Page 47 of Beautiful Thing

Felix nods, and his face is full of amusement.

“Don’t look at me like that.” I bark. “I know it’s wrong to lie to them and everyone else, but you have no grounds to be the morality police on this.”

“Look, I’m not judging you,” Felix claims, holding his palms up appeasingly. “I just know how this story will end.”

I frown at him. “What does that mean?”

He pulls in a deep breath. “Here’s a better question—how long did it take for me to actually fall pathetically, ridiculously, incredibly in love with my fake fiancee?”

“Less thanfive seconds.” I snort.

“Correct again.” Felix waggles his eyebrows at me, looking extra proud of himself.

I scoff, shaking my head. “I’m not going to fall in love with Layla.”Because I already am. The difference is I don’t plan to act on it. Ever. I can’t.

Felix lets out an uproarious laugh. “You are so screwed, dumbass.” He cackles and cackles before eventually going serious. “I’m saying this from experience—you’re playing a dangerous game, Archer. I just hope you’re ready for the consequences.”

19

ARCHER

Well into the next afternoon, Felix’s words are still haunting my head. It’s doing wonders for my shitty mood.

Is he right, though?

Am I going to make this one-sided crush worse by pretending to be in a relationship with Layla?

I’m already borderline obsessed with the girl. Can things actually get worse for me?

I’m trying to distract myself with busy work as I stock shelves near the front of the hardware store. But whenever Layla’s within earshot, I can never fully be focused on the task at hand.

She’s been helping a customer at the register for the past fifteen minutes, and I swear the dude is just taking his sweet time because he wants to chat it up with my fake girlfriend.

She’s nearly done ringing him up, when she calls out to me. “Hey, Archer. Can you do a price check on a driver bit set? The 100-piece? It’s not marked.”

“Check for a sticker,” I grumble back from where I’m stacking paint cans across the floor. “It should be marked.”

“I already checked. It’s not marked,” she repeats. I can hear the annoyance in her voice, but she tries to keep smiling. She’s so much better with customers than I am. She’s a natural at this business thing.

“You check the bottom?” I bite back. Normally, I try to have a better handle on my grumpiness, but I’m in a funkier funk than usual, I guess.

She sighs. “Yes, I checked the bottom.It’s not marked.”

The customer pipes in, uninvited. “Well, the old owner used to just come up with a fair price if something wasn’t marked. He sure knew how to keep his loyal customers coming back all those years.”

The fuck?

Layla grinds out a tight smile, trying not to roll her eyes at the asshole. “The sets are on aisle three. Can you pop over and double-check for us?” She exaggeratedly bats her lashes at me. “Please?”

I’m reluctantly climbing to my feet as I bite back the complaint on my tongue and give the man an ugly stare. I march on past him, heading to aisle three. I confirm the cost, bark out the price to Layla and stand nearby with my arms crossed, watching as she rings him up once and for all.

“Good riddance,” I mutter when the jerkwad customer finally leaves.

Layla turns to me after the door swings closed. “Y’know, if you don’t stop growling at me all the time, nobody’s going to believe that we’re actually dating. Or fake-dating. Or whatever.”

Grabbing the crossword section of today’s newspaper, I turn and head toward my office. “So, how exactly should I be around you?” I ask, not sticking around for her answer.

Of course, she follows me.

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