint tip scratches against her skin until the ink runs. With careful strokes,Fake Engagement Rulesis written across the white napkin—the words faint and the delicate tissue already ripping from the pressure.
“You said it, this engagement-ship has no solid rules, so we’ll need to set them.”
“Okay?”The word slips out, thick with confusion.
The task was simple: convince the world we’re deeply in love. The only rule I’d think would apply is don’tentirelyhate each other—something I assumed we already put past us.
Vivienne eyes me from beneath thick lashes, making sure I’m paying careful attention.
“Rule number one,” she emphasizes by writing down the digit. “No straight-up flirting.”
I blink thrice.
Is this what my personality is being reduced to?
“None of that was considered flirting,” I argue.
“You literally said, and I quote, ‘Am I not allowed to flirt with my fiancée?’”
Okay, I did say that, but again, it’s part of the personality.
“Some might consider it flirting, but I consider it lighthearted teasing with a dash of playful charm. Excuse you for getting the two mixed up.”
Vivienne rolls her eyes, letting my seemingly poor excuse slide. And honestly, I’m quite pleased that she leaves it at that,for no other reason than I like teasing her. It’s fun, and not too serious—I need both with everything else going on in my life.
“Rule number two—no touching unless we’re in public. In private, we need to distance ourselves. That includes catching me if I’m about to fall. I’ll deal with the blisters myself.”
“What kind of rules are these?”
“The kind that’ll prevent a heartbreak.”
“The only thing you’ll be breaking is your body. Let’s face it, Vivienne, you don’t have a good track record of avoiding situations that can injure you.”
Granted, I had slight implications in causing a couple of those accidents, but I was also there to save her. In the grand scheme of things, they all cancel each other out.
“Rule number three—no catching feelings for each other, and if it happens, keep it to yourself until the arrangement is over. It’ll save us from having this all explode in our faces.”
Now it’s my cue to roll my eyes. “Nobody is going to catch feelings, Vivienne.”
“I know I won’t, but with your track record of excessive flirting, I’ll never know what’s real and what’s fake.”
“We’ve gone over this; it is not excessive flirting—it’s called having apersonality. Do you know the definition of the word?” I taunt.
“The combination of characteristics or quality that form an individual’s distinctive character,” she recites before slapping a hand over her mouth. “Oh my God.” Her eyes widen in shock.
I can’t stop the laughter from spilling out of me, hand clutching onto my stomach as the muscles start to cramp.
The first time she did this, I thought it was out of spite. Now, I can’t help but think this is in her DNA.
“I promised myself I’d never do that again,” she says, still shell-shocked.
“A walking dictionary—I’ll call you next time I need help.”
She frowns.
I smile.
