Page 23 of Finding You
I rolled my eyes at him. “So how do we do this?”
“While you are here in Havenport, we pretend to be boyfriend and girlfriend, and when you leave, we break up.”
I nodded, too confused and turned on to speak properly.
“You might have to do the heavy lifting. Everyone is going to be shocked I’m dating you,” he added.
I punched his arm. “Bullshit.”
He rubbed his arm dramatically, and I got up and started to pace. Not to brag, but negotiations were kind of my specialty. Sitting too close to him was messing with my hormones and I couldn’t think properly.
My relationship history was peppered with one disaster after another. My romantic instincts were shit. So maybe a fake relationship was what I needed. At least we could set rules and conditions and actually follow them. It was like a beautifully drafted contract—no room for error, no gray area, just clear, concise instructions about what everyone was supposed to do. I was getting giddy just thinking about it.
Suddenly, I no longer felt powerless and confused. I was in charge. This is what I did, and I was pretty damn good at it.
I caught him eyeing my legs as I paced around the tiny living room. “Eyes up here, Quinn,” I barked.
He sat up straight and looked me square in the eyes. “Yes, ma’am.”
“I will agree to be your fake girlfriend, but we need rules, guidelines, a plan.”
“Whatever you want.”
“Actually, let me get my laptop. I can draft something up.”
He grabbed my arm as I turned to head to the kitchen. “Slow down, killer. I don’t think we need to put this in writing just yet. Talk to me.”
He pulled me down to the tiny couch, and just like that I was a nervous, quivering wreck again. Such was the power of Declan Quinn.
I sat up and smoothed my sweatshirt. “Let’s just talk it through. We need to agree on a backstory, calendar the dates we’ve discussed, anticipate some of the potential pain points.”
“What?”
“We can’t just attempt a fake relationship willy-nilly. We have to pressure test it. Make sure it can hold up.”
“How do we do that?”
“Practice dates, hanging out in public, a slow rollout.”
“That works for me.”
I stood up and resumed my pacing. “A fake relationship will work for both of us. Because I am going back to Boston and back to my career in a couple of months. And this way, we have an easy way to break things off and remain friends.” It was actually genius. I could help him while I was here, and he would help me by being my date for the gala. I was a little mad I hadn’t thought of it, actually.
“Boston’s not that far away.” He looked hopeful, and his blue eyes twinkled. Was he interested? Ha! Wouldn’t that be nice. How was this guy still single? Clearly he must have some glaring flaws I haven’t noticed, which boded well for the success of our fake relationship. If he was a closet narcissist or collected creepy dolls, I wouldn’t be in danger of developing real feelings for him.
“But I will have to be totally focused. And there is no way I can do a long-distance relationship, even if that distance is an hour.” He looked a little crestfallen. But it was the truth. If my career was going to recover from this, then it would take everything I had. I would have to work twice as hard to prove myself all over again. The thought made me nauseous, but I ignored it. “So that way, we can break up amicably, say it was bad timing or something. And you can pretend to be devastated for a while to buy you some time from your mom.”
He nodded, still watching me pace in front of the fire. “So from here on out, we’re a couple?”
“Yes,” I replied, still thinking through the variables.
“So we will do couple stuff.”
I looked up and he was smoldering at me again. “Don’t do that!”
He raised his eyebrows.
“That!” I said, pointing at his face. “No smoldering at me. Save that shit for your next fake girlfriend.”
