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Her response was like a dagger to the chest. Why would she say that if she had feelings for me? If she wasn’t still fully focused on our arrangement?
“Can’t a guy miss his fake girlfriend?” I said it more with hope than anything else.
“Reed…” Her gaze fell to the floor. “We agreed we wouldn’t let feelings get in the way of this.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“You’re not feeling anything for me, are you?” I really wished she didn’t sound quite so disapproving. She slowly peered up at me, her eyes wide and studying me closely as she waited for my response.
It should have been the easiest question in the world. The answer was a resounding yes, but I knew that wasn’t what she wanted to hear. The way she’d reacted to being told I missed her had made that very clear.
“No, no, of course not,” I replied.
“But you miss me?”
“Yeah, uh, no,” I stammered. “What I meant was I just wanted to see you. We’ve been having fun hanging out these last couple of weeks. It was Friday night, and I had nothing to do.”
I thought I’d made some progress with Violet tonight, but I could feel it all slipping quickly through my fingers as I rambled on. Each time I opened my mouth, I seemed to be making things worse, and I was internally screaming at myself to stop talking, rewind, and take the opportunity to tell Violet everything I wanted to. But it was too late. And I was too pathetic. Apparently, I had no problem facing off against 200-pound hockey players on the ice, but when it came to exposing my heart, I was a complete and total coward. I’d never been badly injured on the ice though, and I guessed I was still recovering from the pain I’d experienced off it.
“Oh,” she whispered. “Okay.” She looked thoughtful but then shot me a weak smile. “You’re right, it has been fun. And tonight was fun too. Thanks for inviting me.”
“You’re welcome,” I replied. “We still on for tomorrow night?” I hoped I didn’t sound too eager, but she was acting slightly cagey, and I was genuinely starting to worry she might be reconsidering our whole agreement. She was far too attached to her stupid golden rule.
“The victory party? Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
“Great.” My shoulders relaxed as relief pulsed through me. “I’ll see you then.”
The words were barely from my mouth before she’d jumped from the car. She was up the driveway and into the house before I could even consider getting out and walking with her.
“Nice going, Reed,” I grumbled to myself. Not for the first time, as soon as things started feeling even a little bit real, she literally fled the scene.
I’d tried my best not to come on too strong. I’d sent out the tiniest of feelers to try to get a sense of what was going on inside her head without revealing too much of what was going on in mine. But even that had freaked her out.
Something had inspired me to test Violet’s feelings tonight though. I hadn’t risked it all without thinking. When she’d been in my arms in the bowling alley and was gazing up at me, there was no mistaking the look in her eyes. She’d been thinking about kissing me. I knew it.
Maybe I hadn’t completely screwed this up just yet. We still had one more week as a fake couple. But if I was going to win Violet over, I needed to make her realize some rules were meant to be broken—even golden ones.
21
VIOLET
I was shocked I didn’t get fired during my shift at Hug in a Mug on Saturday. I dropped an empty coffee mug, spilled three drinks, and messed up far too many people’s coffee orders. My mind was most definitely not on work. Even Nicole had noticed something was off and asked me if I wanted to talk about it, but I’d just pretended I was tired, not spiraling after my fake bowling date with Reed.
Ever since I’d had dinner with the Darling family, I’d been doing my best to try to avoid Reed and the confusing, swirling emotions that bubbled up inside me whenever he was near. I was doing such a good job of it too, and then he had to go and ruin all my hard work. Just one fake bowling date, and the confusion was back; the line between fake and real was blurry as ever. No matter how hard I tried to hide from it or deny it, I knew I was starting to develop feelings for Reed that I wasn’t supposed to.
I was somewhat glad Mia hadn’t been scheduled to work with us because she wouldn’t have let me suffer in silence so easily. She’d been all over me on Friday night after I got back from bowling, wanting to hear every last detail about the date. It was surprising seeing as she’d been so opposed to Reed only a few days ago.
I’d somehow managed to dodge most of her questions about the date. But it didn’t stop me from obsessing over it as I drifted off to sleep last night. And the same thoughts continued to consume my mind today, distracting me as I tried and failed to serve coffee to my unlucky customers.
The only thing confusing me more than my own feelings were Reed’s. He had told me he missed me, and even though he denied it, I kept coming back to the same question: was Reed developing feelings beyond the boundaries of our fake relationship too?
The way he’d held me at the bowling alley and gazed into my eyes had felt so incredibly real. I’d gotten lost in the moment, and I hoped the way I responded to his touch and gazed back at him hadn’t made him think I was breaking the rules. I was afraid to admit that even to myself, let alone Reed.
I was almost hoping the Devils lost their game on Saturday afternoon. Then the victory party would be canceled, and I could get back to avoiding Reed and hiding from all these questions and feelings I was too scared to face. Unfortunately, Reed and his team won easily, of course, and I was still grappling with my emotions as I got ready for the party that night.
Mia wandered into my room while I was searching for something to wear. I’d been standing in front of my closet for ages, unable to make a decision. The clothing you chose sent a message, and I had no idea what I wanted to communicate to Reed that night. But Mia shouldered me out of the way when she realized I was struggling.
“You can’t make me wear that,” I said when she held up the shortest dress I owned. It was a piece my mom had designed and one I’d never worn before. It was more of a top than a dress, and it was so shimmery it reminded me of a disco ball. It definitely wasn’t my style, and the only reason it was in Minnesota was because my mom had thrown a pile of her latest pieces in my suitcase before we left. Seeing it now made me miss her. We’d had a brief chat a couple of days ago, but like always, she’d had to cut our call short.
