Page 118 of The Proposal Pact
“Sophie, it’s just a game. No big deal.”
God, I wanna smack this man so hard. No, big deal…No. Big. Deal! Nope, not at all. But try arguing with him, he’ll deny it until he’s blue in the face.
I forget about the game and food and everything else as I climb into his lap, cup his face and kiss him hard. “Thank you!” I kiss him again and climb off his lap, wiping a tear off my cheek.
Clover chuckles softly and brings me back into his lap, nuzzling into my hair. “You’re welcome, little menace.”
The game ends with Outlaws winning, and soon after I turn on YouTube which has become Clover’s guilty pleasure. Specifically, the cop cam videos.
The first time I turned it on, he grumbled about “what the fuck is this” and that he’s not watching “this bullshit.” The next evening, he pretended he wasn’t watching but sat with me the whole time. On the third, I turned on something else. Clover frowned and grumbled, “Well, this is even worse than those cop videos.”
I laughed so hard as he pretended to be all grumpy about it and turned on the cop videos.
A week later, he’s commenting on everything they do right or wrong. Exactly as he is right now as we lie here, under the blanket, eating chocolate-covered almonds. Another one of his guilty pleasures that I’ve come to know and now keep stocked at home.
“Okay, that was fake!” I say.
“What was?”
I point at the TV where there’s a car chase that ends with the thief abandoning the car and running away from the cops, who get to him way too fast. “There’s no way the cop could actually catch him that fast.”
Clover snorts. “Of course, he could.”
“Yeah, no. Even I could run away from him, and he’d never catch me.”
“Yeah, no,” Clover repeats patronizingly, and I get up from his chest where I’m lying, turning to look at him.
“I totally could.”
“Little menace, sorry to disappoint, but you’d be no match for a cop with training.”
“Is that a challenge?” I narrow my eyes at him for a beat, before I jump off the couch, walking toward the front door and slide my trusty, old Converse on.
“Where are you going?” Clover asks, suspiciously.
“Not me, we.” I take out his shoes from the closet. “Come on, up you go.”
Looking at me all confused, he does as I say.
Without saying another word, I walk out of the apartment with Clover trailing behind me. “Care to tell me where is it that we are going at eleven-seventeen PM?”
“To prove a point.”
34
Callum
“I knew the second I met you that there was something about you I needed. Turns out, it wasn’t something about you at all. It was just you.” – Jamie McGuire
“What—motherfu…”
My curse gets lost when this little shit takes off down the street like her ass is on fire, her laugh echoing through the almost empty street.
To prove a point. Oh, I’ll prove it, all right! Shaking my head and refusing to admit that I’m amused, I sprint after her.
What has my life turned into? I’m chasing my fake wife down Love Street, wearing only my sweatpants in mid-fall.
I nearly miss a step when I remember Sophie is only wearing her Outlaws jersey and a pair of neon green panties. Fuckinghell. I speed up because she’s actually fast and she might’ve gotten away if this was anyone else chasing her.
