Page 70 of Second Chance with the Single Dad Goalie
“Anyhow,” I continue. “Now, he’s throwing this ridiculously extravagant engagement party and purposefully invited me. Iknowhe wants to gloat. He wants me there so he can rub it in my face.”
“I can’t just not go because we have mutual friends, business connections, and work relationships that overlap. If I don’t show up, it’ll look like I’m jealous. Bitter. Angry." I glance at him. "Which, for the record, I am none of those three."
His lips twitch like he doesn’t quite believe me, but he wisely stays quiet.
“So, I…,” I pause, then grin. "I figured showing up with someone more handsome and impressive than him would be the best kind of slap in the face."
We just…, look at each other.
The fire crackles, filling the space between us.
I clear my throat and look away first. “Well, um…, I know this is cliché, but would you help me?”
Blake leans back, a slow smirk creeping onto his face. “Oh, I’ll help.”
I narrow my eyes. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re enjoying this? Or planning to?”
He shrugs. “Of course. After all, I get to be your boyfriend again, even if it’s just for show.”
My stomach flips, but I quickly shove the feeling aside.
“But then, let’s clarify something,” his brow lifts, with amusement. “You find me handsome and impressive?”
I freeze.
Oh. Oh no.
Panic flares in my chest, and I scramble for a way to cover up what I just said. “I, I mean, objectively speaking, you’re - not bad looking, and you’re…, you know… tall. And, um, you work out, so, I mean,obviously, I had to make sure my date wasn’t a downgrade…”
"So, I’m anupgrade?"
Blake watches me with pure amusement, one brow raised like he’s thoroughly enjoying this mess I’m making.
“Forget I said anything.” I scowl, crossing my arms.
“Oh, no.” He grins. “I think I’d like to hear more about how you find me handsome and impressive.”
I groan, grabbing a pillow and chucking it at him. He catches it effortlessly, still smirking. "You are insufferable."
"And handsome. And impressive. Your words, not mine. Don’t worry, I’ll be the best fake boyfriend ever."
I don’t know why, but the way he says it makes my heart skip.
I tell myself it’s just nerves.
Chapter fourteen
Blake
Whitney has been messing with her dress in front of the mirror for the past ten minutes.
First, smoothing out invisible wrinkles. Then, adjust the straps. Now, she’s fixing her hair for the third time.
“Whitney,” I say, leaning against the doorway. “The dress isn’t going to change, no matter how many times you fix it.”
She freezes, her hands hovering near her waist, then slowly drops them. “I know.”
“Then stop fidgeting.”
