One Week Girlfriend - By Monica Murphy Page 0,27

Not phony 'oh, let's hang all over each other' time either.

"Yes," I finally say in answer to his question because I don't know what else to do. We need to face reality and that crowd waiting for us inside.

He squeezes my shoulder and we walk in together, trailing behind his parents, earning a hard glare from Adele as we pass through the open double doors.

This night is going to feel like an eternity. It already does.
Chapter Seven
Day 2, 9:38 p.m.

I've never dropped anyone I believed in. - Marilyn Monroe

Drew

We sit next to each other at the round table surrounded by a crush of people, the noise from their constant chatter deafening. We say nothing to each other throughout the entire meal, for at least an hour, if not longer. I know it's stupid, but she makes me nervous and I want to get this just right.

It's like I can't find words. What can I say to follow up that kiss in the backseat of my dad's car? I don't want to cheapen the moment. It's like I sit here and I'm wallowing in it still. Thinking like a chick, relieving the moment over and over again in my mind.

How she responded to me, the little sounds of pleasure she made in the back of her throat. The feel of her warm, velvety tongue as it slid against mine, her hands in my hair. I can't remember the last time I was kissed like that. Have I ever been kissed like that? Hell, I really don't think so.

The realization stops me cold.

We may not speak, but I'm extremely aware of her. The sound of her soft breathing, her sweet scent that makes my mouth water. The heat of her skin, the way her bare shoulder brushes against my arm when she reaches for her glass of water. I wonder if she's touching me on purpose.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watch her drink. Her full lips curve around the glass, the delicate line of her throat and its movement as she swallows. The impulse to kiss all that exposed skin is so strong I clench my hands into fists and rest them on my thighs. Willing myself to stop thinking like an idiot.

Doesn't work. I can't stop thinking about her. How she felt in my arms, the taste of her still on my lips. I don't ever fucking think like this ever. I stuffed all useless emotion down deep inside me a long time ago and I've refused to let it back out. It's pointless. I'm like a robot most of the time. Going through the motions, getting through life one day at a time.

But this girl...she doesn't feel pointless. She's real and she's beautiful and she fits perfectly when she's in my arms. She makes me want to feel.

So dangerous to think like this. I don't mean anything to her. I'm a means to an end. A job with a paycheck. I did this to myself and now I regret it.

I scowl and slug back the beer I got from the bar earlier. It's my second one and if I have to endure this for much longer, I'm grabbing another soon. I'm pissed that my plan to parade around a fake girlfriend has gone straight to hell and I have no idea how to stop this train wreck called my emotions. I'm not even sure if I want to stop this.

That's the stupidest thing of all. How much I want to torture myself. But if it feels good being with her, why would I want to stop?

You've done other things that felt real good, but you knew you should stop.

I hate that voice inside my head. It reminds me of all my faults. All the bad shit I've done. I'm not a good person and I know it. I don't need the constant reminders.

"Drew, there you are!" Damn it, it's Kaylie and she's got two friends trailing behind her. All girls I went to school with, and all of them perfectly dressed and done up so they look like identical plastic Barbie dolls. It's hard to tell them apart. "We've been looking all over for you. You remember Abby and Ella, right?"

"Yeah. Hey." I flick my chin in greeting and they all simultaneously flutter their eyelashes at me in response, giggling as they watch me. It's completely unnerving and I wish they'd leave.

Beside me, I hear a quiet snort emanate from Fable, which makes me smile.