Page 8 of Kicking it with my Fake Fiancé
Jakob nodded in understanding and sipped from his glass. “Perhaps a rebound would do you good?”
I lifted an eyebrow, mostly amused at their attempts to cheer me up, but before I could firmly reject that idea, a burst of laughter caught our attention. The three of us simultaneously looked in the direction of the noise, which came from a group of women who had just stepped onto the patio.
“Let’s go, ladies,” the one in the lead said in a clear American accent.
Benjamin nodded toward the group as they disappeared into the building, smiling widely. “Speaking of rebounds…”
Jakob grinned. “Perfect timing.”
Jared’s words came back to me then.“You just gotta find an American to rope in with those Norwegian baby blues. Get yourself a marriage visa.”I shook my head. “Pass.”
“Come on, when are you going to let yourself settle down?” Jakob protested.
“Ja,” Benjamin said. “Besides, American women are hot. EspeciallythoseAmerican women.” He tilted his head in the direction of the bar.
I rolled my eyes. “You two are impossible.” As Jakob and Benjamin discussed the relative merits of American women versus Norwegian women, I fell quiet. A few minutes passed as I let their discussion wash over me, ignoring whatever they had to say, before the aforementioned American women came bursting through the door, spilling onto the patio and taking up residence directly behind us, despite the large number of empty tables around us. Barely a few moments passed before one of the women, a petite brunette, approached our table.
“Unnskyld meg,” she said slowly, stumbling over her words. “Snack-er, um, English?”
Jakob turned on his thousand-watt smile and leaned in. “It’s snakkerduengelsk.And yes, we do. Most Norwegians do, in fact.”
Her face relaxed, relieved. “Oh thank God. My friend over there—” She gestured at a wide-eyed blonde who was blushing hard. “She doesn’t speak, um, Norsk, but she thinks you’re hot. She wanted me to ask if you’re single and if you’d be interested in joining us.”
Benjamin elbowed me hard in the ribs. “She’s talking toyou,” he hissed.
“Thanks, but I… I mean, she’s lovely, truly, but I just got out of a relationship. I’m…” I didn’t know how to finish the sentence. When Jakob cleared his throat, I barreled on. “Not quite ready.” I knew the excuse was weak, but it was still true. Mostly. I didn’t want to attach myself to the first American who came along. I wanted… companionship. Caring. Similar interests and goals. I wanted someone who wantedme, not someone who was just looking for a hookup. I pushed my chair back and stood. “I should get going, anyway.”
She pressed her lips together, attempting in vain to hide her disappointment, before nodding and looking at the other guys. “How about you two? Care to join us?”
My friends glanced at one another and both nodded in a hurry. “We’d love to,” said Jakob.
I took that as my cue to leave. “Goodbye,” I said, waving as I departed. I waited until I was on the bus back to my apartment before I pulled out my cell to text Jared. I needed someone to talk to and I wanted it to be him. To my surprise, I had missed a message from him.
Jared: Are you busy?
Matty: Sorry, I was out, but I’m on the bus home now. What’s up?
Jared responded almost immediately.
Jared: I was hoping you’d hop on a call with me.
My chest fluttered in relief. I glanced at the time, did a little mental math regarding the bus schedule, and typed out a quick response.
Matty: Give me thirty minutes.
By the time I was settled at home, laptop carefully placed on the tray I used for a writing desk—for those rare times I felt like writing in bed—I’d gotten several more messages from Jared, mostly telling me to hurry up because he was too excited to function. I had no idea what his deal was, but I was happy to oblige.
When I finally dialed into the call, Jared was already on screen, grinning from ear to ear, drumming his fingers loudly on the table in front of him. The moment my camera lit up, letting me know it was broadcasting, Jared exhaled a deep sigh of relief as his shoulders relaxed.
“Finally.”
I smiled softly and shrugged. “Sorry. The bus was running a touch behind schedule.”
“Are you… are you in bed?”
I looked around. After setting up my laptop on the portable desk, I’d lain sideways, propped slightly on a pillow. “Do you mind?”
“No, I… um…” Jared’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.
