Fake Fiancé for Christmas

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Fake Fiancé for Christmas Page 5

by Emily Bow


  Corner table. He was easy to spot given his height, and nice posture. He was probably the only person in there leaning back in his chair, and not slumped forward over his phone sucking down the free Wi-Fi. He wore a university baseball cap, and had his face tilted toward the window.

  Breathing in the arabica mixed with seasonal spices—ginger, peppermint, nutmeg—I ordered the hot chocolate with cinnamon and then walked over. “Hey.”

  Chance had his phone hand resting on the cover of a paperback fantasy novel, but he wasn’t reading. He raised and lowered his glinting green eyes, checking me out, stood, and pulled out my chair. “Hey.”

  I froze there for a second. Had a guy ever done that? I didn’t think so, but I really liked the polite gesture. Too much. I sat down, settling my backpack at my feet and balancing my winter weather gear on top of it.

  Chance was a big, athletic guy, and he made the small table and chairs seem petite. He took a measured sip from his green and red coffee cup and simply watched me.

  Which of the fancy drinks had my fake boyfriend ordered? “What are you having? Peppermint latte? Pumpkin spice espresso? Candy cane cappuccino?”

  “Coffee.” He tapped his fingers against the baseball magazine that was sitting under his novel.

  I tilted my head toward his reading material. “Did you play ball?”

  “Freshman year.”

  I took a slow sip of my hot chocolate. I felt like I was pulling unwilling answers from a guy under a heat lamp while spymasters watched us behind mirrored glass. Was he regretting our romantic pact already? Or was he private to the point of being secretive? Or was he simply not used to opening up? Weird. On that porch swing, I’d had the comfortable feeling like I knew him. Now I was getting a reluctant guy vibe. “Seems like answers your girlfriend would know.”

  He blinked and jerked at the word girlfriend. He made quote marks with his hands. “Haven’t had a girlfriend since high school.”

  The barista was steaming the foam for a latte behind me, and that sound was how I was feeling. I was the milk, and his attitude was causing me to froth and boil. He didn’t know my schedule, but if he did, he’d know that my next class was on the other side of campus. I’d have to hustle to get there early like I liked to do, and he was wasting my time. I grabbed my coat. “And you don’t have a girlfriend now.”

  Chance blinked his Christmas green eyes when it became clear to him I was heading out. “Wait.”

  I shook my head and walked to the door before I got my coat buttoned. “I have a class.”

  Chance followed me into the cold, pulling on his own jacket. He lowered his voice. “I just got through talking to my mom. She was on me about who I was bringing to the wedding. My brothers are giving me crap about letting Tyler take this leap, like I’m his keeper. I didn’t mean to take my frustrations out on you. I know you’re here to help.”

  I strode toward the sidewalk. “I’m not unwilling to help.”

  Chance paced me. “Such enthusiasm.”

  “Well, as usual, what sounded good at the bar the night before never sounds quite so sane the next day.”

  Chance laughed. He held up his cup. “I take my coffee black. I played ball through freshman year when I blew out my shoulder.” He rubbed the top of his left shoulder as if remembering and feeling the pain. “I wasn’t as good as my brother Easton, but I had a shot.”

  “Sorry about that.” I made a moue of sympathy and raised my cup. “Hot chocolate. No whipped cream. Cinnamon sprinkled on top. Joints undamaged. What’s your major?”

  “Man, we are starting with the basics.” He finished off his coffee and tossed the cup in the bin. He dug his hands into his jacket pockets. “Business with a bent toward accounting. I like the control.”

  The control? As in tie me up? Heat flushed my face. Not my brand of kink. If a guy pulled out the straps, I pulled out my keys.

  “Where’d you go?”

  In bed. With you. Naughty thoughts heated my cheeks and my chest. “Err, by control you mean…”

  “I want to know what’s in my family’s portfolio. I want to track expenditures and know what’s working and when we need to pivot, not just trust some advisor to tell us where to stick our money.” He touched my cheek with a brief, light but electric touch. “Are you blushing?”

  “I may have thought you meant a different kind of control.” My voice pitched high and I swiped my hand through the air. “And I’m not down with that. But I guess…fake relationship…so whatever kink you’re into doesn’t matter.” I grimaced. “Unless there’s a group of kinkers who are going to call me when we end things, thinking I’m down with their goings on.”

  “No.” Chance laughed, stopped, and turned me to him under an evergreen poplar tree. A touch of pink rode high on his own cheekbones. He took both my arms. “I play fair in bed. I like an equal give and take.” His voice deepened.

  Holy Christmas treat. Heat rushed through me. I bit my lip. “Good to know.” I shook my head. “Class. I have to go to class.”

  Chance took my backpack. “Let me carry this.”

  I wasn’t going to refuse.

  “What building are we headed to?”

  “Central Lab. I’m a senior. Pre-med, like I said at the bar, but I don’t know what specialty I’ll go into. Gene therapies are fairly hot, but it’s all crazy interesting.”

  “Nice.”

  We reached my building and he helped me get my backpack back on.

  I lingered. “Chance?”

  “Yes?”

  “Why did you choose me?”

  Chapter 10.

  Chance stood with me just outside my building and stared at me thoughtfully. “I liked it when you called my family less than ideal.”

  I made a face. How had I expected him to answer? That I was pretty, clever, and made his heart thump? “I’d hoped you’d forget about that. I mostly said those things to make my friend Bitsie feel better about something else.”

  “No worries. People act like because you have money, life’s problems don’t touch you. I’m not complaining, I’m not. I’m damned grateful. I’m just saying.” He touched his shoulder. “No amount of money could return my pitching arm. My Gran still got sick. My brothers still make questionable choices. Madison goes on and on about us, like we’re her dream come true and how lucky she is, what a perfect fit she is. And I’m not sure I can stand her. I mean, obviously I can, for my brother, but…maybe I’m missing something?” He paused. “Tell me she’s amazing.”

  “Madison’s president of our chapter.”

  “Yeah. You’ve said that before.” Chance pressed his thumb and index finger between his eyes and released them. “Nathan asked one of the other girls about her and got the same answer.”

  “I’ve spent three and a half years in the same house with Madison. I don’t think she’s perfect.” That was as much as I could say about her and still maintain any sense of sisterhood loyalty.

  “Care to elaborate?”

  I shook my head. “She’s my sorority sister. We don’t talk behind each other’s backs. Just because she’s not my cup of tea, doesn’t mean she’s not Tyler’s.” For all I knew they had a happily open, creepy relationship and both met up with her bartender ex on a regular basis.

  “Why me?” Chance turned my question back on me. “Why are you willing to help out a stranger?”

  Because I get warm hold me closer vibes from him. Because I could help him and have a social life without the demands of a real relationship challenging me for more than I could give. I decided to play off my reasons. “Look at you, Chance Kentwell.” I shook my head as if he were hopeless. “Pure pity. Obviously.”

  Chance laughed, and his shoulders eased.

  I leaned my head back, letting the sound rush over me. I wanted to make him laugh more. Dangerous feeling. No. Normal. He was becoming my friend, that was all. I met his lively green gaze. Powerful stuff, his green gaze. I toyed with the button on
my coat.

  I was teasing him, but there was an element of truth there. The convention center had been his night. His donation. His celebration. He was the star of the evening. And his parents had decided to go on stage and talk about his brother. Their decision had been thoughtless at best.

  Chance took my hand. An intimate gesture, but he simply squeezed my fingers.

  My fingers wanted to linger, to lace in with his stronger, warmer ones without my gloves on. I pulled free. “Class.”

  “Just give me one thing. Why isn’t Madison your cup of tea?”

  She’s a cheat. She’s a bitch. She’s the darkest spot in a happy pink house. I adjusted my shoulder straps, pulling my backpack higher, and looked at the wooden double doors leading into my building. “That’s not fair. I can’t…” I hesitated, wanting to say more. The sorority rule about not dissing each other was one of my favorite rules. I didn’t want to break it. “Enough girls troll on each other without our neighbor down the hall doing the same to us.” But Tyler was about to make a lifetime mistake. Unless he liked them witchy. Again, I didn’t know him except as Madison’s date and through Bitsie’s rhapsodizing. “I think you should make your own judgment.” I nodded. That answer sat well with me. “You should get to know her before the wedding. Take your time and make your own call.”

  I climbed the first step to go in.

  Chance hooked his finger in my coat’s belt, delaying me. “You need to meet me so we can learn more about each other. We just talked fifteen minutes about my brother, and I don’t even know if you have siblings? Doesn’t make me much of a boyfriend.”

  I held up three fingers. “Three sisters. One older, married, settled. Two younger. My mom’s a total matchmaker. Which is lucky for you. Because my history gave me the utmost sympathy for your dilemma.”

  “She wants you married?”

  “Right. You’d think she’d be all glowy and proud over the fact that I’m pre-med. Nope, she’s all about me snagging a man.” I winked at him. “You’ve made my holidays much easier. She’ll narrow her focus to my younger sisters and torture them with her best friends’ sons, leaving me out of it. I’m golden while we’re together. How are we going to break up? With a big bang? Or with quiet regret?”

  Chance hadn’t taken his finger from my coat, but I didn’t feel trapped, just wanted. “We’ll figure it out.”

  “Yeah. At least it won’t hurt.”

  “Breakups are never great. I’m more serial dater. I figure when it’s my time and I’m ready, I’ll go there, and I’ll be all in. That’s years away.”

  I pulled free, finished my last sip of hot chocolate, and tossed the container in the nearest trashcan. Two girls in my class headed up the steps. I was always the first one in, until today. “I better go.”

  Chance nodded. “I have class in an hour. International Digital Marketing. My parents wanted me to be pre-law. And were really pissed over my choice.” He looked around. “The pissy part. That’s off the record.”

  “Any pissy thing we say stays between us.” I made the between us gesture. “You don’t have to worry that I’m blogging online about dating you. I’m not that girl.”

  Chance took my hand and squeezed my fingers in an appreciative gesture, and then he held them. “Good. You’ve got that from me too. The only thing the press and public will hear about you from me are compliments.”

  Press? The tabloids did periodically delve into his family. I never wanted to be featured or be even a footnote in any of their stories. I winced. “I hadn’t thought about the professional media. You could trash my reputation on a worldwide scale.”

  He laughed and swung our clasped hands. “My family is low-key famous. In certain circles.”

  Certain circles. Only people in certain circles talked about the circles they were in. Breathe. I’d to simply balance on the edge of his life, extend a helping hand as needed, and then jump back out unnoticed. I checked the time on my phone. “Later.”

  Chance leaned forward as if to kiss me.

  I breathed in the yummy masculine scent of his cologne and eyed his perfectly carved lips. And I knew in that moment that the touch of his lips, the taste of him, could undo me. “I don’t want to get confused.” I jerked back. “We’re not real.”

  He looked at our hands extended between us. “Is this okay?”

  I nodded. Setting physical boundaries in this situation was weird but mandatory. Normally, physical intimacy progressed naturally following growing emotions. This was something different, and I had to remember that. We were putting on a show, not deepening our spark of attraction. “Our next event is the winter formal. Wear a tuxedo. You can get the details from Tyler, or I can text them to you.”

  Chance nodded. “I need to get in Tyler’s head. See what he is thinking. A wedding this soon. Does he not want to go to Europe alone that badly?”

  “No comment.”

  “I think you can give me your full opinion on getting married at twenty-one without breaking your social contract with your house.”

  “Depends on the couple. Find your soulmate, and why wait?”

  “You think there’s such a thing?”

  “I hope so.” I looked toward the building. “I really need to go in. I’ve got a three-hour lab.”

  A group of four students went around me on the steps. “Holly, coming?” Daniel, the tall lanky guy on the end, said.

  “In a second.”

  I turned back to Chance and winked. I lowered my voice so none of them could overhear me. “I’ve got to say goodbye to my fake boyfriend first.”

  Chance frowned. “We’re real for now.”

  “You’ve got a loose grasp of what’s real.” I looked at Chance’s frowning green eyes and arched my eyebrows. He was sending me mixed messages, cold at the coffee shop and now warm after a brief walk.

  Chance eased his expression. “For December it’s real. Like a snow globe. We’ll shake it up in January.” Chance watched my classmates enter the building. “You should kiss me goodbye though.”

  “Yeah? Here on the steps of my chem lab?” I shook my head. “Kisses are real. They’re intimate. You’ll have to find a more romantic spot if you want a December kiss. Until then, I’ll just say, see ya.” I turned and jogged up the steps. When I got to the top, I looked back down.

  Chance stood watching me with a bemused expression. I got the impression I surprised him. Which was probably a good thing given his looks and his money. I’d guess few girls turned him down very often.

  He’d have to work for a kiss from me. Not that I needed to intrigue Chance. He was simply a new friend, and I was helping him out.

  ***

  Three hours later, I was packed back up and headed out of the lab.

  My classmate Daniel paced me discussing our work. “Really? You got cross section?”

  I was positive. I’d nailed that part. “Yep.”

  Daniel thumped his palm to his forehead, making me laugh.

  “Holly.” The voice came from down the hall. A tall fair-haired guy leaned out of one of the labs. I recognized him as Logan Kentwell. He looked back in, and then leaned back out. “Holly.” He waved for me to join him.

  Chapter 11.

  I waved goodbye to my classmate and turned around, jogging over. “Hey. What’s up?”

  Logan Kentwell was tall, handsome, with piercingly intelligent blue eyes. “I’m Logan. Logan Kentwell. You’re dating my brother.”

  Oh. Sort of.

  “Hi.”

  He looked back inside and jetted over to his station. He poured blue liquid into a round test tube. The liquid turned clear, and he shook the compound, raising the oxygen in the mixture.

  “What are you doing?”

  “You wouldn’t understand.”

  Whoa. Not the first time a guy has looked at me across a test tube and said something similar. “Because I’m blonde?” I asked in a hard voice. “Or because I’m a girl?”


  Logan jerked his head up and frowned. “I’m blond. No, because I don’t understand what I’m working on. I’m…” He flexed his fingers and got a distant look in his sharp eyes. “There’s something there on the edge.” He scratched his head. “The answer is just there. I don’t have it yet, but I will.”

  Ah, mad scientist. Got it.

  Logan lined up a series of bottles and tilted the smallest one to and fro. There was nothing in the container, he was simply thinking.

  “Logan,” I said gently. “You wanted to talk to me?”

  Logan released the bottle. “Oh. Yes. You’re dating Chance. He’s helping me with a patent.”

  “Good. He’s helping me with date night.”

  Logan tapped his fingertips against a vial and laughed. “Date night.” He turned his gaze away, and said, “Alkaline.” He hurried over to a shelf to grab another compound.

  “Did you want something from me?”

  “Chance is a good guy.” Logan flushed. “I just wanted to meet you.”

  “Nice to meet you, Logan.” I waved my fingers at his experiment. “When you know what you’ve got going there, I’d love to hear about it.” I slipped out.

  ***

  “Hello?” I exchanged greetings with my parents as we video chatted.

  “Mrs. Parker said her daughter heard from Baylor. She got in! I can’t believe you haven’t heard anything.”

  My insides wiggled, and I pulled my email up.

  Nothing.

  “Now, dear,” Dad said to Mom, “don’t make her feel bad.” Dad focused on me. “We know you’re doing the best you can. You keep doing what you’re doing. Medical school will work out.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  ***

  Winter formal. My debut date with Chance. We were coming out big in front of all the girls who’d volunteered to be set up with him. That wouldn’t be awkward at all. They’d have no opinions on my worthiness.

  Hah.

 

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