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With an onion ring perched between her lips, she tries to hop up but fails on account of her small size and awkward heels. Grinning to myself, I place my hands under her arms and hoist her up until she’s sitting on the back with her legs dangling over.
“Thanks,” she mumbles with a smirk.
I reply with a silent nod. Then we dig into our late-night, greasy meal together. The sounds she makes as she devours her cheeseburger have my dick twitching, so I turn my body away from hers, afraid of a repeat of what happened tonight on the dance floor.
“Oh! Look!” she shrieks, staring down at her phone with wide eyes.
Moving to stand next to her, I glance at the screen and notice it’s her and me standing together near the bar. She’s tucked perfectly under my arm as we talk to my brother and his wife.
“Golden boy, Adam Goode, seems to have found himself an interesting girlfriend for once!”
“It says that?” I ask, leaning closer, and sure enough, it’s an Instagram post from someone who looks like they screenshot the photo from another source. “What do the comments say?”
Sage drops her phone in her lap and glares at me. “Adam, we never read the comments.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s where the trolls are,” she replies.
“There’re already twenty comments. I want to see what they say.”
“Have at it,” she says, tossing me her phone.
I don’t know what I’m even looking for as I hit the button that reveals everyone’s comments. I think I want proof that this fake dating scheme is as controversial as we want it to be. It’s the uproar and shock that I need to see.
What I get in the comments chills my blood instead.
He could do better.
How much did he rent her for?
What on earth is he doing??
Why, Adam. Whyyyyyyyy?
My face falls and I fight the urge to respond to each one of these assholes. What on earth would I even fucking say?
I harden my features and close out the app, handing the phone back to Sage. She’s holding her burger in one hand, a dot of ketchup on the side of her cheek. With a flex of my hand, I shove it in my pocket to keep from wiping the ketchup away.
She continues scrolling as she eats. When I notice the way her shoulders tense and goose bumps cover her arms, I shrug out of my jacket and wrap it around her small frame.
“Thanks,” she mumbles, glancing up at me with uncertainty in her tone.
“So, are there any more posts about us?” I ask casually as I fish my burger out of the bag. She reads a bit as she scrolls. It seems there are a lot of posts about us together, making some pretty generous waves in the Goode church and Austin community. It’s the validation I think I needed.
But am I ready to take it to the next step? Because being seen together and being seenfucking on cameraare two very different things.
There’s a buzzing vibration in my pocket, so I shift my burger to the opposite hand and pull out my phone. It’s a text from Caleb, and the message makes my stomach drop to my fucking balls.
I like your girlfriend.
With a twinge of guilt, I struggle with how to respond. What would I say if she was my real girlfriend? Thank you? Plus, with Caleb, I can’t exactly tell if he’s being serious or not. So I don’t say anything at all, and a moment later, he texts again.
Dad seems pissed.
And there it is. That’s why Caleb likes my new girlfriend, because she ruffles Dad’s feathers, and while Caleb has never had the balls to do it himself, he loves anything that pisses our father off. If only he knew that was my plan all along. If only I could tell him that Dad is pissed because my new date is a threat to his name and reputation. But I can’t. I promised to follow the rules, which means everyone has to believe it’s true.
Good.I respond without explanation.
