Page 53 of Love Me Like It's Real
“Drama is my middle name,” he answers and takes a bow. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
I nod and walk up to his car when my stomach wails like a baby.
“What the hell was that?” Hayworth grins, staring at my belly.
“Ah, that. That would be my stomach complaining that I haven’t fed it yet.”
Hayworth bites his lip and just before he closes the car door behind me, says: “Hang on,” and rushes back inside.
I stare at the door in complete disbelief of how tonight’s “date” has gone. I’d be lying if I said I knew this was how it was going to turn out, but that was a lot more fun than I thought it’d be.
I haven’t laughed like that in ages.
Maybe there’s something to this Valentine-hating method he’s got going for him.
A minute later Hayworth runs out with something in his hands. Our pizza on top of tons of paper towels that he disposes of in my lap before setting off for destination unknown.
“I don’t think it’s fully cooked, but it’s better than nothing, right?” He smirks and I look down at my lap that’s on fire by the home-made pizza and the labor of our fake love.
It’s an absolute mess and yet…
“It’s perfect,” I say and put my hands under the paper towel to stop the burning. Not that it does anything to stop the heat from crawling all through my body, setting me on fire.
“That’s what I was thinking,” he agrees and I stare into his eyes far longer than necessary.
They’re dark, beautiful and addictive. And I can’t help but feel they’re the most dangerous eyes I could ever look into.
They look like eyes that could set me ablaze.
FIFTEEN
HAYWORTH
“I hate to admit it, but that was a lot more fun than I thought,” he says with the biggest smile and I can’t help but mimic him.
“I told you, my way is better,” I tell him as I come to a stop a few blocks away from his home and the edge of the Maplewood downtown.
“And what is your way exactly? Having fake domestics in the middle of the most boring event ever?”
He tears off a piece of the pizza and offers it to me before he tears one for himself. In my rush to take it out of the oven and find some way to transport it I didn’t get to cut it up, probably for the best as that would have made carrying it out even more complicated.
“Yeah. Anything that can disrupt this schmoopy, sickly, sweet holiday that makes everyone so…fake.”
Felix stares at me for a moment and I can’t quite tell if it’s with disgust or intrigue.
“What happened to you?” he asks eventually with kind eyes and a full mouth and I feel the sudden urge to wipe the tomato sauce off his face and kiss him like they do in the movies.
But I don’t.
This…this isn’t real. And even if it was, it’s not me.
“I don’t know what on earth you mean,” I answer and lean back in my seat.
“Oh please,” he snorts, “For someone to hate love so much it makes them physically sick, something definitely happened to you,” he says, chewing a new piece of pizza.
“It’s nice, huh?” I point at the pizza in his lap and smirk.
“A bit doughy but not too much to make it inedible. Don’t tell anyone but I might try this yeast-free dough at home.”
