Page 50 of A Perfect Fit

His expression softens. “I could never be mad at you, Bella.”

Bella. My insides go all funny again.

“If you still need a date for that event you mentioned last time, I’ll come with you,” I say. It’s the least I can do for him after hurling him into my last-minute fake dating scheme.

Jackson’s brows shoot up, like he wasn’t expecting me to offer. “It’s in Chicago next week.”

“So, I’ll travel to Chicago with you,” I say. “I mean, we’ve already survived a whole eight-hour flight together. A short domestic flight is nothing compared to that.”

“Since the awards night will run into the evening, we have the option of staying overnight,” he says. “My company’s been nominated as an award finalist, so the travel and accommodation will be covered.”

“Sounds exciting.”

I love any opportunity to dress up, and it’ll be fun to travel again.

“Great.” A tiny smile touches his lips. “I’ll text you the details.”

We start walking back to the gymnasium, but something else is still lingering heavily on my mind. If I don’t clear the air about this, I won’t be able to sleep tonight.

“About that kiss …” I begin, not knowing how to phrase my question.

Jackson runs a hand through his hair again, lines of tension bracketing his face. “Don’t think too much about it.”

“Okay.” I swallow down the disappointment that clogs my throat. Fair enough. What did I expect him to say anyway? Of course, he only kissed me so that people could stop pestering us with questions. And it worked.

Maybe the flash of desire I felt when he kissed me was only because I hadn’t kissed anyone in so long. Maybe it was just my body reminding me I still had hormones and they needed attention.

Jackson will play my fake boyfriend tonight, and I’ll be his date for his event next week. This will simply be a you scratch my back, and I’ll scratch yours deal—metaphorically, of course. Nothing more, nothing less.

As we step inside the gymnasium, several people turn to watch us.

Activating my best fake-girlfriend mode, I link my arm in Jackson’s and say to him, “You know, I’m so happy you’re here with me, babe.”

Jackson stops in his tracks with a frown. He places a hand on my forehead. “Are you okay? Do you have a fever?”

I scoff, ignoring the comfort of his touch. “I’m just trying to compliment you, like a girlfriend would, okay?”

He clears his throat, a flushed expression taking over his face. “Right. Yes.”

“Hey, Isabelle!” It’s Samantha, a girl who used to be on our speech and debate team. She walks up to Jackson and me with a smile. “You got lucky with Jackson. He’s a good egg.”

Jackson loops a hand around my waist. “Actually, I’m the lucky one.”

“He’s not wrong,” I joke.

Samantha laughs. “You two are cute. How’ve you both been?”

After some more chatting with Samantha and others, Jackson and I step away to a quieter area. I glance at the food and drinks table. Oliver’s standing there, helping himself to a beer. Veronica’s saying something to him, but he appears distracted and somewhat agitated.

To be honest, I think I need another drink, too. Or maybe some dessert.

“Are you hungry?” Jackson asks, noticing me eyeing the food table. “Do you want anything?”

Okay, this is good. Boyfriends who are caring ask their girlfriends whether they’re hungry.

“I had a few of the sandwiches earlier tonight, but I’m craving dessert,” I say.

“Wait here,” he says, a gleam in his eyes. “I’ll be back in two minutes.” He walks to the food table, returning shortly with a plate of desserts.