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“I shouldn’t have stayed out so late last night,” I tell Shiloh as I stifle another yawn. I laugh at myself. Midnight is hardly late. Half the people at the club were just starting their nights when I was ready to leave.
Did Spencer go back out without me after dropping me off? It wouldn’t surprise me if he did. My heart sinks. If he did, did he meet another girl? Take her home instead of me?
I shake away the thought. Spencer is pretending to date me to save his reputation. He wouldn’t cheat on me in our fake relationship. That would lead to more negative press, which is what he’s trying to avoid. Plus, I doubt his agent would believe in our relationship if he started taking home random girls.
I shouldn’t care about Spencer’s dating habits. We’re not actually together. He can be with whomever he wants.
The problem is a weird part of me wants him to be with just me.
I blame the sex dream I had. Dreams always make it harder to face reality.
I finish my breakfast, trying to ignore my wandering thoughts, and shut the laptop. I’m too tired to do any good work, and Shiloh keeps tugging on my pant leg, ready to go for his morning walk.
“Okay, fine, let’s go,” I say, tossing my plate in the sink.
I grab Shiloh’s leash and tell him to sit. I clasp it onto his collar, and we head out the door, taking a two-mile round trip walk through our neighborhood. I’ll never get used to the palm trees lining the street. It’s crazy how I’m just on the other side of the country, but the foliage here is vastly different than it was back home.
As I’m hanging Shiloh’s leash back up, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I find Abby’s name filling up the screen.
“Hey!” I answer.
“When were you going to tell me you’re a liar?”
I furrow my brow. “What are you talking about?”
“You said nothing was going on with Spencer James and that you just randomly met him in the park that day. I believed you, but you’re a liar! I saw those pictures of you two getting cozy at some club last night. Since when do you go clubbing?”
“Can you send me the pictures?”
Abby fiddles with her phone, and a few seconds later, I have pictures of myself and Spencer looking at each other like we’re long-lost lovers.
“Wow. Those camera people sure know how to get a good angle. This isn’t what it looks like, Abby.”
“It looks like you’re dating your childhood celebrity crush!”
I laugh. “And that’s not what’s happening. Not really.”
“What do you mean? You’re with him. I see the pictures! Photos don’t lie, Leila. Only you.”
“You’re being dramatic. Maybe you should be in Hollywood. You’d get along with Spencer.”
“Ha! I knew you two were seeing each other!”
“I’m going to tell you something, but you have to promise never to tell anyone. It’s extremely important that you keep this a secret.”
“Fine, what’s going on?”
I lay out the entire truth, from running into Spencer, which she already knew, to him finding where I live and asking me to pretend to date him.
“So you’re telling me that you’re living out a romantic comedy plot by pretending to date a guy to help save his reputation?”
“And to help save my business, yeah.”
“I don’t believe you for one second. Like I said before, photos don’t lie, and you’re clearly holding each other in a romantic embrace. Spencer may be an actor, but you’re not.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s just a single photo taken out of context. Some random guy was bothering me at that club, and Spencer came to my rescue. That’s why I’m looking at him like that. He saved me from an annoyance.”
“Yeah, right. You can handle yourself.”
“I’d had a few drinks.”
“Wow. It’s like you’re a whole different person!”
“We drank together all the time.”
“I don’t think once a month is all the time.”
“Well, once a month is all I’m doing here, too. If that. This was the first time I drank in California, actually.”
“Do you think you’ll do it more now you’re dating Spencer James?”
“Fake dating,” I point out.
“Remains to be seen.”
I roll my eyes. “I swear to you, Abby. It’s all a big ruse. I need you to be there for me on this so I can complain to you when it comes to an end.”
She laughs. “I don’t know; I’m a picture believer, you know that.”
“Then look at the other pictures. I just looked myself up, and you can see me standing alone, too.”
“I choose not to believe those photos.”
“Now you’re just being a brat!”
“Fine, fine, it’s all fake, whatever. I’ll choose to believe you this time. But I need to ask you: are you sure there’s nothing on your end I should be worried about?”
I blow out a breath and remember that sex dream and how badly I wanted to kiss Spencer yesterday.
