《It All Started With A Lie》{14}
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"Aren't you supposed to head home?" I asked, smacking my hand over his face repeatedly, covering his eyes, his forehead, his lips, his nose.
He grabbed my hand, clicking his tongue in frustration, and smacked it away. "My parents went out to dinner, they-" I squished his cheeks together, laughing at the way he looked. He looked up at me, just waiting for me to stop. I stopped and waited for him to continue. "They went out cause it's their anniversary," he said.
"Tell them I said congratulations then," I smiled.
"They're asking who you are, you know," he said, closing his eyes.
"And what do you tell them? Except for the she-devil?" I chuckled.
"I haven't actually told them much yet, I normally dodge the questions, but I've been thinking..."
"About?" I asked.
"About..." he trailed off before grabbing my hand and guiding it to his hair. My eyebrows shot up in surprise but I ran my hand through his hair regardless since it's what he wanted. "Telling them that you're my girlfriend," he said.
"Don't do that, Ethan. Don't lie to your parents. I'm not actually your girlfriend, you know that," I spoke softly.
"What's the harm if they think you are?" he asked, still not opening his eyes.
"The harm is that you're lying to your parents. That's not right, don't do that. Just tell them... tell them I'm your friend and neighbor," I shrugged.
"They'll see right through the lie, especially my mom," he scoffed.
"Why? That's more true than it is a lie. It's less of a lie than telling them I'm your girlfriend would be," I replied.
"Yeah, but you're not my friend."
Ouch, okay.
"I'm not your girlfriend either," I responded.
"Yeah, but saying you are my girlfriend is closer to the truth. We're doing everything a couple does just without actually loving each other."
"Which is why I'm not actually your girlfriend. You can't tell them that."
"And if I do?" He opened his eyes, arching a brow at me.
I pulled my hand back and stared down at him, "Then I'll actually be really upset. I don't need you lying to your parents and your parent later thinking of you or me as a liar."
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"What are they gonna find out? I'll just tell them we broke up, it fizzled out if you will," he shrugged. We looked at each other for a minute. "Actually, that won't make sense," he said, staring at the ceiling once again.
"Why not?" I questioned.
"Because things would never just fizzle out between us. We have too much chemistry."
I snorted, I couldn't keep the laugh in. "We have chemistry?" I asked.
"We have sexual tension, Oliver, you can't deny it."
I narrowed my eyes at him, "Mm, I think I will deny it. We do not have sexual chemistry," I shook my head.
"You're telling me even when you hated me, you never thought I was hot or thought about what it would be like to kiss me or have sex with me," he turned to me with a taunting smirk.
"No," I answered, lying. I won't say about which one that is. Thinking he's hot, kissing him, or having sex with him. You'll never know...
"Liar," he chuckled, "Which one is it?"
"None," I shrugged, grabbing my phone only for him to toss it to the side.
"Which one? There's gotta be one," he smirked.
"If you can answer the same question first, then I'll answer yours," I retorted.
"Ask the question," he smirked.
"Before knowing me, when you hated me, or at least when you pretended to, what was it that you thought about? How I looked, how kissing me would be, or..." I trailed off.
"Or?" he chuckled.
"Or did you think about how I'd look on top?"
He shook his head, "None. I think about how you'd look under me," he smirked.
"Right," I said slowly, "I'm thinking of your parents coming home to see you gone," I nodded while getting out of bed and heading to the door, holding it open for him.
He clicked his tongue in frustration before sighing in defeat as he stood up, pulling his shoes on. "Do you have plans for tomorrow?" he asked while walking up to me.
"I don't know, depends," I shrugged, heading downstairs as he followed.
"On what?" he asked as I entered the kitchen and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge.
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"On why you're asking me that," I said, turning to him as I closed the fridge.
"I wanna take you out," he shrugged.
"Elaborate," I nodded.
"I wanna take you out, how do you elaborate on that?"
I narrowed my eyes at him, "You wanna take your girlfriend out?" I questioned.
"No, I want to take Olivia Carrington out," he replied.
"On?"
"A date," he nodded.
"If you're just fucking with me, you can stop," I said.
He rolled his eyes, "I'm not fucking with you. I wanna take you out on a date. We're fake dating, there's no harm in getting to know each other a little bit better. I bet if someone asks us certain questions, we won't be able to answer more than half of them," he explained. He's not wrong, we don't know all that much about each other.
"Okay, where are we going and what time?" I asked.
"I'll come get you at... let's say 4 o'clock and I'm not telling you where we're going, that's a surprise," he smirked. I stared at him while he leaned on his elbows which rested on the countertop.
"Why not?" I asked.
"Call it a surprise. Even though I have no idea whether you'll like it or not," he shrugged, pushing himself off the counter and heading over to me, walking around the counter.
"Ethan Miles Archer wants to surprise me?" I asked, slightly surprised as I turned to look at him.
"He sure does," he smiled, looking down at me, stepping real close.
"What are you doing?" I laughed, taking a step back, putting the water bottle down on the counter.
"What am I doing?" he chuckled, continuing to take steps forward.
"Ethan," I chortled, putting a hand on his chest. He pushed my hand off and continued until my back hit the fridge. "Ouch," I uttered. He grabbed my waist and pulled me to the other side so I was leaning against the counter. "Go home," I nodded.
"No," he said, shaking his head.
"Why not?" I asked, pulling myself up onto the counter.
"Just because," he shrugged.
"Great answer," I said sarcastically, grabbing my bottle.
"Don't you think we could work and improve the kissing?" he asked.
I arched an eyebrow at him, biting back a laugh. "Are you asking to kiss me, Miles?" I smirked.
"No, I'm asking you to become a better kisser," he deadpanned.
"You're such a prick," I laughed, shaking my head, "Go home!" I exclaimed, pushing him back.
He pushed my arms off and put his hands on my lower back, pulling me forward. "No," he grinned.
"Because you wanna practice kissing?" I asked incredulously. He nodded. "You just want a kiss, get a Hershey's kiss," I shrugged.
"You're not funny," he smiled, leaning in.
"Please, I'm hilarious," I said before he grabbed the back of my neck and pulled my lips down to his.
This isn't normal, Olivia.
I know that.
You're not actually his girlfriend.
I know that too.
And you're still kissing him for no apparent reason.
I know that as well.
Then make it fucking stop!
He's such a good kisser though.
I have to agree but stop. I can't. You can't or you don't want to?
I'd rather not answer that question. Both of us pulled away at the same time. I cleared my throat, hopping off the counter when he took a step back. "Did I just kiss you and you didn't freak out?" he asked, chuckling softly.
"I should have freaked out," I mumbled, "I am most certainly freaking out right now," I coughed, tucking my hair behind my ear. "Right, you um... I... I'll see you tomorrow," I said, starting to head back to my room.
He sighed, grabbing my wrist and yanking me back. "We're supposed to be kissing in front of people, does it really matter if we do it in front of people or alone? Call it um... practice?" he explained, but it came out more like a question.
"Practice?" I asked. He is unbelievable. "Ethan, this isn't a game."
"Well, it's one of the least realistic situations possible, Olivia. Who gets a fake boyfriend? Who has a whole fake relationship? Nobody," he shrugged.
"What does that have to do with what I just said?" I frowned in confusion.
"All I'm saying is that you can't expect me to spend every hour of every day with you, act like I'm in love with you, and expect me to not want to kiss you."
"You-"
"I can't do that."
"But-"
"You're pretty, okay? And you're playing girlfriend. I can't not want to kiss someone who I'm calling my girlfriend. I can't not be attracted to my so-called girlfriend."
.
.
.
.
.
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