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“I am not backing out of our agreement.” Theo says it very matter of fact. “I’m still taking you to Hawaii.”
I wince out a smile. “Guess if I throw up enough, I’ll lose those last few pesky pounds to be able to wear the red bikini.”
Theo shakes his head. “You don’t need to lose any weight.”
I guzzle more Gatorade. He is so close I can smell his cologne. He smells like cedar and freshly done laundry. I want to put my nose against his chest to take a good whiff but shake my head furiously at the thought.
Seriously, what is the matter with me?
“Actually,” I hear Theo say, his fingers twiddling together. “I was hoping you’d join me at my parents’ house for dinner in a couple of weeks. They were hoping to meet you before flying to Hawaii.”
“You sure you still want me,” I motion from my head to my toes, “to meet your parents?”
Theo smiles and slowly wipes hair clinging to my face and tucks in behind my ear. “I wouldn’t even think of introducing them to anyone else.”
We stare at one another in silence, soaking each other in. He is handsome as hell. And then I break eye contact with him to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror hanging on the wall and nearly shriek. I am a remarkable sight and not in a good way. I look like I just got home from the gym.
“I’ll let you rest.” Theo stands up and heads for my bedroom door. “If you need anything, let me know. I’ll be right outside.”
I nod and lay down. It isn’t until I’m about to drift off into sleep that I realize he’s planning to stay the night.
The next morning, I wake up, feeling and more than likely looking like death. I stretch, rip the covers off, and look around my room. I am still wearing the clothes from yesterday and I think I smell the faint odor of vomit, so I strip and put a white tank and flannel pajama pants on. I check my hair in the mirror and throw the frizzy curls into a bun on top of my head.
As I reach for my bedroom door, I hear the clanging of pots and pans in the kitchen. I swing the door open and shuffle to the main area, squinting from the curtains being pulled open this early in the morning.
Mr. Whiskers is on the countertop again and is intently watching Theo move around the small u-shaped kitchen. I stop short. He stayed the entire night. I look over at the couch and the only trace of him having slept there are his shoes and coat which I can only assume he used in lieu of a blanket.
“Good morning,” he flashes a smile at me while he finishes whipping up the most delightful smelling breakfast I have ever beheld. “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” I rasp and then clear out my throat. “Better. Thanks to you.”
“I didn’t do anything special.”
I sit on the only stool and rest my elbows on the counter. “Well, I still appreciate you helping me. You didn’t have to stay all night though. I’m sure you’re exhausted. That couch is not comfortable to sleep on. Believe me, I know.”
He shrugs. “It wasn’t that bad. I didn’t know how sick you would get and with your roommates out of town, I didn’t want you to be alone just in case you needed medical attention.”
“Wow,” I blink rapidly. “That is very thoughtful of you.” I squint and purse my lips when his eyes meet mine. “Do you do this for all your fake girlfriends?”
Theo laughs and shakes his head. “I haven’t actually had a girlfriend, fake or real, for a couple of years now.”
“Seriously? Two years?” He places a plate of eggs, toast, and bacon in front of me. He has plated food that belongs in a Michelin star restaurant on a warped plastic plate, and I stifle a laugh. “Sorry about the plates, clearly we call for delivery more often than try our hand at new recipes.”
Theo waves his hand in the air, shooing my apologies away. “It’s about the food. Not the plates.” He takes a bite of eggs and after he swallows, he says, “And to answer your question. I haven’t dated in a while for a couple of reasons. One, I’ve been busy with my career. And two, I just haven’t found anyone of interest.”
“I see.” I keep my eyes on my plate.
“Of course, that’s changed.”
My head whips up.
“Since we’re… you know?” There’s that wicked smile.
“Yeah, I guess fake dating definitely takes a toll on your free time.” I force a smile.
In the corner of my eye, I notice Mr. Whiskers is still sitting on the counter while we eat. I frown. “You shouldn’t be up here. You know better, Mr. Whiskers.”
Theo reaches out a hand, and rubs, is the best way to describe his attempt at petting a hairless cat.
