Page 10 of It's Not All Fake

I wish he would stop staring at me that way, like he’s in on some joke that I’m not.

“Let’s talk about my future relationship.” A mischievous sparkle in his eye makes my breath catch.

“Yes, well, we want to move in that direction,” I agree, feeling suddenly hot under his gaze. “But before we do, I need to hear how things have gone in the past.”

“When you drive a car, do you navigate by looking in the rearview mirror?” His question is confronting.

“Of course, you don’t, but I?—”

“Okay, so I want to talk about my future. My mother is unhappy because she sees me alone.” His fingers tick off his points as he lays them out. “Her expectation is that you will somehow fix me so I can date someone. She is very concerned about who that person will be, and she wants me to give her grandchildren.”

I smile at him. He’s on a mission here.

I remember standing out on the dark sidewalk with him, seeing the genuineness in his eyes. Perhaps he is ready to commit to the life coaching process after all.

His excited energy is contagious, and I lean forward.

“Yes, and I can help?—”

“Yes, you can.” He cuts me off on purpose. What is his game? His stern, controlling demeanor is in stark contrast to the gentleness I saw at the end of our last session. I bristle in my seat.

“Liam, you have to let me speak if I’m going to help you.”

“Just listen this time.” He leans closer to me, holding my gaze. “My mother is picky. She wants a woman she approves of, one she loves, has a relationship with, and can trust. She has never liked any of the women I’ve dated, so it’s difficult to please her. I believe if she sees me with someone she values, she will become more comfortable with my ability to hold a relationship.”

“Well, you’d have to be approachable to anyone first, before they’d have the nerve to date you and meet your mother.” I glare at him, not hiding my displeasure at how he is running over me in the conversation.

“Exactly.”

“What?” He agrees with me?

“You’re right, and I don’t have time for that.”

I’m utterly confused. “Liam, what are you here for today?” I ask pointedly.

“For you.” His eyes fix on mine.

“Me?”

“Yes. You,” he grins at me, and my stomach knots. “My mother loves you. You tick off every box for her.”

I feel myself separating from my body as he talks. My heart is pounding, and the moment doesn’t feel real. What is he saying?

“You’re successful, beautiful, strong,” he continues, leaning in closer to me. “You can tolerate my bullshit, and you make her smile.”

I swallow hard. “I don’t understand, are you asking to date me?” I finally say, my voice barely a whisper.

He chuckles lightly and sits up straight. “Well, on paper, yes.”

“On paper?”

“Well, not on actual paper. We don’t need a signed contract if you agree.”

“To what?” I shake my head, confused.

“What I’m suggesting is that we have a different sort of arrangement. Instead of my life coach, be my girlfriend,” he proposes, his eyes earnest and hopeful.

I sit in silence, reeling. How is this happening? It’s beyond inappropriate. But I feel it, deep down—there’s a part of me that is excited that Liam would want me. I try to rationalize that it’s the primitive part of me—the impulsive, sex-crazy part that just wants to feel good. I mentally try to shove this part aside to think clearly.

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