I chuckle, smashing my cigarette into the ashtray. “You’re not a very nice made-up girlfriend.” She smiles at the ashtray, pleased with my choice to respect her hope for longevity.
“I know. I’m a total girl-dick. That’s why we work so well as a make-believe couple. We’re terrible people and putting us together pretty much makes us the devil.” Her eyes sparkle almost more than the snow outside and her lips part again. “I know this is going to sound inappropriate, random and stuff, but…you’re pretty hot.” Her comment comes as a surprise, and I smirk as the color rises up her cheeks. “I even made up a nickname for you.”
“A nickname, eh? Let me hear it.”
“Promise you won’t laugh?” she asks sounding a bit nervous.
“I’ll probably laugh.”
She wiggles her nose and bites her bottom lip, “Mr. Sexdorable.”
I laugh instantly. How could I not? “Sexdorable?”
“You know, ‘cause you’re sexy and adorable all at once.”
I relax into my seat and can’t stop laughing, “Guys don’t like being called adorable. Puppies are adorable, not grown men.”
“Even if it’s sexdorable?” she pouts, hoping I will agree to the name.
“Well…” I ponder the thought, rubbing my hand across my chin. “Since I’m getting paid one thousand dollars to act like your boyfriend, I think I’ll let the nickname slide for now.”
She laughs this time and I feel a knot in my gut. My gawd…I love the sound of her laugh, too. Almost more than those smiles.
“What about me? Do I get a nickname?” She slips her feet out of her wet boots. Her frame rotates toward me and she curls her body up in her seat, tucking her knees against her chest. If it were anyone else, I would cuss them out for having their feet on my BMW seats, but her socks have penguins on them, and that’s pretty damn cute.
“Sunshine.”
Her smile widens, her dimples deepen, and I think about holding her. This time the thought of having sex with her doesn’t even appear.
“Sunshine?” she questions, moving her hair behind her ears. “There’s this old guy at the nursing home where I volunteer and he calls me Sunshine.”
“He sounds like a smart guy,” I say and she giggles.
“He’s kind of an asshole, who’s snarky and rude. But I like him well enough. So tell me, why the nickname ‘Sunshine?’”
“Because even during some dark times in your life, when the clouds roll in, you still find a way to laugh, to shine.” She’s still again, but that’s perfect. I don’t want her to move. I know it might sound stupid, but if she never moved again and just kept smiling, I would be a happy man.
I pause, realizing my thoughts, and shake my head back and forth. Where the heck did that come from? First I want to bang her, and now I want to stare at her? All of her awkwardness is shifting into me and I need to pull it together.
Hell. This isn’t real. This isn’t real.
Think dirty thoughts again, Kayden. I want to bang my boss, I want to bang my boss, I want to hold her hand…
I glance over at her, feeling her body shift in her seat. “Oh…” she whispers, and I look down to see that her hand has somehow intertwined with mine. “Is this so it doesn’t appear awkward when we get to my parents?”
No, I just like holding your hand. “Yeah. You know, we want this to be believable.”
“Right. Well, Kayden, I gotta say…I almost feel as though you like me…and we’ve only known each other a few hours. You deserve a damn Oscar.” She bites that damn lip again, and I just about lose it. She’s a wacko, she’s funny, she’s exaggeratedly emotional, and she’s holding my hand.
And the last thing I want her to do is let go.
“You can’t go a little faster?” Jules complains, and I choose not to reply. We are a good two hours behind schedule, and with this timeline, we should be to her house a little after nine p.m. Jules’s head falls into her hands and she mutters against her palms, “There aren’t even that many cars on the road!”
“Don’t get bitchy,” I warn, not looking her way. “We’ll get there when we get there. What’s the big deal anyway?”
Her cell phone goes off for the fifth time in the past hour and she stares at it before holding the shining phone up to my face. “That’s the big deal. My mother’s a nut and won’t stop calling. I’ve texted her three times already telling her we were running behind. And now she’s calling nonstop.”
“Maybe that’s not why she’s calling. Just answer it. You’re acting like a little brat.”
She straightens up in her seat and gives me a look of death. “You cannot call me a brat!”