Page 22 of The List of Things

“Something newer… I don’t know, at first, when I had no idea what you drove, I expected you to drive a sports car. Or like a fast car. A Mustang or something. Tesla. I don’t know,” I shrug again, the words feeling stupid as I say them.

He fits the Jeep, but damn would he look good in a Tesla or a muscle car.

“Doesn’t your ex drive a Mustang?”

Did he just make me want to throw up already? Not even ten minutes into our first date ever?

“You know normally people you’re dating don’t mention your ex.”

“Well, good thing we’re fake dating, so I can.”

I can tell Bellamy finds himself incredibly amusing right now considering the smirk plastered on his face. Though it looks good on him, it annoys me to my core.

“Yes, he did drive a Mustang,” I don’t want to tell him, but considering Bellamy’s track record.

I don’t think he’ll let it go until I confirm.

“Yeah, I don’t need a car to compensate...”

My jaw drops. He laughs, and I watch him carefully, my eyes focused on his face.

He’s got pretty skin, smooth, and even. His lips are pink, and curve around his pearly white teeth perfectly when he smiles or laughs. The second he reveals his smile, he reveals a mark carved deep into his cheek. A deep dimple that softens every feature of his. Bellamy doesn’t have hard stern features. He’s got intimidating features. Because there’s not a single flaw in the way he looks.

There’s light stubble on his structured jaw, not patchy, or uneven. He has light eyes that focus on the road, only looking elsewhere occasionally, just like he’s doing right now, looking at me. Bellamy looks perfect, and the way he looks at me might be more perfect than that. I look away, noticing the way he’s gripping the steering wheel with both hands.

“Why are you gripping the steering wheel for dear life? Should I be scared?” I ask him.

“No, sorry,” He apologizes for nothing, and moves one of his hands, resting it on the gear shift.

I look at his muscular hands, ring clad, wrapped around the wheel instead of around my throat, and I-

“I think I’m nervous,” He announces, and I’m glad he stopped my completely inappropriate thoughts.

They were out of hand...No pun intended.

“Why would you be nervous?” I ask him.

“I’m taking a pretty girl on a date,” He tells me, and I smile at the smooth compliment.

The word pretty is so superficial, but it sounds like butter when it comes from Bellamy Archer, and I don’t think there’s any way I could explain why.

“Oh, that. Well, you’ve taken plenty of pretty girls out, and if you get too nervous remember there’s no pressure... Considering it’s all fake,” I alleviate the small bit of tension once again, reminding him and myself of this arrangement.

“You’re right...”

Both of us start to relax. I feel far more comfortable knowing he was nervous. I don’t know why that sends ease over me but it does. I guess it shows me that he’s taking this seriously. My feelings somehow always feel validated if someone feels the same way I am.

“So this list… I’ve read over it a few times. I know you like romance movies. Where were some of the ideas from? What movies inspired it?” Bellamy asks me, and part of me is scrapping to remember what items I put on the list, but part of me doesn’t want to remember so I don’t have to tell him.

“I don’t remember,” I shrug, and he sits up, taking the list out of his pocket.

“Now you do,” He smirks, his eyes dancing between me and the road.

I roll my eyes, and snatch the list from his fingertips, contemplating letting the list fly out the window and pretending it was an accident. Knowing Bellamy and how persistent he is, he’d probably turn around and walk the freeway until he found the list, even if it did risk his life.

“Which ones do you want to know?” I ask, looking over my doodles, and scribbled handwriting.

“Kissing in the rain?” He asks.

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