Act Like You Love Me (An Accidentally in Love Novel) (Entangled: Bliss)

by Madsen, Cindi

  Realization hit Brynn. “You’re asking me to be a bridesmaid?”

  “If you want to be. I know it’ll probably be kinda lame, just a lot of standing in a pretty dress.”

  “That sounds awesome to me!” Brynn leaned over the table and hugged Dani.

  “Well, this went better than expected,” Dani said with a laugh. “If I were you, I would’ve asked for more than ice cream in exchange.”

  As Dani went over details for the wedding—and even pulled out a bridal magazine—Brynn couldn’t help but think about how she wanted that one day. Having off-the-charts chemistry with Sawyer was amazing, but an annoying voice was whispering it’d never be enough for her. That she’d never be able to relax knowing they not only wanted different things from a relationship, but also he had fallen for the glamorous, flippant actress she was only pretending to be.

  She longed to look across at a guy whom she loved and know he wanted to spend his life with her, too, and there was no way that was where she and Sawyer were headed.

  Maybe her life was doomed to be a love-free tragedy forever.

  Chapter Twelve

  When Brynn pulled into the back parking lot, Sawyer’s car was there and he was standing next to it. The sight of him was enough to make her stomach swirl with anticipation. Her brain apparently didn’t get the message that she was still deciding what to do about her director dilemma.

  She’d almost texted Dani twice this afternoon, telling her to set up a date with the cop. It was always good to have options. But then she’d think of how she’d feel if Sawyer went out with someone else, and guilt would weigh her down.

  She got out of the car, her heart beating faster every second. “Hey.”

  “I figured we should clear the air before practice so we don’t have the kind of rehearsal we had yesterday,” Sawyer said.

  “Probably a good plan.” She didn’t know what to do with her hands.

  “Also figured if you were mad that I kissed you today, you’d just hit me with your car.” He cracked a smile.

  The knot in her stomach loosened as she smiled back. “If I didn’t have that warrant out for my arrest already, I might consider it.”

  See, things were easy between them. Maybe it was all the practice, but flirting came more naturally. She even let some of her real self slip through without making a fool of herself.

  He took a step toward her, and she reciprocated. One more step and he wrapped his arms around her waist. He buried his head in her neck, his breath warm against her skin. Then he kissed his way up it, to her jaw, her lips. Her knees threatened to give out on her, so she clung to him, her breath coming faster and faster.

  I could get used to this.

  Except that she couldn’t. Not really.

  Sawyer must’ve sensed her hesitation because he straightened and peered into her eyes. “You know I don’t expect anything from you, right?” He ran his fingers down her arm and then took her hand. “I don’t only want one thing from you…”

  “I’m sorry, that was too harsh. I was just…” The hurt from yesterday rose up again, tightening her chest. “I’m not looking for some big relationship, but I’m not a fling kind of girl, either.”

  She waited for him to tense up or run—maybe she should’ve listened to Paul and kept on pretending a relationship didn’t matter to her, but in that moment at least, she wanted to be real. It was one thing for him to not feel the same, another to feel like she was being used.

  Sawyer rubbed his thumb across her knuckles. “We can take it as slow as you want. When I’m around you I’m happier. You’re funny and sweet and when I opened up about my dad… I’ve never been able to talk to anyone but my mom about him, and even then, I usually hold back.”

  Her heart expanded, pushing against the walls of her chest.

  He slipped his fingers between hers. “I may not have a lot of time here, but I want to spend it all with you.” He gently kissed her lips. “What do you say?”

  Wasn’t that the million-dollar question? With her hand in his, she was thinking she didn’t want to give this up. She could pretend it didn’t bother her that he was leaving soon and she’d be left nursing a broken heart. And in a way this was good, because it meant she would never have to confess to being the nerdy girl in high school that he’d blown off—all he’d ever know her as was cool and confident.

  That thought was supposed to make her feel better, but instead she started questioning everything all over again. Could she do it? She took in the way his brown hair was longer and slightly wavy on top. The perfect symmetry of his features and how the creases around his mouth gave him a slightly rugged look. The green eyes that she’d always adored, which were on her now. The guy was passionate about his screenwriting and could turn a rundown house into a work of art. Not to mention funny and caring and smart…

  “Sounds perfect,” she said.

  At this point, what was one more act?

  Brynn rushed inside her place, gathering the kissing figurines. She had more than she remembered. It all started around fourteen years old, when she was in Atlanta visiting with her maternal grandparents. Grandma took her into an antique shop and there was a little ceramic boy and girl kissing, and they were so cute, Brynn had to buy them. So now whenever she passed a shop filled with old treasures, she looked for more. They didn’t have to be people necessarily—she had two giraffes with entwined necks, their lips smooshed together as well.

  She didn’t have any pictures from high school out, but she considered hiding the photo albums in case, for some odd reason, Sawyer passed the bookcase and happened to pick one up. There was no way she could hold them, though, and her angel girl who paired up with the kissing devil boy figurine was about to fall to the floor.

  Tightening her grip on her collection, she walked down the hall and into her bedroom. Brynn hovered the ceramic statues over her dresser, but hesitated right before letting go. What if she and Sawyer wound up in here tonight?

  I’m so not ready to go there. Not that I don’t want to… She glanced at the bed and saw a flash of Sawyer and her kissing there, clothes coming off one piece at a time. Her rapid pulse pounded through her head and the temperature in the room shot up.

  She turned her attention back to her figurines and then dumped them on the dresser to help keep her in check.

  The doorbell rang, a high-pitched electronic chime that sounded like it was about to die, and she rushed into the living room. The Kiss painting Paul had teased her about was still hanging on the wall, high enough it would be much easier to take down with a chair. She darted to the kitchen, grabbed hold of the top of a chair—and the doorbell rang again.

  If he can’t handle a picture of kissing, I guess he doesn’t get to kiss me. Desperately hoping that wouldn’t happen, since she was already craving the feel of his lips on hers, Brynn let go of the chair, smoothed down her hair, and blew out a long breath.

  When she opened the door, a thrill shot through her stomach. The cute guy holding a pizza box with a six-pack of grape soda was there for her. He was wearing a gray T-shirt that showed off his muscular chest and arms, and his hair was damp, so he must’ve showered.

  Crap, I probably should’ve showered, too. After working in a bait shop, that fish smell permeated everything. She’d gotten so used to it, she worried she might not realize she smelled. How could I forget an extra spritz of perfume?

  Because I was running around like a crazy person gathering kissing statues.

  He leaned in and gave her a peck on the cheek, the edge of the pizza box hitting her hip. “You gonna let me in?”

  “Still deciding.” She ran her gaze up and down him and then smiled. “Yeah, I think you need to come in.”

  And even though she’d been kissing him off and on for a few weeks, she still had the thought, Oh my gosh, Sawyer Raines is totally in my house.

  He set the soda and box of heavenly scented pizza on her coffee table and sat down on the couch. She went into the kitchen, grabbed plates
and napkins, then settled in next to him, thinking he smelled as delicious as the pizza. Something woodsy and citrusy and totally guy.

  He handed her a cold can of soda. “I knew you’d be sad if I didn’t bring you one, even if you do mock me for it.”

  “I think it’s kinda cute, actually.”

  “‘Cute.’ What every guy dreams of being called by a beautiful woman.”

  Tingly warmth wound through her, and she was sure she was grinning like an idiot. “Well, cute and very macho, of course. Drinking grape soda makes you a total nonconformist and gives you that bad-boy edge every girl looks for.”

  “Oh, I’m definitely a bad boy, then.” He leaned in and kissed her neck, and cute flew out the window. Heat flared through her core, and she realized her kissing figurines wouldn’t be enough to keep her in check. She needed the cold slap of reality. This guy, no matter how easily he set her skin on fire, would leave soon. She needed to protect herself as much as possible, and she was starting to worry that even if things went no further than kissing, she’d still be completely broken when it ended.

  She cracked the tab of her soda and the noise was enough to semi-break the spell, since Sawyer took the hint like a champ. He handed her a piece of pizza and they kept the talk light for a couple of minutes.

  When Sawyer went for another piece, his foot kicked a wadded piece of paper from under her couch. He bent down to pick it up, then tilted his head as he started to un-crumple the paper—and she realized it was the picture of him, torn from her yearbook.

  “Oh that’s”—she ripped it out of his hand—“nothing.”

  “Picture of an ex?”

  Nervous laughter bubbled out of her mouth. “Playbill of a horrible production. The show was bad, the date was bad.” She crammed the paper deep into the folds of her couch, planning on guarding it with her life. “Awful night I’d like to forget.”

  Sawyer eyed her, brow furrowed, and she was sure he was going to say he’d seen it and demand to know what the hell was going on. Her heartbeats were tripping over each other, the words I can explain on the tip of her tongue.

  But then finally he sat back, another piece of pizza in his hand. “So, did you do plays in high school?”

  From one tricky question to another. Brynn supposed she could get away with the truth. If he hadn’t realized they’d gone to the same high school by now, her admitting to doing plays wouldn’t clue him in. “I mostly did sets in high school, actually.” She was about to say she only got onstage once, but considering it was the most embarrassing moment of her life, she decided not to mention it.

  “I was on the football team, believe it or not.”

  Oh, I remember. Your jersey made your eyes even greener. “Doesn’t seem that hard to believe.”

  “It wasn’t really my thing. My dad played, so I went out for the team to make him happy. Then he got sick, so even though I kind of wanted to quit, I kept going. Playing for him. Even though he couldn’t go to the games anymore.” Sawyer shrugged. “It kept me busy, though, which was good. I probably would’ve gotten into trouble otherwise.”

  Brynn lifted her soda to her lips.

  “I did go to a play once during high school. Only play I’ve ever seen, actually, and this poor girl’s skirt came down in front of the entire audience.”

  Mid-swig, she choked, soda caught in her throat, the bubbles burning her nose.

  “It definitely made for a memorable performance.”

  She coughed, reaching for a napkin.

  Sawyer patted her back. “You okay?”

  She swiped a hand through the air. “Fine,” she wheezed. “Some just went down the wrong tube. No big”—cough—“deal.”

  Her eyes watered, her throat ached, her nose still burned, and so did her cheeks. Whether or not he remembered snubbing her in the school halls, he definitely remembered the stupid play.

  “Be right back.” She headed to the kitchen, grabbed a cup, filled it with water, and took a couple of long pulls. She could just make out her reflection in the tiny window over the sink. For a moment, though, she didn’t see current-day Brynn. She saw the girl she used to be, full of hope, marching to the beat of her own drum. And making a complete fool of herself in front of the entire school.

  Had Sawyer been up front for that show? In the back? It was one of the few times she hadn’t paid attention to exactly where he was, because she’d been focused on how it’d been her time to shine.

  “You okay?” Sawyer asked from behind her.

  She didn’t spin around, simply gripped the counter tighter, letting it dig into her palms. Well, that fun story he’d told about his one high school play experience had worked better than her embarrassment over her kissing statues. The last thing she felt like doing now was taking Sawyer into her bedroom and letting him see her in her underwear.

  Why couldn’t I have been cooler in high school? She told herself it was so that she’d appreciate where she was at now, but where was she? Hiding in the kitchen from the guy who hadn’t thought she was cool enough either.

  But she’d decided to move past that. It was just easier said than done. Especially when he was talking about the incident like a funny story, not one that had made the last few months of high school complete hell. Everywhere she went, it was, There’s McFlasher. Hey, McFlasher. What underwear do you have on today, McFlasher?

  Sawyer’s arms came around her, and she could feel his strong chest against her back. She wanted to sink back against him and let go. Say it didn’t matter. But thoughts were rising up, questions she wanted to know the answers to yet didn’t at the same time. What would he do right now if I told him I was that girl? Laugh? Leave? Say it didn’t matter?

  And the biggest question: Would he even like me if he knew the real me?

  …

  Worry rose up in Sawyer, binding itself over his lungs. Even with his arms tightly around Brynn, he felt like he was somehow losing her. He focused on her breaths, in and out. In and out. A little slower each time, until they were back to normal.

  “Better?”

  She nodded but didn’t turn around.

  “Bet you’re not thinking my grape soda’s so cute now, huh?”

  Her shoulders relaxed. “Very funny. I don’t know how I can be so bad at swallowing. You’d think after all these years I’d have it down.” She turned around in his arms and looked up at him with those big hazel eyes. “Sawyer?”

  The way she said his name turned his insides to mush. Not just because of her smoky voice but because it was as though his name held more weight than it did.

  “I need to tell you something, but I don’t know how…” She pressed her lips together and her face paled. He tensed, sure she was going to say she’d changed her mind, that she couldn’t do this. She had been acting weird all night.

  Maybe she was dating that other guy now—he didn’t know how she would, because he was purposely monopolizing her time so she couldn’t.

  “You know Oscar Wilde?”

  He blinked, catching up to the question that was so opposite of what he expected. “Not personally, no,” he said, hoping to keep the mood light.

  One corner of her mouth tilted up.

  “Of course. You don’t think I’ve paid enough attention to the play to realize he wrote The Importance of Being Earnest? Once I read through the entire thing and saw how it all fit together, he became my new hero. I’ve been thinking about that as I’m trying to write.” Sawyer looked down at her and realized he’d gone off on a tangent. “Sorry. You were saying?”

  “Well, he’s got this quote that’s stuck with me ever since I heard it… ‘Never love someone who treats you like you’re ordinary.’”

  His heart thumped hard in his chest. He wasn’t sure what she was saying. Was he treating her that way? “I like it.” He put his hands on the sides of her waist. “Anyone who thinks you’re ordinary is an idiot. I knew that the first time I laid eyes on you.”

  She laughed, but it wasn’t a happy laugh.
>
  “I mean… Not just the changing in the car. Onstage. From the first time I saw you up there, I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

  She inhaled a deep breath and then let it out. He held his own breath, feeling as though he was awaiting her judgment. Did he pass or not? If she would let him, he’d show her just how amazing he thought she was.

  “What if…?” She shook her head. “Never mind. I’m starving, and the pizza’s getting cold.” She started to move past him, but he caught her hand.

  “Just because I’m leaving soon doesn’t mean you can’t talk to me. Even when I go back, I hope we can keep in touch.” Whoa, where did that come from? It’s not like they could make a long-distance relationship work.

  Could they?

  His heart rate spiked from the pressure, the way it often did when he decided to bind his life to someone else’s, even for a little while. But mixed in there was a glimmer of hope, too, fighting the panic, telling him it might be worth it with Brynn.

  “Sure,” she said, then continued toward the living room. He’d blown off enough suggestions in his life to know that was what Brynn was doing to his.

  He sat next to her on the couch. “You should at least come out sometime so we can go to a Broadway play.”

  Holy shit, shut up! How many times had he wondered why a girl kept pushing when he was obviously trying to pull away? And now he was doing it. What the hell’s this girl done to me? I’m turning into a chick.

  But then she looked at him, and he could see the Broadway idea struck a chord. “I’ve always wanted to see one. I go whenever a big show comes to Charlotte, but I always wonder if it’d be different in New York.”

  He grabbed her hand and kissed the top of it. “Then we’ll go.” His brain started firing off the reasons he couldn’t follow through. How he was probably moving to California and he’d need to be focused on his screenplay.