Page 46 of Blush Crush

“I didn’t say he had to be random.”

“Well then who? Because this idea keeps getting worse.”

“Me.”

“You?” She laughs—a genuine, bubbling laugh that would sound adorable if it wasn’t entirely at my expense.

And there it is. The thing I already knew but managed to avoid looking at directly until right now. She finds the idea of me wanting her funny. Like it’s so far outside the realm of possibility it doesn’t even register as a real thing a person could actually want.

I’ve never wanted to be taken seriously by a woman more than I do right now. Which is new. And deeply inconvenient.

“First of all, no one would ever believe we were a real couple. And second, I find it hard to believe you’d be interested in pretending to date me just to help me make some guy jealous unless you were getting something out of it.”

For a moment, I consider lying. Instead, I shrug and aim for something closer to the truth. “Who says I wouldn’t be?”

“In this stupid hypothetical situation, what would you get out of it? Because I’m not sleeping with you.”

My mouth can’t help but twitch. I’ve gotten this soft, gentle girl so worked up and angry. She might flutter those big eyes at Wes, but I pull something out of her he never could. There’s a fire in this woman just waiting to burn at her feet.

“Hey, hey, hey.” I lift my hands defensively. “No one said anything about sex.”

“Free chocolate croissants then?”

God, she’s cute. “Well, that’s a given, doll. Your boyfriend should get all your goodies for free.”

She rolls her eyes, but the faintest of smiles ghosts her lips. I’m definitely pressing my luck.

“I haven’t agreed to anything. I’m just curious about what you think you’re going to get out of me.”

Racking my brain, I try to think of something that isn’t complete bullshit.

And for once, I want to thank my mother for her meddling. I wasn’t planning to appease her. It’s not like she can actually force me into a relationship, but it is the perfect excuse to convince Ariana I actually have a reason for all of this. And best of all, it’s true.

“A date.”

“A date? Isn’t that what?—”

“My ex is getting married at the winery and I can’t show up alone. My mom keeps hounding me, say it’s time for me to get serious with someone. She doesn’t want my date to just be some random woman, she wants someone who’s more than a fling. So I either get into a relationship soon or she’ll arrange something for me, which would be a nightmare.”

“Is this woman a real ex? I didn’t think you had any of those.”

A lot of people don’t get this side of her, but she can be a real smartass when she wants to be. And I kind of like I’m one of the few who knows. “Believe it or not, I actually have been in a real relationship before. My family loves her, my mom is practically begging me to marry her still. If I don’t find myself a girlfriend to come to this wedding with me, she’s going to start interviewing women to be my wife. And once she gets to that point, it’s all down hill from there.”

Her eyes lose some of their hardness but her stance remains rigid. “I appreciate the advice, but I’m going to have to pass. I just don’t think anyone would believe you would date someone like me, not to mention how messy it would be with our families. Seems like more trouble than it’s worth. Besides, I’msure whatever girl you’ve got on the roster would be more than willing to act as your girlfriend. I’ll take my chances with Wes, assuming he even tries to ask me out again after you scared him off.”

Someone like her? What the fuck does that mean?

I turn that over for a second, because I want to make sure I’m hearing it correctly. She’s not saying she doesn’t believe I’d want her. She’s saying no one else would believe it either. Like the problem isn’t my intentions—it’s her. Like she’s the variable in this equation that doesn’t add up.

I open my mouth to tell her she’s got it completely backwards. That the only unbelievable part of this scenario is that she hasn’t figured out yet what she’s worth.

But she’s already moving past it, already deciding for both of us.

And I let her. Because I’m a coward, and because if I say it out loud I’ll have to reckon with what it means.

She spins on her heels, leaving me in her back room with her scent swirling around me.

I really thought I’d be able to convince her. Though I’m not sure why. She’s never once looked at me the way she looks at him.