Her lips twitched. “You know me too well.”
The server came by. They ordered a selection of tapas, meat and cheese, and grilled vegetables. After the server left, Brooke didn’t waste time getting down to business.
“Besides hashing out the details of our relationship timeline,” she placed her folded hands-on top of the table, “I think we need to make a list of rules for our fake relationship. Rules will ensure neither of us gets confused about what’s real and what isn’t.”
“Umm,” Logan leaned his forearms on the table, leaning in closer to her. “Could you give me an example?”
Brooke unfolded her hands and fished for her clutch. She unsnapped the front of it and retrieved her phone. After she opened up a note saved on it, Brooke slid it across the table toward him.
She motioned at it. “That’s what I came up with.”
Slowly, Logan picked up her phone. The lengthy list included every possible scenario of physical touching. Rules-like when hand holding or arm around the shoulder were okay. A hand on the knee was allowed when it was visible to others. Possible kissing had so many addendums that it made his head spin.
He slid her phone back to her. She snatched it. The list doused whatever had or hadn’t been building between them. It wasn’t lost on him that this wasn’t a date, not even close. To Brooke this was a business deal, a mutually beneficial exchange. The realization depressed him more than it should. After all, hewas the one who had suggested it. But then Brooke showed up looking the way she did.
“I’m not sure any of this is necessary.” Logan found her gaze. “I promise not to do anything to make you feel uncomfortable. If I do, simply tell me to knock it off.” Unnecessarily, he adjusted the ends of his sleeves. “I’m a good listener and take directions better than most.”
“I like to be prepared.” Brooke scrolled through the list again. “And I don’t want to be confused on what’s real and what isn’t. We’ll have to touch. We can’t avoid it.” She placed the phone face down on the table. A seriousness settled on her face. “We need people to think we’re really dating, and you’re into me. Like head over heels, I’m so in love I can’t remember anyone else who came before type of performance.”
Logan knew he wouldn’t need to fake anything. He already found Brooke beautiful.
“Text me the list. I’ll review it tonight.” Logan took a sip of his water. “And I’ll make people believe I’m in love with you. I promise.”
“Great.” Brooke’s stiff posture loosened. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”
“I know it’s hard to believe,” he shifted and leaned back against his chair, “but I have dated before.”
“I never said—” She almost made her hand graze his but she clenched her hand into a fist and brought it back to her lap. “I only know we both need the people in our lives to think we’re in love.”
“I can play the part.”
“I believe you now,” she muttered. A plate dropped three tables away. They both twisted in their seats to look toward the commotion. When they confirmed the situation was under control, they faced each other again. She continued, “I—I?—”
“I understand.” He placed a firm hand on her forearm. “I’ll memorize the list. I’ll play the part. I’ll be the perfect doting boyfriend.”
“Ok.” She gnawed on her bottom lip. “But we’re in agreement, right? No kissing me unless it’s absolutely necessary.” The intimate lighting of the restaurant made her face glimmer and eyes shine brightly.
“The same rule applies to you.” He removed his hand and wagged a finger. “No kissing me no matter how bad you want to. Kissing is for audiences only.”
“Don’t worry,” she locked eyes with him, “that won’t be a problem.”
He hated how disappointed her declaration made him. Meanwhile, his fingers itched to touch her. Her thighs and his were only a foot apart, and their knees kept grazing each other every time she uncrossed and crossed her legs. And it nearly did him in. Every. Single. Time. Brooke appeared oblivious to the tight quarters under the table while his heartbeat remained a tad too high.
The server brought by the first of the tapas, a hummus plate with pita bread. They each served themselves.
He broke off a piece of the pita bread and spread hummus on top. “Let’s circle back to the kissing rules.”
Brooke rolled her eyes. “We never really left the topic,” she raised an eyebrow, “but okay, go on.”
“When you want to make Justin jealous,” he ate a bite of his bread and hummus then continued once he swallowed, “is that a good time to kiss you?”
Brooke smothered her pita bread with hummus. “Yes, that’s exactly what I want you to do.” She ate a bite then wiped her face with her napkin. “The same in reverse. I’ll kiss you when we need to convince your family we’re really together.”
“Hmm.” Logan polished off the rest of his hummus bread. “We might need to practice the kissing thing a few times to make sure we get it right.”
“I think we’ll be fine.” She paused and shot him a skeptical look. “Unless you’re a terrible kisser.”
“I haven’t heard any complaints.” He smirked as he bit into his bread. Her cheeks splashed with color. “And like I mentioned before, I’m an excellent listener. If on the off chance you find my kissing repulsive, you can tell me how to fix it.”
