Page 30 of Fake Dating Adrian Hunter
“Where’s your brother?” I ask Phoebe.
A glimpse of panic crosses her face that I don’t know how to interpret. “Ah… He stepped out for a moment. I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”
If Adrian isn’t here, I’m not putting myself through unnecessary suffering. “You know, I think I’ll take a breather too. Get some fresh air by the ocean. I won’t be long.”
“Verena.” She grabs my arm. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Girl, chill.” I pull free and head outside.
As I search for privacy beyond the restaurant, part of me wonders if I should be honest with Adrian and tell him how I feel—that I miss him and want to rekindle a friendship. But the cautious side of my heart reminds me of the day Adrian “asked” me to the school dance then laughed at me with all of his friends. I’ve got too much to lose by sharing my feelings with Adrian. Until he lets his guard down around me—correction,ifhe ever lets his guard down around me and wants to be friends—that’s when I’ll be honest.
The evening sea breeze whips through my hair, salty and damp, as I find my own little alcove on the path overlooking the beach. Someone has placed a table and chair here from the restaurant. I’m about to take a seat and relax, but with the wind travels the sound of a heated voice, ruining all sense of peace.
“I can’t believe you, Adrian. We were together for three years and now it’s like I don’t even know who you are.”
Whoa. Okay, Phoebe’s weirdness now makes sense.
The voice belongs to Isabelle. I catch sight of her standing farther down the path with Adrian, looking like a fiery goddess as nearby torches flicker amber light over her skin and red hair.
“I had the courtesy to tell you I’d be here with Conner,” she continues. “Don’t you think I deserve the same respect? You’re dating Verena Valentine, of all people. All it takes is a simple phone call or text.Hey, Isabelle, just giving you a heads-up that I’m dating Verena Valentine. Oh, and we were childhood sweethearts and have been destined to be together all this time. The three years you and I spent together was only a filler.”
“Isabelle, it’s not like that,” he hushes, holding her shoulders. “You know it’s not. I cared about you. Istillcare about you.”
Welp, this is clearly a conversation I’m not meant to be hearing. I step back, making an escape, but stumble over the chair leg and knock the damn thing over. Both Adrian and Isabelle turn in my direction. Something vile sits in her expression when she sees me. Shock in Adrian’s.
“Sorry,” I call, smiling with an awkward wave. “I didn’t hear anything. I’m leaving.”
“No, I am.” Isabelle storms up the path, not daring to look at me as she passes.
I cringe at Adrian. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I came here for fresh air.”
Adrian steps up beside me. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve got Isabelle exactly where I want her. Did you hear that conversation? By the end of this week, she’ll be begging to have me back.”
“Ugh, men. I’ll never understand them.”
Adrian rests his forearms on the railing next to me and gazes out at the ocean. “A guy will do anything to win the girl he loves.”
I join him at the railing, my hair and dress flapping in the wind. “I never knew Adrian Hunter was such a romantic.”
“There are many things you don’t know about me.”
“Tell me something, then.”
“What do you want to know?”
“What’s this whole quiet-guy act you’ve got going on?”
He laughs. “I think you’re the first person to ever call me quiet.”
“You know what I mean. I came into this week expecting to see you leading every event, making speeches every night, having all the old ladies swoon after your charm, and banging all the young ones. Instead, I hear you turned down being the MC. You haven’t reached for the microphone once and you even slipped out of the welcome dinner last night.”
He shrugs. “I learned the hard way that being the center of attention is not a good fit for me. I get too caught up in the popularity contest and lose sight of what’s important to me.”
“Congratulations. Didn’t know you possessed the intelligence to look inward and observe your many flaws.”
“That’s rich, coming from you.”
“What are you talking about? I’m perfect,” I tease. Adrian grins and rolls his eyes. “So, tell me about Isabelle. How did you two meet?”
