Page 53 of Fake Game

“Thank you, have a lovely evening.” The waitress smiles and leaves us.

Jackson tucks his phone back into his pocket and lazily saunters away in the opposite direction, to the exit of the restaurant.

“Hey, we’re not done here,” I call out.

He just raises a hand and gives me a pitiful wave.

“Gods dammit,” I huff, shoving the money back in my bag and grabbing my jacket as I stalk after him.

“What’s he talking about?” Lee jogs up beside me.

“The other day, Stevie suggested he pretend to date someone to get his family off his back. I suggested myself.”

“Why would you suggest yourself?”

That’s what I would like to know.

I’m just gonna call it a temporary disillusion from being in too close proximity to his hot body. It was easy to distance myself when we only chatted virtually, but now that I am constantly around him, it’s making my brain go all mushy.

“Doesn’t matter because he said it was an awful idea.”

“Clearly, that’s not the case.”

“Clearly,” I mumble.

We catch up to Jackson outside the restaurant, where he has the passenger door to his Jeep open. He nods towards the interior of the car, “Come on. I’m not holding this door open forever.”

“What?”

“Home. Unless you’ve found somewhere else to sleep over the last four hours?”

Gods Dammit.

I shoot Lee an apologetic look. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” She pulls me into a hug that abates some of my annoyance. “Call me when you get back so we can debrief, ‘kay? I’m not letting this go just yet.” She waggles a finger before walking off.

“Come on, Sparkles.”

I groan, glaring at him before hauling myself into the passenger seat as he closes the door behind me.

How did this happen?

I stare out the window, watching as Lee gets into her own car and wishing I’d made up some valid excuse to follow her. I should’ve said we were having a girl’s night and I was sleeping over.

“Buckle up.”

Jackson’s deep timbre pulls me out of my haze as he starts up the car.

“Why did you pay?” I ask, fastening my seat belt. “I’m perfectly capable of covering my own dinner.”

“Consider it a thank you for your service.”

“A service I thought you didn’t want to purchase.”

Jackson runs a hand down his face, like I’m the one annoying him when he brought me into this whole situation. “Look, the date was going badly.”

“Seemed like she was having a great time,” I grumble, remembering the way she had been laughing with him.

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