I wrinkle my nose at him. “You’re a pig.”
“Hey, you started it.”
“Touché,” I mutter grudgingly.
“But to answer your question,” he clears his throat, “I was there because your mom said you’d be there. I went by your house first.”
“You were looking for me? W-Why?”
Curb your expectations, Indie. Curb your expectations.
He blows out a breath, as if finding it hard to articulate what he wants to say. “I was, uh, hoping you wanted to hang out or something.”
I blink at him, then my mouth falls open. “Oh, my God. I was right. You were asking me out!”
Heads turn in our direction, shooting annoyed looks our way.
I ignore them. This is important.
I keep my eyes on Gray, my heart racing like crazy. “Well?” I prompt.
His lips twitch with amusement. “Technically, I didn't have the chance to ask. You beat me to it, remember? And then you quickly backpedaled.” To my absolute horror, he repeats my earlier words in a high-pitched voice. "Kidding! Got you there, am I right?'"
"Oh my God, you're the worst." But there's no heat to my words.
"Admit it, it was funny."
"It really was." Then we burst out laughing.
We're still laughing when a waitress sets our food orders on the table. She shoots us a funny look, which only makes us laugh harder.
"Okay, stop," I choke out in between laughter. "My stomach already hurts."
"I'm not laughing anymore," Gray says even though his shoulders are still shaking.
It takes us another minute to finally settle down and focus on our food. But occasionally, our eyes meet, and we chuckle silently.
As first dates go, this one isn't so bad. But are we really dating for real now? That's the million-dollar question. I'm tempted to ask, but I don't want to look clingy and desperate.
And we haven't even talked about Brad—now that he's single again. At least, according to Allie. I haven't bothered to check it for myself yet. I've been avoiding checking my socials since Friday. I'd see the confirmation for myself when school resumes tomorrow, anyway.
Besides, I'd rather save the serious talk for another day. For now, I'll just enjoy my maybe-date with Grayson.
CHAPTER 8
I have a huge smile on my face—a huge, goofy smile. And it has nothing to do with the fact that Brad and Daphne have broken up and everything to do with my maybe-date with Gray yesterday.
We didn't go to a fancy restaurant—only at Jerry's—but it felt like we did, anyway. I had a really good time with him. And the steamy makeout session in his Jeep that followed afterward wasn't so bad, either.
Not so bad at all.
But back to Brad and Daphne—yes, they really called it quits. And everyone’s been talking about it with differing opinions. Some are mocking the fact that their relationship only lasted for a week. Others are wondering if I had anything to do with it.
Or if I’ll be happy to take Brad back now that’s he’s single again. Are we going to pick up where we left off and be the happy ‘IT’ couple again? The answer to both is a big fat NO, by the way.
I haven’t seen my douchebag of an ex though. But as I make my way down the hall, I spot Daphne crying in front of her locker, with Merritt Wayne and the rest of their clique consoling her. It doesn’t surprise me when they turn their heads in unison to shoot daggers when I walk past.
Not one to cower in fear, I respond with a wave and a mocking smirk. Call me a bitch, but I’m not feeling sympathetic toward their friend at all. As far as I’m concerned, she’s made her bed.
And as for their breakup? I frankly couldn’t care less.
There are a couple questions on my mind though. Am I really the reason why they broke up? And now that he’s single again, will he try to get back together with me?
But then again, maybe it’s only been a misunderstanding. Although, judging by the sound of Daphne’s sobs, it doesn’t seem like a simple misunderstanding. It sounds...final.
But those internal questions are simply out of curiosity and not because of some deep-seated feelings for the guy.
Honestly, I’m more preoccupied with my current status with Gray. What’s going to happen to us, moving forward? We haven’t really had the chance to talk yesterday—not about Brad, not about the status of our fake relationship.
But is it still a fake relationship when we already went out on a date—okay, still maybe-date—and have been kissing like a real couple?
Those kisses, ugh, they’re all I can think about. I’m officially addicted to them, and frankly, I can’t wait for the next time we’ll get to be alone. My lips throb and my skin heats up just thinking about it. And the thought of us "breaking up" makes every nerve in my body scream their refusal.
But we have to, right? One way or another, we're going to end our charade. It can't last forever. I can probably only give it another week.
What’s going to happen then?
"Why do you look so glum?" Allison prods while we're having lunch in the cafeteria. "Shouldn't you be celebrating? Your revenge worked." She mutters the last words in a hushed tone, after warily flicking her eyes around for eavesdroppers.
Shrugging, I grab a fry from my plate and pop it into my mouth. “We don’t even know if they really broke up because of me. For all we know, it was for an entirely different reason.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “You know, for someone who’s been adamant to see her plan through, you seem incredibly blasé about the whole thing.”
“I’m happy, okay? It’s just...I told you, I’m not sure if—”
“Oh, come on,” she interrupts me with a snort. “Didn’t Brad confront you about Gray already? Seriously, how convenient that they broke up right after that happened?”
The truth is, I’m also positively certain that Brad broke up with Daphne because of me. Our confrontation in that empty classroom should be enough proof. I know I should be making a big deal out of it. I should be gloating and celebrating my victory. But I just can’t bring myself to care.
I guess I’m too wrapped up in the whole Gray thing to pay attention to anything else. I just hate that I can’t tell Allie about it. She’ll probably freak out if I do. It’s her brother we’re talking about, after all. So I’ll have to keep it a secret for now. At least until things are settled between me and Gray.
It's probably not healthy—with the way I'm obsessing about it. I mean, I should be focusing on the completion of my revenge more than anything else. Besides, I just got out of a relationship. Is it smart to get into a new one so soon?
What if what I'm feeling for Gray is nothing but a rebound?
To be honest, I don't think it is. But how can I really be sure?
Ugh. I'm giving myself a headache with all these crazy thoughts.
I slap my hand on the table, startling Allie. Hiding my frustration with a smile, I tell her, “You know what? Why don’t we just wait and see if they’re really broken up for real? If it isn’t just some sort of misunderstanding and it sticks, we’ll go bake a cake or something.”
“And then we’ll throw it on their faces?” Allie asks gleefully.
I stare at her, then blink, and stare some more. “Who are you and what did you do to my best friend?”
First the egging thing, and now this... Is Allie finally ditching her goody-two-shoes persona?
“I was just kidding.” She sticks her tongue out and sips on her Coke. “But it sure would be fun.”
I just shake my head and laugh.
Oh, it definitely would.
*******
“We seriously need to stop doing this.” I pull at Gray’s hair as his lips trail kisses down the side of my neck, sending a delicious ripple of electric heat through me.
I can never get enough of this. Of his kiss, of his touch, of the way he makes me feel.
"That's the third time you've said that," he murmurs into my ear before nipping at the
lobe, making me shudder. "Yet you're still grinding on my lap."
We're in the backseat of his Jeep, just a block away from my house. He was just supposed to drive me home, then the next thing I knew, he was parking his vehicle and we were making out like there was no tomorrow. I can't even remember how and when we moved seats.
Now it's been ten minutes, and the windows have completely fogged up, but we're not even close to stopping—no matter how many times I told him that we should.
Damn Gray and his wicked lips. Every time they go near me, I lose sense of everything. It's like the only thing that matters is kissing—lots and lots of kissing.
My lips can fall off right here, right now and I'll still find a way to make out with him.
"It's your fault. You're so good at this," I pant, before slamming my lips against his in a hard, all-consuming kiss.
"Fuck," he groans when I move my hips just right, creating the most delicious friction that makes me moan out loud, his fingers digging into my jean-clad thighs. "Back at you, babe. You're so goddamn hot."
"Let's be hot together," I pant nonsensically, making his chest rumble with a chuckle.
I don't want this to stop.
But it's like the universe isn't listening to me at all. Just as I finished thinking it, a phone rings.
"Ignore that," Gray orders as he pulls down the neckline of my v-neck shirt, placing kisses on the swell of my boobs.
When he cups one of them under my shirt, my eyes screw shut and my back arch. "It's not my phone," I gasp.
So I'm happy to comply to his command.
But the phone continues to be a buzzkill. Which annoyingly kills the mood.
Blowing out a breath, I grab his roaming hands and pull back a little. "I think it's your phone, Gray."
"Huh?" Gray has to blink a few times to get the lust-haze out of his face and focus on what I'm saying.
I can't help but giggle. I did that to him. "Your phone. It's the one that's been ringing."
His response is to groan out loud.
I try to get off his lap, but his one hand stops me from moving as his other reaches for his bag from the front seat to take out his ringing phone.
Sooo, I guess we'll go back to making out once the call is over? Obviously, I'm cool with that.
Frowning at his phone, he says, "It's Duane." Cursing under his breath, he hits answer. "Dude, this better be good. I'm busy right now." He winks at me.
I roll my eyes—and not out of pleasure this time. The guy is so cocky, ugh.
But you love it, anyway.
Damn him, but I do. Every day, my feelings for him seem to grow. And it's freaking the shit out of me.
The rebound question has already been answered: and it's a definite no.
My feelings for him are one hundred percent true and authentic.
But I can't bring myself to tell him what I feel—what I really want out of this fake relationship. That I want nothing more than to make it real.
I’m just afraid that we’re not on the same page.
Sighing inwardly, I let my eyes trail over Gray as he speaks with his best friend, his hair completely mussed, his eyes still a little hooded, his lips red and swollen. He looks good enough to eat.
Apparently, our long makeout session is still isn’t enough for me.
“Okay, we’ll be there.” He ends the call and tosses his phone into the empty space on the seat next to us. “There’s a party tonight at Duane’s,” he tells me as he rubs the sides of my thighs.
I lift a brow. “On a school night?”
He shrugs his shoulders. “Duane feels like partying. It’s just probably going to be a small group. Just our team, and maybe some girls.”
“Uh-huh.” I fold my arms. “Let me guess, you’re going to party with those girls?”
A smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Jealous, Red?”
I give him a smirk of my own. “You wish, Turner.”
Chuckling softly, he leans up on his seat and plants a chaste kiss on my lips. “Who says I want to party with them? You’re going with me, and you’re the only one I’ll be partying with.”
“Really, huh? And who says I’m coming?”
“Come on, we’re just going to chill out. Allie can come, too. So if it gets to be too much, you can hang out with her.” He pauses. “Besides, Brad is going to be there. If you're still intent on making him jealous, we should show up together.”
A hollow feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. Is that the only reason why he wants me to go to the party? So we can continue fooling Brad into thinking that we’re together? Not because he wants me to be there with him?
“What’s wrong, Red?” The gentleness and concern in Grayson’s tone make my heart flutter.
Which only confirms what I already know: I’m falling for him.
I force a smile. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”
CHAPTER 9
“Small group, huh?” I flash Gray a sarcastic look as we step inside Duane’s house, the loud music and overflowing party-goers greeting us immediately.
Good thing I decided to dress up even when I thought it was just going to be a small party. I’m wearing a cute lace crop top over a floral-print skater skirt, my hair dolled up in a curled high tail.
Gray holds up both his hands. “I swear, I didn’t know.”
Oh, he’s so full of shit.
But before I can chide him further, Allie—who looks pretty in her pink dress—is already hooking her arm through mine. “Come on, let’s get something to drink. I’m parched.”
Well, we’re already here, aren’t we? Might as well have fun while we’re at it.
Leaving Gray by the door, we push through the thick crowd to head for the kitchen. Thankfully, we don’t have to. There’s a bar set up in one corner of the house, so we just make our way there instead, and grab ourselves two soda cups filled with beer.
After taking healthy swigs, we make a beeline for the dancefloor—or at least the spot where people are dancing—and shake our butts off to the music.
And for a while, I forget about everything: Gray, Brad, and the conundrum that I’m in. I move my hips like no one’s watching and get lost in the thumping beat of the speakers. I’m no graceful dancer, my movements are kind of sloppy, but I don’t care if anyone’s watching.
"Oh, I love this song!" Allie yells into my ear as a Dua Lipa song comes on.
"Me, too!" I scream the lyrics along with her, giggling like crazy when we butcher them.
Every once in a while, my eyes connect with Gray, who's watching me in amusement from the couch with Duane and some of their teammates. I blow kisses his way, making him chuckle and shake his head.
I’d love to drag him to the dancefloor with me, but Allie would think that as odd. So I simply content myself with exchanging flirty, mischievous glances with him.
And because I’m in a Grayson-filled haze, it takes me a while to notice that Brad is with the lacrosse guys, too. He's in the single-seater, shooting daggers at Gray.
God, I hope he won't cause any scene.
As if he’s read my mind, his gaze shifts to me. He doesn’t give me the angry look though. Instead, his eyes turn soft. He’s looking at me the same way he used to. Like we’re still together.
Only it’s not the same. That look used to make my insides flutter. Now, it doesn’t have any effect on me at all.
I've truly moved on. I pretty much know it already, but this…this is the confirmation I didn't know I needed.
My eyes find Gray's once again, and this time I feel something. My heart rate spikes, my skin flushing as anticipation knots in my stomach. I can’t wait to be alone with him again.
But before I can do something stupid—like throw myself at him in front of this crowd—I tear my gaze away and approach the bar. Water. I need water. Preferably cold to cool my skin.
I blame Gray. And, okay, dancing, too.
It turns out there’s no available water in the bar, so I amble to the kitch
en to get some, waving to Allison and signaling that I’ll be right back.
Thankfully, the kitchen isn’t packed like the rest of the house. There are only a few stragglers chatting among themselves. I say hi to familiar faces before moving to the fridge, greedily guzzling down the water bottle I find inside and grabbing another one for Allie.
“Indie, can we talk?”
I remain still. Is that Merritt Wayne? Turning on my heels, I almost bump into her. Taking a step back, I eye her warily. “What do you want?”
She lifts up a finger as if telling me to wait, before ordering everyone to leave the kitchen.
I’m not even surprised to see them complying without protests. When the resident queen bee of Maple Grove High wants you to do something, you follow right away.
“Spill it, Merritt. I don’t have all night,” I say, boredom lacing my tone.
Yeah, I’m not one of her followers.
“Fine. This won’t take long,” she huffs, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder, clearly annoyed that I’m not acting the least bit intimidated. “I know you’re just pretending to be in a relationship with Gray.”
My heart stops and lodges in my throat. Then picks up its pace and hammers against my chest. How did she find out? Did Gray tell her?
"Don't bother denying it. I've heard the two of you talking outside the boys' locker room."
Relief courses through my body knowing he didn’t betray me. But then my mind races back to that day. I thought he and I were all alone in the hall. Apparently, I was wrong.
Now that Merritt knows our secret, it’s just a matter of time before everyone else finds out. They thought of me as pathetic when Brad dumped me. What will they think of me once they learn the truth?
Sneering, her eyes flick over me. "I have to admit though, you had me fooled there. Who would have thought you'd be desperate enough to enlist Gray's help just to get Brad back?"
I raise my chin in defiance, even though I'm freaking out and my insides are knotted with anxiety. "So, what, you're going to blabber your mouth to everyone?"
"Yes," she says with a smug smile.
Faking It (Fake Boyfriend Duet Book 1) Page 5