Page 56 of The Pretender

“You did deserve it,” she finally agrees with a grin. “But I still shouldn’t have done that to you. It was wrong.”

I shrug. I don’t know that I would classify what she did as wrong. Maybe a little devious, but that’s how you win a prank war.

“Oh look, there’s Brick,” she says, moving the dog and standing, still holding its collar. “Hold Scarlett while I get the others.”

I look down at Scarlett as she cracks an eyelid. “Brick’s an easy target,” I tell her. “You won’t have any trouble getting him down should he get on your nerves.”

Scarlett acts like she understands me and closes her eyes, ignoring the six other barking dogs. I knew she was the cool one. She isn’t threatened at all by the Ed Sheeran looking filmmaker.

“I’m going to give Brick a tour around the grounds,” Vee says. “You going to be okay here?”

I nod, and then glare at Brick. “But I’m getting hungry so try not to shoot the grass and the tubs of dog food.”

Vee rolls her eyes. “Your Midol wore off I see.”

I could argue and say Brick puts me in a shitty ass mood, but I don’t, because that would show spending the day with Vee didn’t put me in a shitty mood and that’s a big fucking problem.

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN

Sebastian

University CamFlix Competition Submission

Entry Number: 75

Sebastian and Valentina

Second Interview Continued, or that time I counted the gray hairs on Tom’s head

“Sweetie, I think you aren’t remembering correctly. I think I was trying to give you a science lesson and you clearly misunderstood me.”

Vee smiles and shakes her head. “I feel pretty certain you told me you loved me that night when I changed your clothes and tucked you into bed.”

Okay. So I vaguely remember saying that part but, again, I was completely and utterly trashed. I offer Tom a tense grin. “As you can see, Vee and I go way back. It’s actually kind of hard to determine when exactly we realized we were in love.”

* * *

“It still doesn’t look right,”she whines, moving the pillow under my head. “It looks staged.”

I grunt when she snatches the pillow—the one she still hasn’t given back. My head falls against the mattress. “It looks like it’s staged because it is.” I lean up enough to see her eye roll.

“I think you’re just stalling. It doesn’t matter if we’re up against the wall or in a bed, our fans just want to see us kiss.”

Last night when Vee came over to watch a movie in her chair on my back patio, we scrolled through the comments of the video at the dog rescue her uncle owns. Brick managed to get a clip of me arguing with Vee that Scarlett was nothing but a lap dog at this point. To prove it, I scooped up a squealing Vee, pretending to kidnap her, while Scarlett watched on, unamused. It was all fun and games until Turner (I was right. He was the tan one) caught up to me and took me and Vee down with one well-placed jump.

Vee was on the ground. I was laughing, hovered above her, while we both tried to calm Turner down. It was a mess, but apparently, our viewers went crazy and commented with the likes of: “Kiss her already!” “I wish he would kidnap me.” “Some guys have all the luck.” “Kiss her!” “Kiss her!”

“Kiss her already!”

You get the point. Our viewers had spoken, and if we want to keep them voting by liking our videos, we have to give them what they want. And what they want is for me to suck Vee’s face.

“I’m not stalling,” she says, huffing so hard that a piece of hair flutters over her face.

“I disagree. When you’ve set this pillow up eight different ways, only to make me move to the sofa and back again, I’d say you’re stalling.”

I can see the determination set in when she narrows her gaze on my face.

“I promise, I’ve brushed my teeth.”

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