When the picnic winds down at last, Parker’s chatting with Lake about the Foxes’ chances this year, so I say goodbye and hug the bridesmaids. As I’m saying goodbye to the last one, the photographer sails past me again, stopping to catch my attention with a tip of his forehead. “One last shot,” he asks, waggling his camera. “Fallon said to get one more.”
She needs another one to show I’m not the patheticMOH? Fallon’s off with Caroline, reviewing something on her tablet by the hellebores, so I’m going to have to trust that she wants this even though my Spidey senses are tingling. This seems like a bit much even for the stick-up-her-ass stickler.
“Sure.”
“Lovely,” he says, then guides me to a nearby bush bursting with gold flowers. He takes a few more shots, and when he lowers the camera at last, he drops his voice too. “Listen, I’m only in town for a few days, but I’d love to give you my hotel card?—”
Out of nowhere, a possessive hand lands on my back and a man appears by my side. “She’ll be with me.”
Then, to emphasize his point, Lake gives me one more kiss.
Hand holding my face.
Lips claiming mine.
Beard leaving its mark as my fake guy scores a hat trick after all.
And I didn’t really doubt it earlier but I’m dead certain now. I want my fake boyfriend to do very real things to me. And that’s a bit of a problem.
13
MY GAME PLAN IS NO GAME PLAN
LAKE
“Are we going to talk about the elephant in the car?”
Remy’s looking at me with curious eyes as I drive through the Haight on the way to her home, the afternoon sun dipping lower in the sky.
“My hat trick back there?” I deadpan.
She laughs. “Yes, but also your sunshine personality. What bag of tricks did you pull that from?”
I scoff, like she’s being ridiculous.
“No, I’m serious. You were pure cinnamon roll.”
I play dumb. “What are you talking about?”
“You were a different person at the picnic,” she presses, and she sounds…amazed.
But I rewind all the way to her first comment.Talk about the elephant.
If Remy wants to talk, that might mean I can finagle an extension of this time together. There’s no hockey game or practice today. I don’t need to return to Big Steps for a little while longer. And I happen to know a great puzzle shop not far from here.
“You free right now?”
“Um,” she says, then holds up her hands. “Since you haven’t tied me up, I’d say yes.”
It’s a miracle I don’t crash my car from the fantastically filthy images flashing through my mind of her pinned to my bed, wrists bound, chest heaving. “I mean, do you have someplace else to go? Like another?—”
I choke on the worddateas a dark storm cloud hangs over my head. We never talked about whether this fake boyfriend arrangement meant we’d date other people. It better not.
“We have more rules to discuss,” I bite out.
“Okaaaay,” she says, thrown off but rolling with it.
I scan for a spot and find one at the end of the block. I pull over, then hop out and grab her door.
