Page 12 of Lost in You (Flirting with Forever 1)

I suppose it’s a little late now to wonder again what I’ve gotten myself into, so here we go—me and my fake boyfriend—on a weekend-long road trip together.

Chapter 5

Madison

We spend the first five minutes mostly in silence. I keep trying to sneak peeks at Shawn, but every time I do, he notices, and a tiny little smirk lifts one corner of his mouth. My face feels hot, and I’m definitely sweating again. I can’t even blame it on the truck’s heater either. It’s all about my proximity to Shawn and those wicked little looks he keeps giving me.

After another couple of minutes, I motion to the radio. “Do you mind if I put on some music?”

He shakes his head. “Not at all.”

With a quick smile, I turn the radio on and flip through the stations until I find one that has some fairly new popular music on it. Before long, I’m humming along, unable to keep quiet. The next time I glance in Shawn’s direction he smiles big.

“I remember how much you love music. Go ahead and sing along if you want.”

Suddenly embarrassed, I bite my lip, the edges of my mouth curving into a smile. “Sorry.”

“No need to be sorry about it. I love your voice. I remember that for sure.”

I suck in a breath at the idea he’d paid any attention to me at all. “Okay … so, speaking of, tell me everything you remember about me. Maybe that’s where we start with this whole mess. We’ve got two hours to figure out how to act around each other and to prepare ourselves for questions people may ask.”

“Right.” He holds out his hand. “Give me your hand.”

My face screws up into a frown, and I look at him like he’s lost his mind because I think maybe he has. “What?”

“If you’re my girlfriend, I’m definitely holding your hand this weekend. And do you really want that face you just made to be the one you show to your family when I take your hand in mine at this place?”

I work my jaw. “You have a point.” I place my hand in his where it’s resting on the center console. It’s big and warm, his fingertips just a little rough—I assume from playing his guitar—and the overall sensation of having my hand in his just about knocks me over, so it’s a good thing I’m already sitting down.

He squeezes my hand gently and gives me a sheepish smile. “See? Not so bad. This is going to be easy.”

I draw in a stuttered breath. “Easy.”

He chuckles. “Anyway, that’s my first real memory of you—all the way back in high school when you sang in the choir. Do you still sing?”

I let the breath back out. “Um. In the shower? No, I’m kidding … but not. And I also sing a really wicked version of ‘Happy Birthday.’ That’s the extent of my singing these days.” I lift my shoulders and let them drop. “Oh, and along with the radio, but you already heard that.”

Laughter rumbles from deep in his stomach. “I don’t remember you being funny.”

I shrug and hold up my free hand. “I’m less uptight than I used to be, I guess.”

He squeezes my hand in his. “I didn’t mean you were uptight. You just used to be a little quieter and more reserved, even when I saw you just a few years back. And that image of you fit the librarian you were about to become.” He runs his thumb over the back of my hand, sending shivers through me. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like your sense of humor. Tell me about that job. I remember when you got it you seemed really happy about it.”

I’m trying really hard to make all the words he’s saying compute in my head, but the way his thumb lazily moves over the skin on the back of my hand is really damn distracting. I glance at his profile as he watches the road, and that turns out to be a bad idea, as now I’m wondering what it would feel like if I reached out and scratched my fingers through the stubble on his cheek. Oh my God, Madison, breathe. You can do this. It’s just small talk about work. Easy.

“I love to read, I love kids, and I love helping people, so it’s a good fit for me. Especially since my career as a backup singer for Beyoncé never took off, you know?” I send him a teasing grin, which he returns before I look out the side window. “It’s not exactly what I envisioned doing for the rest of my life, but I’m happy enough with it for now.” I look back over at him. “What about this financial advisor stuff? That doesn’t seem quite like you either.”

His hand grips the steering wheel a little more tightly than before. He side-eyes me before answering. “I did what I thought was sensible at the time. And …” he sucks in air through his teeth, “I admit it—I hate it. I’ve scaled way back with it and mostly just work at the bar now, with the exception of a few clients. It’s hard to think I wasted time and money going to school for a degree when I’m not going to use it.” He hesitates, glancing at me for a second. “It just hasn’t turned out to be what I want for myself.”

“Hey, you never know, maybe we’ll reinvent ourselves at some point. A new reincarnation of you and me.” I swallow hard. That kind of sounded like I’d meant you and me together.

He chuckles, “And would that make you a singing butterfly leaving the librarian cocoon?”

I wrinkle my nose. “Maybe. We’ll see. Unlike your financial advisor gig, I do actually enjoy working at the school, so I’d be okay just having something on the side to enjoy. Something that’s just for me.” My heart beats fast as Shawn looks at me, his gaze meeting mine. Oh, man. Why does it feel like he’s seeing my every thought playing out in my eyes? Deep breaths.

Relief pours through me when he focuses back on the road. “How about you tell me about this book club that you are in because it sounded like a whole lot of noise to me.” He shakes his head with a quick laugh. “Like it was all a clever, adult excuse for getting together for a little girl talk.”

“I plead the fifth.” Oh my God, how much had he heard? I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to remember everything we’d discussed, not realizing that our words were being overheard. I blame it on his margaritas.

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