Page 6 of Ice Ice Maybe
“Nobody knows we’re eating the same thing, and the last thing we want is a boring date,” I explained. “Let’s give them something to talk about. Give me a bite. Now.”
“Pushy,” he said with a playful tsk-tsk. “I was warned that you always get what you want.”
“True,” I replied without hesitation, then quickly added, “But I’m not a spoiled rich girl, which I’m sure is what you’re thinking.”
Nolan nodded. “To be fair, it only crossed my mind about a hundred times on the way over here.”
His candidness was a breath of fresh air, and I couldn’t help but get a kick out of it. He might have some preconceived notions about me, but at least he was upfront about them. He would also learn the truth soon enough. Too often, people silently judged me because of my family’s wealth, their eyes filled with disapproval and resentment, as if I’d committed someterrible crime. This life chose me the day I was born, not the other way around. They assumed my only goal was to spend Dad’s money, never bothering to look beyond the surface or realize that kindness and compassion aren’t limited by bank account balances.
Nolan’s glances were different, there was no doubt about it. There was a mix of reluctance and intrigue in his eyes, like he didn’t want to be there, but was also curious about me and also interested to see how this would all play out.
“The things I do for fake love,” he said with a melodramatic sigh, then picked up his burrito and tilted it toward my mouth.
I smiled and leaned closer, but as I was about to take a bite, Nolan pulled it away. I raised an eyebrow, then moved in for another attempt. He yanked it back again with a sexy low laugh. Wow. He really committed to this fake date thing.
“Oh, you think that’s funny, do you?” I said, unable to suppress my giggles.
“As a matter of fact, I do,” Nolan said.
On the third try, I was ready. As he pulled away, I grabbed his wrist firmly, guiding the burrito to my mouth. I took an exaggerated bite, my eyes locked on his, while we both cracked up. Hopefully, the photographer got at least one good picture out of it.
“Was that so difficult?” I asked.
“Extremely,” Nolan said, eying my burrito. “Now, I have less burrito than you. Give me a bite of yours and we’ll call it even.”
I was pretty sure he was being serious. I shook my head in amusement, then reached for my burrito and held it in front of his mouth. Nolan took a bite that was three times the size of my bite of his.
“Hey!” I said, pulling my burrito back. “What was that?”
“Payback with interest, plus punitive damages,” he said as he chewed, then chased the food down with a sip of his horchata.
I giggled, thinking Nolan’s humor was unexpectedly charming, but then a strange feeling washed over me. It was hard to describe, but it almost felt like we were old friends catching up rather than two strangers thrust into a bizarre fake-dating scenario. First dates tended to be awkward and hesitant, but there was a natural rhythm to our interactions right out of the gate. This unexpected comfort both intrigued and unnerved me.
After eating in silence for a few minutes, I said, “Okay, you wanted to know about the rules.”
Nolan wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Please.”
“It’s simple,” I said. “There are none.”
He was staring at me again. “There have to be rules.”
I shook my head. “For this to appear as realistic as possible, we need spontaneity. Rules only create rigidity, limited expression, predictability, and, many times, artificial behavior. We want a natural rapport because that’s when the magic happens, the effortless state of two people just enjoying the present without over-analyzing things. That’s what it will take to make this look real.”
“I didn’t realize I was fake-dating a relationship guru.” Nolan leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms with an amused smirk. “Do you have a degree in pop psychology, or did you just binge-watch a season ofThe Bachelorlast night?”
I smirked. “Both.”
Nolan chuckled. “Things could get interesting real fast with no rules.”
“If we’re going to do this, there’s nothing wrong with having fun,” I said. “As long as you don’t break the law, of course. If you feel like doing something, do it.”
“Anything at all?” he asked incredulously.
“Yes!” I said. “What do you feel like doing right now that does not involve eating my entire burrito?”
Nolan eyed the door. “Fleeing across the border to Mexico and never coming back.”
I huffed. “I’m being serious.”
