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I liked Yara Kingsley, and there she was, calling me her friend.
Stab me through the heart, why don’t you?
She might as well have called me her sworn enemy the way that made me feel. I’d been friend-zoned when I only wanted to take her into my apartment, wrap her up in my sheets, and stay there until morning.
Later that night, we pulled out the pumpkin's guts and slammed it onto the newspaper covering Yara’s coffee table. The oven was already cooking the apple crisp I’d made for us as we began our carving adventures. My pumpkin was supposed to be a golden retriever, and hers was a black cat.
Clearly, she got the easier tracing cutout. My dog would end up looking ridiculous.
“So Noah’s wedding is this coming weekend,” Yara mentioned as she carved the pumpkin.
“Yup.”
“I’m nervous,” she confessed.
“Nervous?
“Yes. The more you tell me about it, the fancier it feels.”
“I won’t lie. Mandy and Noah are really fancy people. There’re going be about four hundred people, too, which is wild to me. My wedding would have like…two people. But that’s my social butterfly best friend for you. He’s my friend golden retriever.”
She smiled. “You black cats are always secretly searching for us.”
“No. You just run wildly with your tongues out and crash into us.”
“That’s… Accurate.”
“You shouldn’t be nervous, though. It’s going to be an epic party.”
“I have no doubt about that. A fancy wedding in a fancy Chicago mansion for a fancy chef? I’m pretty sure I dream of experiences like this. I can already imagine how remarkable the food will be.”
I snickered. “It’s going to be a foodie’s heaven, that’s for sure. Friday night is the rehearsal dinner, and Saturday is the wedding. Since I have to be there the day before, I will set up a car to come pick you up.”
“Oh no, it’s fine. I’ll drive myself. I can get there early, too, then do any extra tasks if you guys need help.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course. There’s always some last-minute thing needed. It’s nice to have a runner. A weekend of extravagance.” She swooned. “I just hope I look worthy enough in my dress to be on your arm. I’ve been worried about what to wear and how to behave around such people.”
“Be exactly who you are. There’s no way people wouldn’t like you. And anything you wear will be perfect,” I informed her. “I’m lucky to have you on my arm.”
A nervous titter escaped her lips as her stare fell to the carpet. “Is that fake boyfriend Alex or real friend Alex speaking to me?”
I smiled. “Both.”
Her gaze settled on me with newfound solemnity. “It’s kind of sad, isn’t it?” she asked, picking pumpkin guts out from beneath her nails.
“What’s that?”
“I told you that we’d fake date for two months, and October is almost over. The wedding is the last event we have together, and that’s around the corner. Therefore, our fake dating is coming to an end. The wedding is like our last hurrah of this ridiculous situation.” She tried to laugh it off, but the sound was coated with a tinge of sadness.
Was she sad that the fake relationship was coming to an end?
Because I was.
I was dreading the day I could no longer call her mine—even if it was fake. Even if she was never really mine to begin with. The idea of not being able to hold her whenever I wanted to and kiss her when others were looking was starting to get to me. I needed just a little bit more.
More moments with her. More moments with us. More of Yara Kingsley.
I didn’t only want her when we were in the public eye, either. No. I wanted to kiss her in the dark when no one else was around. I wanted to whisper against her ear when others weren’t looking. I wanted to go to her on my bad days because she always made them good. I wanted to have her not only in the public, but I craved her in my private life, too.
Yet if we changed things, if we shifted from something fake to something real, there was a whole new realm we’d have to figure out.
If we were real, then hearts could break someday.
If we were real, then she could leave. I was so damn tired of people leaving.
That fear alone was enough to leave me stagnant.
CHAPTER 32
Yara
Even if I wanted to, I wasn’t certain I had the strength to stop myself from falling more and more for Alex based on how many feelings he’d built within me.
So many feelings.
Feelings and Alejandro Ramírez.
“I’m just saying, Hamburger Helper isn’t exactly cooking, Yara,” Alex explained as we took on our Sunday farmers' market trip. He held Feliz’s leash as I held Cocoa’s. I told Cole we were taking a break from exchanging Cocoa for a while. I didn’t like the idea of sending her off to him—well, more so his mother—especially after what he’d done. He didn’t put up much of a fight about it. It was clear he only took Cocoa to get under my skin, not because he cared about her.
