"You saved my ass in English, you know," I say, bringing the conversation back. "I would've failed without you."
"I'm sure you would've been fine."
"I wouldn't have. You made1984actually make sense."
She looks pleased but embarrassed. "It was just tutoring."
But it wasn't. That day changed everything for me. I walked in thinking I just needed help with an essay, and walked out unable to think about anyone else. When I discovered she wrote those stories I'd been reading, everything clicked into place. It wasn't just her looks. No, sir. Well, yes, that too, but... It was also her mind, her imagination, and her dry humor.
I wanted to ask her out after that session, but she started avoiding me. Always looking away when our eyes met in thehallway. Frowning slightly when she saw me coming. I figured she wasn't interested, so I kept my distance. I didn't want to be that guy who couldn't take a hint.
By the time prom rolled around, I had nearly worked up the courage to ask her anyway, consequences be damned. Then I overheard her telling someone she wasn't going. And Mia cornered me one day just to make the point very clear, straight to my face. That Elise'd rather stay home. But she'd be there if I were 'man' enough. So I didn't go either. Sat in my room all night, wondering what Elise was doing. Wondering if she was writing another story that would freak me out.
James never knew why I bailed on prom. Now, watching him watch us both with that smile I'm beginning to hate, I wonder if he's putting it together.
After dinner, outside the restaurant, James pulls out his phone with an exaggerated flourish.
"We need a photo. Something for the 'gram. A soft launch of your fake relationship."
Elise groans. "Is that necessary?"
"Absolutely. We need to plant the seed before the reunion. Nothing obvious. Just you two looking cozy. Trust me, Mia monitors Elias's socials."
I don't ask how he knows this, but it's probably true.
"Come on, stand over here." James directs us to a brick wall with good lighting. "Get closer."
I stand beside Elise, leaving a respectful few inches between us, and once again not knowing what to do with my hands. James just rolls his eyes. If he does that again, he'd likely see his brain.
"Closer. No, CLOSER. Jesus, it's like you've never taken a couple's pic before."
Elise chuckles nervously but shifts toward me. I slide my arm behind her, not quite touching her back but close enough that I can feel her warmth. Her shoulder presses against mine, and her hair brushes my cheek when she turns her head. We're close now. Awkward, but close.
Fucking hell.
The scent of her shampoo hits me, and my body reacts instantly. I angle my hips away, praying neither of them notices the effect she's having on me. My hand hovers at her waist, not quite making contact.
"You can touch me, you know," she says quietly, her voice just for me. "It's supposed to look convincing."
Carefully, I settle my hand on her waist. The curve fits perfectly in my palm. She's soft and warm, and it takes every ounce of restraint not to pull her closer.
James grins and gives us a thumbs-up. "Perfect! Now smile. No, not like you're in pain, Elise, or being held at gunpoint. Like you actually know each other, and maybe, you know, actually like each other. Like you're happy standing beside him ... not looking like you just swallowed a demon insect."
She laughs at that, a genuine sound that makes her body shake slightly against mine. I find myself laughing too, not at James's direction, but at the absurdity of this whole situation. Ten years of wanting her from afar, and now I'm holding her, taking fake couple photos, and she has no idea what she does to me.
"One more," James says, snapping another picture. "Okay, one more. Last one, I promise."
"You said that three photos ago," Elise complains, but she's smiling.
Finally, James seems satisfied and shows us the results. A series of photos of us laughing together, my arm around her waist, her looking up at me with a smile that seems almost ... real.
Damn.
We look good together, really good, and the thought sends a dangerous thrill through me.
"We should work on our backstory," I say as James scrolls through the photos. "You know, make sure we're convincing. I could come by tomorrow?"
"I live above the coffee shop, Jane's Brew. It's tiny."
