Page 44 of The Fun Part
I stand and put on my coat before he can help me with it. I’m getting caught up in this game, enjoying it too much. “Actually, I think I’m going to run for a bit, burn off some of these calories. I’ll be in touch, okay?”
“What’s wrong?”
I shake my head. “Nothing. Really. See ya!” I’m about to bolt when he grabs my arm. I look up at him.
“Mackenzie, what’s wrong?”
I try to smile but can’t manage it. How can I tell him I’m starting to fall for my own little game? He’s too good at it, making me believe he really cares for me. All these nice gestures, his sexy sweetness. He even looked like he was considering reading a romance. I don’t even read them. Do you know how many men read romance? One point three percent. I’m making that up, but it’s unusual, and I know he’s just being nice to Aunt Mad. Oh God. I have to get out of here!
“I missed my morning run,” I blurt. “Need the endorphins.”
“Sure?”
“Mmm-hmm.” I try not to bolt.
“Okay. See you for our next fake date.”
“Right. See ya.” I move as quickly as I dare without looking like I’m fleeing the scene. I’m not sure I can handle another fake date.
I fully own that I freaked out. I can’t handle seeing Cal so many times in a row without getting in too deep, so I didn’t plan another fake date for this weekend. I saw him last weekend twice, so that’s going to have to carry us for a couple of weeks. I need to slow this crazy ride down.
Instead I organized a girls’ night with my besties at a club in NYC to enjoy the singles scene. Fake dating by definition means that we’re both single. And I really need the change of scenery.
When the moment finally arrives, Harper and I are dressed to kill, hair and face on point. Harper’s wearing an off-the-shoulder red dress that ends mid-thigh with killer white boots. I’m in a classic little black dress with my metallic-red spiked heels. These heels scream fun.
We wait in line to be let into the club. Our names are on the list thanks to our friend Shayla. She’s filming a limited series in the city, and where she goes, her assistant, Olivia, goes. The four of us used to live together in the house where Harper and I live now. It was so much fun, except for the whole Shayla stalker situation. Long story, thankfully resolved.
We get the go-ahead from the bouncer and step past the velvet rope and inside. The thumping club music vibrates my eardrums. Harper grins at me, immediately pulling me through the crowded dance floor to the center of the action. Harper doesn’t need a drink to let loose.
“Now this is what I’m talking about!” she shouts over the music. “Much better than the Valentine’s dance, amiright?”
I nod even as Cal’s face flashes in my mind from the Valentine’s dance, those soulful eyes, our slow dance. The delicious heat. What’s he doing on a Saturday night?
I really need to stop thinking about Cal. I watch as Harper dances freely, arms in the air as she checks out the guys dancing nearby. That’s what I should be doing. I do my best to copy her, and eventually, I get into the music, dancing my heart out. Cardio is the best for emptying the mind.
Look at me enjoying the singles scene in the city that never sleeps!
Is it late? It feels late.
I lean close to Harper’s ear. “When’s Shayla getting here?” Shayla has a private room booked for us upstairs, but Harper doesn’t want to go there until after we meet some potential guys to bring with us. Of course I agreed because we’re both single, and there’s no reason not to meet guys.
Cal’s husky voice runs through my mind.Do you like this, Mackenzie?
No more Cal.
“When she gets here,” Harper says. “She’s bringing some friends. Hope it’s that hot guy from her new show.”
“Which one?”
“Right? There’s several potentials.”
“He won’t be sticking around if he’s only here to film something.”
Harper shrugs. See, there’s the Harper I know and love. I don’t know what all that tall, dark, and handsome stuff was before. Though she’s still watching those old black-and-white romantic comedies. I’ve watched a few too, only because they were on.
“Hey,” a masculine voice says behind me, making me jump.
I turn to find identical twin guys in their twenties—dark hair, one with scruff, the other clean-shaven, both handsome.Nope. Hints of our identical twin dads going on here.
