Page 35 of Fake Dating Adrian Hunter
We continue the rest of the way to our bungalow in silence, with me dwelling over how much I want my best friend back, and Adrian thinking about… probably how much he loves Isabelle.
I step aside as Adrian unlocks the front door of our bungalow. My pride is too obsessed with itself to speak any of these Adrian revelations aloud, so I settle for something more shaded. “By the way, you’re right. I do owe you thanks for saving me from drowning. Also for preventing further embarrassment by getting me off that beach.”
He pauses, laughing to himself. “Owing me thanks and actually thanking me are not the same thing.”
“Okay,” I sigh. “Thank you, Adrian.”
“Seriously? Verena Valentine is thanking me? I never thought I’d hear you say those words to my face.”
Yep, see. This is why I went in with shields. “Don’t be a prick about it.”
“Oh, I’m never a prick, Vee.”
My breath stops short. That name again. He’s been dropping that bomb all night like it’s a thoughtless habit.
Once we’re inside the bungalow, I close the door behind us and step out of my heels, lowering myself a good five inches. “No one’s around. You don’t have to keep calling me Vee or pretending to be nice.”
“Hadn’t realized I was doing it.” He empties his pockets on the living room table. “And I’m not pretending anything. You’re genuinely fun to be around when you’re not acting like a bitch.”
“Do you ever stop with the insults?”
“I saidactinglike a bitch, not that you’re actually one. They’re two very different things.”
“Adrian…” I’m about to fight back with some smart comment but decide to hold my tongue, not wanting to jeopardize this state of semi-peace we’ve formed. Silence lingers between us, and Adrian folds his arms, waiting for me to continue, but I don’t.
“Yes?” he prompts.
Something more important comes to mind. “Did you really mean—” Ugh, I don’t know why I’m asking this, but I’m already halfway through the question and may as well finish it. “Did you really mean what you said at the cocktail lounge—about the past fading?”
“Yeah, I did. It’s been seven years. I’m not hung up on what went down between us as kids. And let me be clear about something. I don’t hate you.”
My gaze narrows with confusion. “But last night… In the ocean… You said you would have sex with me if you didn’t hate me so much.”
“I was messing around. Playing with you.”
"Wait. So… that means…” My thoughts suddenly turn filthy.
A lazy grin pulls at his lips. “Yeah, I’d fuck you if the right moment presented itself.”
I lick my lips. Isnowthe right moment?
“No, Vee, this isn’t the right moment,” he says, amused.
Shit. I spoke my thoughts out loud.
That same serious expression from earlier in the night returns to Adrian’s face—the one when we were having a moment while overlooking the ocean. “Tell me what you remember most about our past.”
His question makes all the steamy thoughts disappear from my mind. “I don’t want to relive those memories. For once, we’re getting along reasonably well. I’d rather not reopen old wounds.”
“What do you mean ‘for once?’ As I recall, there were years where we were attached at the hip.”
“You know what I mean,” I call over my shoulder, leaving him in the living room as I retire for the night.
“Hey, what was with that wholeI hate the color pinkthing?”
I’m halfway across the room when I stop to face him again. “You hated it as a kid.”
“Don’t all boys hate pink?”
