Page 20 of Fake Dating Adrian Hunter
“You’re… together?” Mom asks, verging on the edge of exploding with excitement.
Adrian’s hand slinks around my waist, pulling us together. “Appears that way.”
“This is the best news,” his mom says. Cece Hunter has always been gorgeous. Like mother, like son, I suppose. But now, she’s like an angel from this news, radiating light from every pore on her skin and strawberry blond hair. “I've been telling Adrian to fix things with you ever since his breakup with Isabelle.” She holds the side of her hand up to her mouth and whispers humorously, “Let’s be honest, I was telling him this even before they broke up. I’m so glad he finally listened.”
“I kept telling him the same thing,” Mom adds.
“It’s true,” Adrian tells me with a hint of annoyance. “Your mother rings me in London at least once a month.”
“What?” My nose puckers. “What do you two talk about?”
“You mostly,” he says. I can’t figure out if he’s joking.
Mom rubs a hand on my shoulders. “Listen, sweetheart, I’m sorry about that photo last night. You know, the one with the sign on your back. Your father added the photos to the slideshow in a rush. It was a last-minute thing. We should have checked all the photos more thoroughly.”
I feel like telling her it wasn’t just that one photo that was the problem.Allof them were embarrassing, but I let the issue slide, wanting to forget about last night.
“You two should have breakfast with us,” Mom says. “I need to soak up as much time with Verena as I can get during this week. And we can’t wait to hear how you two got together.”
“Actually,” Adrian says, “Verena and I need to take care of something first. How about we catch up later and fill you in on the details of our relationship?”
“We’ll be holding you to your word,” Cece tells him.
As soon as our moms walk off, Adrian’s hand finds mine and he leads me toward the exit. “What about my food,” I argue, digging my heels into the ground. “I’m malnourished.”
“We’ll order room service.”
“We? Nuh-uh. You are not stepping foot in my bungalow and contaminating it.”
“We’ll go back to mine, then.”
The two of us leave the buffet, only to bump into Phoebe. She’s a mirror image of her mom, except twenty-two years younger, and is suffering from the same glowing-angel syndrome. Phoebe’s eyes flit between her phone and us, hand in hand.
“It’s true?” she asks, reading a text. “Adrian and Verena are dating.” There’s no anger from her about the way I behaved last night. I should have expected this outcome; she’s always been the easygoing one between her and my sister. All the scolding will come from Tory.
I try to tear my hand from Adrian’s, but he holds on tight. “Word travels fast,” he answers his sister. “Who sent you that message?”
“Mom. Why didn’t you tell me?” She wraps Adrian and me in her arms, bouncing with joy. “I have always shipped you guys, even when you hated each other. You were destined to be together. You know, you shouldn’t be sleeping in separate bungalows. Adrian, I’ll have the concierge move your belongings in with Verena’s.”
Her words have me choking. “Ah… no, seriously, we don’t want to be a hassle.”
“Believe me, this is no hassle at all.”
ChapterEight
With a laugh, Adrian falls back onto my pristine bed, contaminating it as his arms spread wide like he’s making snow angels.
“Absolutely not.” I push his legs in an attempt to get him off my bed, but he doesn’t budge. “We are not sharing a bed.”
“Verena, couples share a bed.”
“No one is watching us this closely. You’re sleeping on the couch. Or better yet, outside. There are plenty of daybeds by my pool.”
“Ourpool.” He folds his hands behind his head, making himself comfortable. “And why don’tyousleep there, then?”
“Because this is my room.”
“Ourroom. If you want the bed, you’re going to have to earn it. I’m still waiting for mythank youfor saving your life.”
