Page 27 of The Fake Out

Blaise scowled. “If you want to drop this…thing we have, that’s fine with me. You don’t have to go.”

I groaned. “I don’t want to go, but I also do.”

He busied himself at the stove but held up his end of the conversation. “Why?”

“Before, I wanted to be a petty asshole, but now, I want to show him I’m fine without him. That I moved on, and my life’s better off without him in it,” I tried to explain.

Except it was complete bullshit. I don’t think I ever got over the abandonment. Not when my mom did it, and not when my fiancé did it. I wished my dad was still alive so I could ask his advice. He would have known what to do. He’d have told Alex not to hire Seth, and we wouldn’t have been in this predicament. God, I missed that big teddy bear so much.

I must have zoned out because before I knew it, Blaise came over to the table with plates of awesome steak sandwiches on long hoagie rolls. The smell was amazing. “You want a beer?” he asked.

“Sure. What you got?”

He peered into the fridge. “Oh, look, 611 Ale!”

“Oh! That’s a MacGregor Brothers beer,” I said.

He grabbed us beers and popped off the tops. He handed me a bottle. “Yeah, I’m a fan. Can’t get that in Canada.”

I closed my sketchbook and put it back in my tote bag before taking a sip of my beer. “Oh, the brewery’s in my town. I go there all the time.”

“Nice. We should go sometime. I love craft beer from the source.”

I nodded, but I wanted to remind him that just because we were fake dating didn’t mean we needed to actually go out.

Instead, I bit into my cheesesteak and moaned at how this Philly boy actually knew how to make a good one. I guess you could take the boy out of the city, but you couldn’t take the Philly out of him.

“I’ll go with you,” he said after we had been eating in silence for a few minutes. “I’ll help you prove to that asshole you’re stronger and better without him.”

“Why?” I asked. “You barely know me.”

“True, but I know how you feel.”

“Are you still not over her?”

He shook his head. “Nah. I’m good. Just tired of people asking me if I’m okay. I figured if we pretend to date for a little while, then my brothers will get off my back. Let me live my life the way I want.”

“Okay, but remember, this is fake. We’re not in a relationship.”

He furrowed his brow and picked at his cheesesteak. “I know.”

“Don’t go falling in love with me, Blaise Holmstrom,” I warned.

“I won’t.”

“We can’t have sex,” I blurted out.

His eyebrows shot up in alarm. “What?”

“It’ll complicate everything. It’s not a relationship. We’re not a real thing—we’re just pretending. Okay?”

“Is that what you meant by ‘ground rules’?” he asked and did air quotes.

I nodded. “I don’t want the lines to get blurred.”

He cocked his head at me. “Doesn’t have to get blurred if we’re just having a good time.”

“Are you asking me to be your fuck buddy while we pretend to date?”