Page 51 of The Fantasy League
Aera:You’re going to have to tell her about us sooner or later.
Abel:Not right now. Let me do this on my own terms, Aer.
Aera:Tick Tock.
Abel:Don’t even think about fucking this up for me.
Aera:Sounds like you’re already on the path to doing that yourself.
Couldn’t blame her for taking a jab at me. She was tired of hiding, and fuck, so was I, but it just wasn’t the right time to tell the world about our relationship. There were other things, otherpeople,to think about which made things more complicated than Aera let on.
“You want me to make us something for dinner?” Scarlett called back to me as she walked up the porch steps.
“Nah. Let’s get takeout.”
It was moments like this—coming home together and talking about dinner plans—that made it feel like we were a real fucking couple.
Sometimes our fake relationship felt so much like a real one that it was hard to decipher where the deception started and ended. Not to mention our “friendship” being thrown in complicated my thoughts even more.
Friends.
I still fucking hated that word.
FOURTEEN
SCARLETT
When Abel toldme he was going to get a driver to take him to the airport so he didn’t have to leave his car in extended parking for nearly a month, I didn’t hesitate before offering to drive his car back instead.
And there were few things I hated more in life than driving, so that was saying a lot. But I was willing to curb my fear if it meant soaking up a few extra minutes with him before he left.
I was convinced that God was playing a sick joke on me by giving Abel and me six weeks together to fall into a healthy rhythm of friendship after so much animosity, only for him to be ripped away for half that amount of time just as I was beginning to sort out my feelings for him.
Yes, I would admit it—well, to anyone but him—but I had feelings for him. Lots and lots of feelings, to be exact.
Maybe him leaving was for the best though? People have always said that “absence makes the heart grow fonder,” and this time apart would test whether or not that rang true.
Abel tapped his fingers against the steering wheel along with the music. I, on the other hand, was doing my best to ignore the mocking voice inside my head that barely allowed a question or “what if” to cross my mind before another took over.
When we were a few miles from the airport, he slipped his hand into mine, which eased the wave of apprehension that coursed through me.
I silently hoped that he would call me while he was gone, but I knew it was wishful thinking. He would be busy working on his commercial and doing photo shoots and I would be the last thing on his mind.
Plus, we were just “friends” who had an agreement together. He didn’t owe me anything outside of that, so I needed to lower my expectations before I hurt my own feelings from overthinking.
“You ready?” I shifted my gaze toward Abel as he turned into a spot in the short-term parking lot.
“You going to miss me, Red?” He turned his giant shoulders to face me, but instead of leaning back against the door like I expected, he inched closer to my side. I nodded my head up and down, not shying away from his touch despite the fluttery feeling that tore through my insides.
I took in the somber look that covered his face and tears instantly began to prick the back of my throat.
Why was I getting so emotional?
We werejustfriends and he was only leaving forthreeweeks.
It wasn’t like I was never going to see him again. Well, unless his plane crashed. Or he drowned in the ocean. Or the boom mic came down and beheaded him while he was on set for his commercial.
Nope. Nope. Nope.
