Page 87 of The Fake Dating War

Fuck, I want to shot-gun another beer badly so he keeps looking at me like that.

Someone suggests a second round, but before we can set up again, thunder rumbles through the sky. Everyone groans when they feel drizzle on their faces.

Before it can get worse, we rush back to the bus, but find it’s locked. The driver is nowhere to be seen.

A search party begins with people shooting off in each direction. I would join, but I don’t think my shoes can handle stomping around the forest bush. Thankfully, there’s a little ledge coming off the rear of the bus. It’s a puny bit of cover, but Coleman claims it for us. At least the rain is only a soft mist against our skin, I think, thereby immediately cursing our fate.

Droplets thicken. More thunder crackles overhead.

Coleman takes his jacket off and holds it above our heads. The sides fall down, blocking out the light. Suddenly, we’re in a private space of our own making. The smell of him surrounds me. I very much don’t hate it.

He shifts to face me, so his large body protects more of me from the rain. Even his jacket is unequally held to favor my coverage. His back must be getting wet.Thank youis what I meant to say.

“I’m glad you are here,” is what comes out.

He blinks. “I’m glad I’m here, too. With you.”

“You know, I never thought you would agree,” I confess. “Back in the office when Mr.Davies made us enter all those clients in, you were really upset that I beat you. But then you still offered to do this for me.”

When my palm rests on his chest, I feel his thudding heartbeat. He doesn’t say anything for a long while. And then he pulls back slightly. “About that. I need to tell you something.”

“No, you need to come closer. You’ll get even more drenched. More of you can fit under here.” I pull at his shirt with heavy-handed strength. An amount he doesn’t expect, since he’s brought forward and squished against me. Noses find each other. A corner of a mouth grazes a bottom lip.

We both suck in sharp breaths, as if singed by the contact.

Faces try to re-align, but without any coordination. Our cheeks drag against each other. It’s soft versus light scruff. Coleman tries to go the other way in the same breath that I have the same idea. Now we’re breathing each other’s air. A droplet of rain falls from his hair and splashes on my lip. When my tongue comes out to wipe it away, his forehead drops to mine, almost surrendering.

A heartbeat passes.

I don’t know who crosses that final distance, but our bodies surge closer. The jacket falls, lost somewhere as Coleman cups my face with his palms desperately. By contrast, the kiss is slow, drug-like, and searing with quiet exploration.

Finally. This.

It feels as if we’ve been pushed off the ledge somewhere, but instead of falling, we are drifting downwards. Delirious excitement curls warmly inside me. I’m not afraid. I’m too content and overjoyed to let anything else in. All I want is to keep doing this. To not stop. For our private world to last forever.

Because our week is almost up and who knows what happens after?

“Reema!”

“Jake!”

It’s the shouting voices of relieved family members looking for us. We pull apart, breathing heavily. From the corner of my eye, I see the bus driver has come back. There’s a lit cigarette dangling between his fingers, somehow persevering against the rain.

Coleman rests a hand on the middle of my back.

“Should we… get inside?” I say faintly.

He reluctantly nods. There’s new tension on his face.

Going around the bus, we see the driver has opened the door. He boards himself first. A line of people rush behind him to get inside. The two of us are at the back of the line when a flash of lightning brightens the sky.

“My jacket,” says Coleman, remembering. “I’ll be right back. You get on ahead of me.”

The line moves quickly, but right as it’s my turn to board, a hand hooks my elbow and holds me back. It’s Esha. She’s grinning. The baby hairs on her forehead are curling wildly. Gurinder is behind her, holding an umbrella up.

“What is it?” I ask. Everyone is waiting for us, and I’m not sure she should be out here in the rain in her condition. I try to move, so she gets on before me, but she shakes her head.

“What is it?” I ask.

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