playing with my hair and I wasn’t sure I could complete my thoughts.
“Because you have been anything but interested since the first day of class. You take every chance you get to remind me we are group partners.”
“And we are. You are my Comm 224 partner. But I’m not the one who came up with the idea to disprove the show. We can’t very well disprove it, if we are proving it, can we?”
The giddiness I had earlier in the night bubbled through my heart like the champagne. “Are we?” I was nervous to ask. This question had been plaguing me since he rolled out of my driveway the other night and every time he looked at me. “Are we proving it?”
“You tell me.” He leaned toward me again, this time pulling me on top of him so that my legs straddled his waist.
I wanted to give in to the impulses raging through my body. “Ok. Stop. Stop.” I inhaled. “This will ruin the entire project. The whole month of blogging we’ve done is a waste. We’ve messed up everything. Oh my God. Oh my God.” I dismounted Beau and paced through the maze of candles. “I’m not going to graduate. I’m going to fail Communication 224. My parents won’t let me move to L.A. and I’m going to end up in the family business after all.”
“Whoa. No one is failing anything.” He stood to face me and grabbed both my shoulders. “Who says we have to tell anyone?”
“What? You think we should act like this didn’t happen?”
I was crushed again. He wanted to pretend as if we never kissed or that his hands weren’t all over me on a blanket surrounded by rose petals. I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to forget this night, but maybe he was right. We should reestablish our partnership.
“No. What I’m saying is we keep blogging as if we were. We tell everyone that the show is still a phony and the dates are not bringing us closer together. We go on the fake dates, but they don’t have to be so fake anymore. It stays between us.” I was beginning to like the devilish expression in Beau’s eyes.
“But isn’t that lying? The entire experiment is rigged if we do that.” I couldn’t deny I liked the prospect of going on a real date with Beau, but I wasn’t totally comfortable with lying to the whole school or to Professor Garcia.
“You said it yourself. If we come clean now, the whole month’s worth of work we’ve done was for nothing. If we admit that our hypothesis was wrong, what kind of project do we have to present? It doesn’t test or challenge anything about the show. Why can’t we keep this between us? Unless you want to go back to being just partners—nothing more. We can do that too. It’s your decision, London. I’m not going to force you to do something you don’t want to do.”
Something in the way he handed me the power to decide made it easy to choose. I walked over to him and let my hands explore the hardness of his chest before wrapping them around his neck.
“You mean, we don’t tell anyone I just did that?”
He nodded while leaning down to nibble on my ear. “And definitely don’t tell them I did that.”
I laughed. “Ok. Deal. We keep the fake dating going.”
“Awesome. This project just got a whole lot better.” Beau growled into my neck. “Now, let’s get out of here before my friend finds out we almost burned down the planetarium.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Tell me what you think about this.” Beau cleared his throat and read from the screen on his open laptop.
“Valentine’s Night: Re-creation of Victoria and Seth’s candlelit barn date in Barcelona
Show Myth to debunk: Lavish romantic settings will forge romantic feelings
Love Match wants you to believe that by giving girls roses, filling them with champagne, and lighting everything within two feet with a candle, she’s going to fall for you. Guys, it’s just not true. Take Saturday night. There were more roses than I could
“Because you have been anything but interested since the first day of class. You take every chance you get to remind me we are group partners.”
“And we are. You are my Comm 224 partner. But I’m not the one who came up with the idea to disprove the show. We can’t very well disprove it, if we are proving it, can we?”
The giddiness I had earlier in the night bubbled through my heart like the champagne. “Are we?” I was nervous to ask. This question had been plaguing me since he rolled out of my driveway the other night and every time he looked at me. “Are we proving it?”
“You tell me.” He leaned toward me again, this time pulling me on top of him so that my legs straddled his waist.
I wanted to give in to the impulses raging through my body. “Ok. Stop. Stop.” I inhaled. “This will ruin the entire project. The whole month of blogging we’ve done is a waste. We’ve messed up everything. Oh my God. Oh my God.” I dismounted Beau and paced through the maze of candles. “I’m not going to graduate. I’m going to fail Communication 224. My parents won’t let me move to L.A. and I’m going to end up in the family business after all.”
“Whoa. No one is failing anything.” He stood to face me and grabbed both my shoulders. “Who says we have to tell anyone?”
“What? You think we should act like this didn’t happen?”
I was crushed again. He wanted to pretend as if we never kissed or that his hands weren’t all over me on a blanket surrounded by rose petals. I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to forget this night, but maybe he was right. We should reestablish our partnership.
“No. What I’m saying is we keep blogging as if we were. We tell everyone that the show is still a phony and the dates are not bringing us closer together. We go on the fake dates, but they don’t have to be so fake anymore. It stays between us.” I was beginning to like the devilish expression in Beau’s eyes.
“But isn’t that lying? The entire experiment is rigged if we do that.” I couldn’t deny I liked the prospect of going on a real date with Beau, but I wasn’t totally comfortable with lying to the whole school or to Professor Garcia.
“You said it yourself. If we come clean now, the whole month’s worth of work we’ve done was for nothing. If we admit that our hypothesis was wrong, what kind of project do we have to present? It doesn’t test or challenge anything about the show. Why can’t we keep this between us? Unless you want to go back to being just partners—nothing more. We can do that too. It’s your decision, London. I’m not going to force you to do something you don’t want to do.”
Something in the way he handed me the power to decide made it easy to choose. I walked over to him and let my hands explore the hardness of his chest before wrapping them around his neck.
“You mean, we don’t tell anyone I just did that?”
He nodded while leaning down to nibble on my ear. “And definitely don’t tell them I did that.”
I laughed. “Ok. Deal. We keep the fake dating going.”
“Awesome. This project just got a whole lot better.” Beau growled into my neck. “Now, let’s get out of here before my friend finds out we almost burned down the planetarium.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Tell me what you think about this.” Beau cleared his throat and read from the screen on his open laptop.
“Valentine’s Night: Re-creation of Victoria and Seth’s candlelit barn date in Barcelona
Show Myth to debunk: Lavish romantic settings will forge romantic feelings
Love Match wants you to believe that by giving girls roses, filling them with champagne, and lighting everything within two feet with a candle, she’s going to fall for you. Guys, it’s just not true. Take Saturday night. There were more roses than I could
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