Page 43 of Fake Shot

I work in construction, Colt. Can’t we just get me one of those silicone rings so if it gets caught on something, I don’t lose a finger?

Colt

There’s no way in hell I’m buying you a $20 silicone ring as your engagement ring. Do you even know me? And you don’t have to wear my ring at work. But you will wear it when we go out together.

Jules

Ooooh, just what I always wanted. A man to tell me what I will and won’t be doing.

Colt

Trust me, you’d like it a whole lot if I was bossing you around.

It had taken almost a full half hour for her to respond to that one, and I was worried that I’d stepped over the line. It’s one thing to flirt with a random woman you’re trying to sleep with, and another thing entirely to flirt with your fake fiancée after promising your best friend you wouldn’t touch her. We’re not going to be sleeping together, so why do I enjoy teasing her like this?

Jules

Trust me, I’ll be the one bossing you around.

I’d laughed out loud, jolting Drew awake in the dark plane. He looked up at me from where he was reclined, and quietly asked, “If this is all fake, why are you so goddamned happy?”

Am I happy? Is that what this feeling is? I sure as shit wasn’t happy last night waiting for her to text me back. Or during the game, when I was so distracted by the fact that she hadn’t texted me that I fucked up.

But in those moments where she did reply? Or right now, when I read through our text exchange, am I happy?

Colt

I look forward to that. A lot.

“Are you for fucking real right now?” Jules hisses in my ear as we stand in front of the glass display case at the world’s most well-known jeweler. We’d arrive at the Newbury Street store via a private car and a back entrance, right at 6 p.m. when the store closed. No one but the clerk helping us, who already signed an NDA, needs to know that Jules didn’t already have the ring.

“I’ll give you two some time to consider these options, and if you don’t like them, I’m happy to select some other choices. I’ll be over there if you need anything.” She nods her chin toward the corner of the room, far enough away that with the classical music playing quietly in the background, we can have a private conversation.

“Thank you,” I tell her. Then I snake my arm around Jules’s waist, pulling her against my hip so we’re side to side, and turn my head to ask, “Is there a problem, Tink?”

“I can’t wear one of these.” She almost sounds scared by the thought.

“Do you remember how you said that no one who knowsyou would believe we were engaged?” I ask, and she glances up at me, but doesn’t respond—it’s something that I notice she does a lot. It’s like she lets her facial expressions speak for her and saves her words for when they’re necessary. It’s exactly the opposite of her family’s refrain that she doesn’t have a filter, and it has me even more curious about what shedoesn’tsay. “Well, no one who knowsmewill believe I bought you any ring that wasn’t like one of these.”

She looks down at the selection of ostentatious rings. “Why, because you’re showy and rich?”

“No, because I like to spoil the people I care about.”

She stiffens. “Yes, but youdon’tactuallycare about me.”

Is that what she thinks? I mean, I’m not in love with her, and never will be. I promised myself long ago that I was never going down that road again. But that doesn’t mean I don’tcareabout her. I wouldn’t have gone to La Gallina last weekend, or stepped in like I did, if I didn’t care. And I sure as hell wouldn’t have kissed her to save her from having a panic attack.

“That’s not true. And me getting you a cheap-ass ring would be a sure sign that Ididn’tcare. We can’t have people speculating.”

“If your idea of a cheap-ass ring is anything smaller than four carats, you’re even more pretentious than I thought.”

I laugh at that. “Maybe I am. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m getting you one oftheserings, since you didn’t do what I asked and think about what you wanted ahead of time.”

She grinds her teeth together as she looks down at the five rings set out on velvet pedestals on top of the glass case, then lets out a frustrated sigh. “Why don’t you choose,then, since it obviously matters more to you than it does to me.”

“You’re being a brat just to prove a point, aren’t you?” Reaching over, I take her chin between my fingers as I tilt her head so she’s looking up at me. Why do I like it so much when she’s difficult?

She just raises those light eyebrows and blinks, her long dark lashes descending over those blue eyes, as she bites the corner of her lip to hold in a smile. “Go ahead, choose one.”

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