Page 15 of Lessons in Faking
“Oh, you know, just the fact she basically cheated on him. With you.” The thought was enough for the semipermanent scowl on my face to make an appearance again, but McCarthy’s unapologetically loud laugh pulled me back to reality. “What?” I snapped.
“Oh, you know.” He mirrored my words. Somethingmust’ve still seemed incredibly funny to him. He was still laughing. “Just the fact that Paula is my friend—myneighbor—and I never touched her beyond a hug whenHenryfucked up.”
“He didn’t—” I cut myself off. I wasn’t here to defend my brother’s actions, much less understand whatever relationship he did or didn’t have. “Whatever,” I huffed instead.
McCarthy snickered. “Whatever indeed,” he said. “Which means I’m perfectly qualified to be your fake boyfriend, Pressley. Are you happy now?”
And honestly, the reality of my proposition only dawned on me then. I scrambled. “This has to be convincing, you know? It’s important that it’s convincing—”
“It will be.”
“You can pretend to be a good boyfriend?” The longer I thought about it, the more this felt like a huge mistake. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked in the first place. “Have you even been in a relationship before?”
His eyes narrowed. “Yes, I can pretend to be a good boyfriend. Thank you very much.”
The fact that he pointedly ignored the other question was answer enough.
“You can pretend that you think about me nonstop, that you’re totally and endlessly enthralled by me?”
“Yes.” At least he seemed convinced.
“You’re gonna have to besoin love with me, McCarthy. And if this doesn’t work, I swear to God—”
“Don’t worry,” he said, and a faked smile graced his lips. “I’m a great actor.”
And that was that. “A few ground rules—” I wanted to continue, but he rummaged through his bag, and for some reason, that required my full attention.Was that...?I stifled a laugh when he pulled a little notebook out. “You’re taking notes?”
“Don’t laugh,” he scolded, trying to keep his own amusement in check. “Every agreement should be put in writing. No?”
“Spoken like a true business student,” I agreed. “We’ll do date night every Friday. I’ll pick you up from practice. Make sure Henry sees.”
His protest came quickly, eyes glued to his book. “Can’t do Friday; every Thursday?”
“What if I’m busy Thursdays?”
“Are you?”
“Maybe I am.”I wasn’t.“But I’ll make it work.”
McCarthy snorted. “Thank yousomuch. I’ll be forever in your debt—” He stopped himself. “Oh, wait.” Smiled. “That’s you.” He added a wink.
“You’re hilarious,” I deadpanned. “Thursday it is.” Clearing my throat—to suppress my annoyance and to distract from the smirk on his lips—I went on. “We could soft launch on Monday.” Two days from now. “Talk after class, smile at each other. Go all in a few days later. Keep it up for a month or two? Until the new year, maybe?”
McCarthy scribbled furiously, nodding along to let me know he agreed. When his pen stilled, he looked up at me through thick lashes any girl would be envious of.
“All in.What does that entail?”
If I was being honest, I hadn’t decided yet. Up until now, I’d managed to make it seem as though I had thought about this thoroughly before bringing the idea to him. In reality, I was making everything up as I went along, not sure what would come out of my mouth when I opened it.
“Public displays of affection are a must. You know, holding hands and all that.” An amused expression on his face, he willed me to go on. “So light PDA. Nothing above that, of course. And only when Henry is around, obviously.”
“Still not quite catching on.” Casually, he twirled his pen between his fingers. Something about his eyes batting to mine, innocence in them he couldn’t have faked better, told me he wasn’t as clueless as he was pretending.
“You know.” I trailed off, brows rising.
“Let’s assume I don’t. Gotta make sure I get this as accurate as possible, right?” He pointed to the makeshift contract in his lap.
“Why don’t you just put ‘No sex’ down, then?” I shot back, already growing irritated. Maybe this really wasn’t the best idea. “Put it in capital letters too.”
