"Wait a second," Charlotte said suddenly.

"Did you say he's the only

guy you had a crush on? Like ever?"
I shrugged. "Besides famous musicians and fictional crushes, yes.
Why?"
"What about the other Sam?"
"What other Sam?"
She crossed her arms. "You told me there was a different Sam. When I
asked about your crush, you said it wasn't your friend Sam but someone
else. They just happened to have the same name."
I shook my head. "Still can't believe you bought that one."
"Scarlett!"
"What?"
"I can't believe you lied to me."
"Is it really lying though…if it's so obvious you should've known it was
a lie?"
She scoffed, but a small smile played on her lips. "So, just to be clear,
there were never two Sam's?"
Piercing blue eyes flashed through my mind, and I couldn't hold back a
smile.
"There's only one Sam Bishop," I said.
"Oh, Scar."
When I looked at her, Charlotte was giving me this look, half-concern,
half-pity.
"You still like him. Don't you?"
"What? No, I got over that a long time ago. You know how I feel about
guys and romance, in general. They're just—"
"—a distraction," she finished. "And yet, you smiled when you thought
about your 'fake' boyfriend."
"Must've been a twitch," I said.
She kept staring at me.
"We have a deal, Lotte. It's all about my list and his ex. The
relationship is pretend. Period."
"Hmmm."
I wasn't sure I wanted to know what that sound meant, so I didn't ask.
"And you said you're meeting him later?" she asked.
 "Yeah, in about"—I checked my watch and felt a thrill roll through me
—"twenty minutes."
"For kissing lessons."
I tried to stay cool, but it was hard. Warmth and sparks filled my heart
like fireworks. Inside, I was lit up like the Fourth of July.
"It's no big deal," I said.
"And whose idea were the lessons again?" she asked innocently.
"Don't go there, Lotte."
"I'm just saying, maybe you're not the only with a crush."
I dismissed that idea immediately. "He wants Brisa. That's why he
agreed to this in the first place."
My sister met my gaze head on. "And what do you want?"
With a forced laugh, I slid from the booth, and she stood as well.
Hugging my sister was something I'd never get tired of. I was used to
seeing her every day of my life. So, her being in college, no matter how
close it was distance-wise, and me being home, it was an odd feeling.
Knowing I couldn’t see her every day.
"I miss you," I said into her neck, "even when you're hitting me with the
hard questions."
Charlotte laughed and pulled back to look at me. "I miss you and your
sarcasm."
"My texts aren't sarcastic enough?" I asked.
"Not the same thing."
"I'll work on it. Where are you headed after this?"
She shrugged. "The library. I want to say hi to everyone and make sure
the books are okay. Thought I might do some reading while I'm there too."
Of course.
"Better go," she said. "You wouldn't want to be late for your lessons."
I ignored her knowing tone and the smile she wore as I walked away.
"Hey, Scar," she said.
"Hmmm?" I asked, looking back over my shoulder.
"I know you say it's all pretend, and maybe it is." Charlotte shrugged.
"But if you do still have feelings for him, don't give up on your Sam just
yet. Remember, sometimes, fake love turns real." Her cheeks went pink as
a smile brightened her face. "Trust me, Bo and I would know."
As I got into my car, I thought about what she'd said.
 My sister would know. Her relationship with Bo wasn't exactly
conventional—or at least, it didn't start that way.
But there was one main difference.
Bo and my sister were destined.
They were each other's person, even if they didn't know it yet.
I wasn't sure I had one of those.
And Sam had already found his.
Oh well, I thought as I drove and turned up my latest romance
audiobook. At least my sister got her happily-ever-after. I'd settle for
kissing lessons and a fake romance where my heart was in no danger of
being broken.

"You're early," Sam said when I walked into the garage.

My steps didn't falter. "I like being on time," I said.
He cocked his head and sent me a grin. "Thought you might be excited
about the lessons."
"Someone has an inflated ego."
"Nah, my ego's just the right size."
I turned my laugh into a cough then gestured to the garage. "I was kind
of surprised you wanted to do this here. Is there some place we can…well,
you know?"
"Kiss?" he put in.
I nodded.
"Yeah, there's a supply closet around back that's hardly ever used."
My heart stuttered at the thought of being alone with Sam in such close
proximity, but I didn't let my nerves show.
"Or we could always try my car." Sam shot me a grin. "Some girls
have a thing for muscle cars."
"Not me," I said. Although if I was being honest, the idea of making out
with Sam in his Mustang or anywhere really, was quite appealing. Not that
I was dumb enough to tell him that. Instead, I added, "I like motorcycles."
He grunted.
"Or I think I do. I have to ride one to find out for sure."
 "I saw that on your list," Sam said. "Tell me, Kent, is it the high fatality
rate or the bugs possibly hitting your face that turns you on?
I winced. "I definitely don't like bugs, and I plan on wearing a helmet
as well as going the speed limit. Also, don't hate, Bishop. Just because I
want to try something you don't approve of doesn't make it any less valid."
"Doesn't make it any safer either," he muttered.
"I'll be careful."
"Promise?"
I laughed at that, but his face was totally serious. "Yeah, okay. Jeez, I
promise."
"Good," he said, wiping his forehead on a cloth. "You had me worried
there for a second. Motorcycles are dangerous. You know, I had a friend
who—"
I was too distracted to do much more than nod. His words became
muddled background noise as I continued to take him in. Sam wasn't
wearing anything unusual. It was just a white t-shirt with dark wash jeans.
The shirt had a few oil stains on it. But man, he made them look good.
"What would I do if anything happened to you?" he finished.
"Huh?" I said.
Sam caught my gaze, and his lips tugged up in a grin. "You're staring,
Starlet."
Was I?
Absolutely.
Would I admit it?
No way.
"You have a stain"—I gestured to my own chest—"just there. I was
wondering if you're going to wear that or change…that is if we ever
actually start the lesson."
"You sound pretty eager," he said.
"Whatever," I scoffed and turned to leave.
"Sorry." Sam placed a hand on my arm, and as a jolt of electricity shot
through my veins, I struggled not to react. "It's just so fun teasing you."
"Fun for you," I replied.
"Come on, Kent. You like teasing me too. It's one of the reasons we get
along so well."
 As his hand traveled down to meet mine and squeezed, I mumbled, "So,
there are multiple reasons? Who knew?"
Sam laughed softly, giving my hand a slight tug as he stepped forward.
His fingers entangled with mine like it was the most natural thing in the
world. "While we're here, I thought we could check off another item on
your list."
I stared from our joined hands back to his eyes. "But we already
completed this week's itinerary."
The first time he took my hand at school, my breath caught. Not going
to lie, I trembled a little too. But Sam didn't miss a beat. He didn't seem
affected, just gave me that cocky grin and walked with me, side-by-side,
holding hands like we'd done it forever. Our palms had kissed more times
this week than we had. They were doing it again now.
I didn't know I could feel so much.
A light electric current hummed under my skin. The pleasant warmth
spread from where we were connected to the rest of my body, making me
feel light as air. I finally understood. All those songs about wanting to hold
your hand? Yeah, they were right.
Because this. Was. Lovely.
I was almost disappointed when Sam released my hand and gestured to
a beat up sedan in front of us.
"This is it," he said.
I blinked. "What do you mean?"
"I'm going to teach you how to change a tire, #17 on your list."
I shook my head as a smile touched my lips. "You don't have to do
that," I said.
"But I want to," Sam replied. "It'll make me happy, knowing you're
safe."
Oh my heart.
I felt those words tattooing themselves on my soul as surely as if he'd
written them there.
Why did he have to say things like that? It made it so much harder to
remember this was all pretend.
He sounded so sincere and had this expectant look on his face. I didn't
have it in me to tell him. The truth was I'd already gotten my dad to walk
me through this a couple days ago. But so what? Maybe Sam had some
tips to make the job easier.
"Thanks, Bishop," I said.
"Are you surprised?"
"Yeah. Honestly, I figured you'd lured me here to ravish me. But I see
now the lessons were just an excuse. "
I tried my best to hide the disappointment in my voice. Wasn't sure I
succeeded.
"No, we're going to do those too," Sam said.
"We are?"
"Like I said, you've only had one kiss, and we need to make Scam
believable. So the kissing lessons will be happening."
Sam threw me a smile.
"Ready to get dirty?" he asked.
"What?!?"
Sam laughed quietly. "I meant the tire, Kent."
"I knew that."
"Did you?"
"Less talking, more teaching, Bishop."

Okay, I had to admit.

I never knew changing a tire could be romantic.
Or so hot.
Watching Sam work with tools was something else. I couldn't take my
eyes off him as he gripped the wrench, demonstrating how to loosen a lug
nut. Or when he lifted his hand to wipe the sweat from his brow. Or when
he looked at me expectantly.
"Now, you try," he said.
I nodded. "Okay."
As he passed me the wrench, our fingertips brushed.
It was the lightest of touches. Completely unintentional. A few
seconds, and it was over.
But that didn't matter.
 I felt the sweep of his fingers long after we separated. Shaking it off, I
tried to focus. Sam had started on one lug nut, and I placed the wrench over
the next. But when I went to turn it, the thing wouldn't budge. I gritted my
teeth and moved forward to get more leverage. It didn't matter.
The sucker just would not move.
"Problem?" Sam asked.
"No," I muttered, "it's just stuck. I've got it."
"You sure, Kent? Your face is turning red."
"That's because it's hot in here."
And because he'd suddenly moved closer, leaving only a few inches
between us.
"I'm good," I repeated.
As Sam looked over my shoulder, I could feel his breath hitting my
neck. "The tires on these older models can be tough. If it's rusted, you
might be too small to get it."
I scoffed. "Have you seen my thighs?"
"Yeah," he said, voice sounding rougher for some reason. "I've seen
them."
"Then you know I'm not small, Bishop."
He laughed quietly.
Getting frustrated with the dumb nut that wouldn't turn, I gave up and
whipped around to face him. Unfortunately, this put us in even closer
proximity. His blue eyes blazed with amusement. "What are you laughing
at?" I asked.
"You," he said.
"Why? Because I can't do something you made look so easy?"
"No." Sam held my gaze. "I'm laughing because you're too stubborn to
ask for help."
He leaned forward even as I stuttered a protest.
"And because you're right. Your thighs aren't small. They're perfect."
"I…what did you just say?"
Sam sighed and wrapped his arms around me from behind, placing his
hands over mine on the wrench. "You heard me, Kent. Now, work with
me, and let's change this tire. Like you said, it's hot."
Yeah, because you keep breathing on my neck, and you're wrapped
around me like a freaking blanket.
 Sam barked a laugh, and I realized I'd said it out loud.
Oh well, I blamed the heat.
"Push down on three," he said.
"Okay," I said softly.
We managed to get the lug nut loose, and I exhaled.
"Nice job, Kent," Sam said into my ear. "I'll stop breathing down your
neck now."
"I don't mind," I said.
I was half-hoping he'd stay close, but Sam laughed it off and stepped
back. It didn't take long after that. He gave me pointers as I removed the
old tire and replaced it with the spare. By the time it was done, we were
both smiling.
"You can definitely check that off," Sam said.
I already had, but I said, "Yeah. Thank you, Bishop."
He nodded then cocked a brow. "So…lessons?"
With a swallow, I said, "Sure."
Sam started to say something else, but at that moment, the twins joined
us.
"Dad says you have to take me to Scouts," Bennet said to his brother.
"And me to my dance lesson," Betty put in.
Sam cocked a brow. "What about Mom?"
"She's busy. A couple needed an emergency private lesson for a
wedding dance or something." Betty crossed her arms. "And are you
saying you don't like taking me? Because that would make me really sad,
big brother."
"I'd love to go, but I have plans."
He gestured to me, and the twins both smiled.
"Oh hi, Scarlett," Betty said.
"Hey, Betty." I nodded to her twin. "Bennet. How's it going?"
"Fine," Bennet replied. "I had to take three tests today."
Betty nodded. "It's hard being 10."
I bit back a smile at that. She sounded so serious.
"Why are you here?" she asked.
"Just learning how to change a tire," I said. "Your brother's a good
teacher."
"Eh, he's alright."
 Bennet tilted his head. "What plans do you guys have?"
"Excuse me?"
"Sam said he has plans. What are you guys doing?"
I stuttered, trying to come up with anything but "we're about to start our
kissing lessons," while Sam just looked on, amused as he watched me
struggle.
Betty's eyes narrowed. "If he's making you do something you don't
want to, Scarlett, just say so. I'll go tell my dad, and he'll make Sam stop."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, sis," Sam said.
"I don't know what that means, but you're welcome."
Bennet raised his hand. "We're doing important stuff in Scouts today, so
I really need to be there."
"And I can't miss dance or my technique will get sloppy. You wouldn't
want that. Would you?" She added, "Scarlett should come with us."
"Yeah, let's go, or we'll be late."
Sam looked to me then with a question in his eyes. "You up for some
running around?"
With three pairs of those ocean eyes on me, I couldn't have said no even
if I wanted to.
And I didn't want to.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 10

Top 5 Ways to Ruin a Fake Relationship

1. Deviate from the plan.
2. Watch your fake boyfriend being the best brother on the planet to his
younger siblings.
3. Catch feelings.
4. Forget it's all pretend.
5. Fall head-over-heels (even though you know you shouldn't).

Did I do all of the above?

Yep. But to be honest, there was no way I could avoid it after tagging
along with Sam and the twins. That was my big mistake. I mean, anyone
would've caught feelings.
As we dropped off Bennet for his Boy Scouts meeting, Sam met him in
front of the car. The windows were down, so I clearly heard their
conversation.
"You got everything you need?" Sam asked.
"Yeah," Bennet said. "Are you and Scarlett coming back?"
"Sure, after we take Betty to dance, we'll all be here to pick you up."
His little brother smiled. "Awesome."
"You didn't think I'd leave you. Did you?" Sam asked.
"No, but I'm getting a new badge today."
"Really? Congratulations, B."
He shrugged. "They're presenting them at the end of the meeting."
"Did Mom and Dad know about this?" Sam asked.
"I didn't tell them. I know how busy it can get, running two businesses.
And it's not like this is a full court ceremony or anything."
"Still, I bet they'd want to know."
He grinned. "You think so?"
"Absolutely." Sam nodded. "Mom and Dad love you. They want to be
a part of all your achievements. You know that, Bennet."
"I'll show them my badge later."
 "You do that." As Bennet went to turn away, Sam said, "Hey, wait."
I watched as Sam reached forward to straighten his little brother's vest,
and something inside my chest melted.
"There. You're all set."
And that wasn't the only heart-melting scene.
We took Betty to her dance lesson next, and it was like stepping into
another world. The women in the lobby all fawned over Sam like he was a
rockstar or something. Betty rolled her eyes at their antics, but I found the
whole thing entertaining.
"Is it always like this?" I asked her.
"Yeah," she said with a sigh. "Sometimes, it's worse. My brother
basically has his own fan club."
"Oh really?"
"He gets asked out at least once every lesson. All of them have
daughters or granddaughters."
Sam was blushing while he unentangled himself from the crowd. As he
made his way over to us, there was an adorable look of embarrassment on
his face.
"You okay, Bets?" he asked.
She smiled. "Are you okay?"
Before he could answer, a woman who I assumed was Betty's teacher
came out. She took one look at Betty and tsked. "Miss Bishop, get that
hair up and out of your face, please. And before you argue," she said,
cutting off the girl's protests, "we've been over this. It's part of the dress
code."
"But—"
"Hair up. Now."
At that, she left, and Sam stepped forward. "It's okay, Bets. I'll do your
hair."
Betty gave him a pained look. "I love you, Sam. You know that, right?"
"Yeah…"
"But you're terrible at hair."
"I'm not that bad," he said.
"You kind of are."
When he went to argue, she held up a hand.
 "Plus, I have wild hair like Mom. You know it never wants to stay put.
I told Miss Arnold that, but she doesn't believe me."
"I'll do it," I said, coming over and taking a brush, hair ties, and some
bobby pins out of my purse. "My sister and I used to do each other's hair all
the time."
"You did?" Betty said.
I nodded. "My dad couldn’t braid to save his life. And ponytails? Yeah
right, he had us looking like unicorns with all the bumps."
Betty's giggle had me smiling.
"What about your mom?" she asked. "Couldn't she fix it?"
The words were innocent enough, but they made my chest tighten.
"She wasn't around," I said with a shrug.
"Oh, sorry."
"It's okay. My mom left when me and my sister were young. It was a
long time ago." Betty's face was filled with sympathy. I could feel Sam's
eyes on me as well, but I refused to look at him. "So, ponytail, braid, or
bun?"
In under two minutes, Betty's hair was up, pinned in place, and ready to
go.
"Thanks, Scarlett," she said.
"No problem," I replied.
"Don't forget your water," Sam said, handing her a bottle.
"Love you, Sam," she said. "Even if you can't do hair."
"Love you, Bets. We'll be here when you get out." As she waved and
left, he turned to me and added, "Seriously, thanks, Kent. You saved the
day."
"It was nothing," I said.
Sam shook his head. "If you saw how bad I am at doing hair, you
wouldn't be saying that."
I shrugged. "I like helping out."
He guided me over to the waiting chairs and said quietly, "That's good
because I could use your help."
I raised a brow in question.
"I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend."
"I thought we were already doing that," I said with a laugh.
 My mouth shut a second later as he slipped an arm around my
shoulders. "Look around, Kent."
As I did, I realized we had an audience.
Every person in the place—moms of the dancers, I was assuming—was
staring at us. Well, some were pretending not to stare and doing a pretty
poor job of it. But others were outright gawking.
"Why is everyone looking at us?" I whispered.
"Because they've never seen me in here with a girl before," he said back.
"Really? Never?"
My disbelief must've bled through because he frowned. "That so hard
to believe?"
"Well, yeah," I said honestly. "You're popular and—"
"Stunning, I know," he said.
But I just shook my head. "What about Brisa?"
"What about her?" Sam gave a small shrug. "She didn't go with me to
any of the twins' activities. Come to think of it, she, Betty, and Bennet
never really hit it off."
"Why not?" I asked. "They're such awesome kids."
He grinned. "Maybe she didn't like having to share me."
My scoff turned into a gasp as he pressed his nose against the side of my
neck.
"Are you up for pretending?" he said quietly. "To let them know I'm
taken."
"You could just tell them you have a girlfriend," I said shakily.
Sam's lips were still so close. As he spoke, I felt every word feather
against the side of my neck. It was the sweetest kind of torture.
"I could," he said. "But this way is more fun."
So, we pretended.
And in the midst of us pretending, I had to keep reminding myself not to
be too good at it. I couldn't let Sam see how much his touch affected me. I
couldn't let him see how much…he affected me. It turned out Sam was
right again. I had way too much fun pretending with him. In that lobby, in
front of those women, I realized I'd started to feel something very real.
For my fake boyfriend.
Which was why I decided to avoid him.
 It was easy enough over the weekend. I told him I was working a
double shift at the diner—which was true—and after that, I had a whole
bunch of homework—also true. On Sunday, I said that was when I
practiced violin—which he accepted without question. But I did that every
day. The truth was the majority of my weekend was spent trying to get my
head on straight. After a lot of thought, I came to a conclusion.
The problem wasn't Sam.
It was me.
Nothing had changed.
And yet…everything had.
After Friday, I was finally forced to admit my feelings to myself. That
might not sound like a big deal—but it was. Charlotte was right. I still
liked Sam. Of course, I did. Who wouldn't? But the feelings were more
intense now, closer to the surface. This might sink our entire arrangement.
I couldn't allow my heart to get in the way of my goals. I wouldn't.
So what if my crush never fully went away?
I could be professional. Sam and I were friends. Friends who'd struck a
deal, and I intended to honor it.
Because it always helped me to write things down, I retrieved a pen and
wrote several lines of affirmations.

I am stronger than my feelings.

I will not be ruled by emotion.
I will conquer this and guard my heart.

Something about seeing the words made them feel more possible.
Looking at the paper, I added two final lines.

Love is wonderful…in theory.

But not for me.

Closing my notebook, I headed to the bathroom. Looking my best

always helped me feel my best. I wanted a refresh and to make sure I didn't
look as scattered as I felt. Luckily, as I stepped to the mirror, the girl I saw
reflected back looked completely put together. On the outside. There was
no sign anything was amiss. No hint that she was struggling with her
feelings.
 No indication that she was currently falling for a guy whose heart was
already taken.
"I will conquer this," I said aloud. "I won't be ruled by emotion. Love
is wonderful. But not for me."
With a sigh, I took out my gloss and ran it over my lips.
A toilet flushed; a door opened, and with a start, I realized I wasn't alone
in the bathroom.
Brisa walked up to the sink next to mine, turned it on and began
washing her hands.
"Hey, Brisa," I said.
"Hey," she said back.
"I was just practicing a monologue. For drama."
She glanced at me then away. "Cute."
Brisa didn't sound like she thought it was cute. She said it like she
thought I was crazy.
Smooth, Scarlett. Real smooth.
"Student council should be fun this year," I said. "Planning all the
senior activities. Are you excited to graduate?"
She scoffed quietly.
"Yeah, I know it's a lot. I heard you got a scholarship to—"
"Can we not?" she said.
It was so abrupt my mouth snapped shut on reflex.
After a moment, though, I recovered.
"Can we not…what?" I asked. "I thought we were okay."
Brisa rolled her eyes then turned to face me with a smile. "Scarlett, I
don't even know you."
I blinked.
"Being on council together doesn't make us BFFs," she went on. "If you
insist on rambling, can you please go somewhere else? You're disrupting
my me time."
"Wow," I said quietly. "I always thought you were nice."
"I am nice. To people who deserve it."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
She lifted a brow, and I shook my head.
"What'd I ever do to you?" I asked.
 "To me, nothing," she said then tilted her head. "But just FYI, dating
my ex doesn't make us besties either."
Internally, I smiled.
So. Brisa was jealous. Guess we could check off stage two of the plan.
That should've made me glad, but then she kept going.
"Sam, on the other hand, is my friend," Brisa said. "One of my best
friends. And if you hurt him, I will make your life hell."
I jerked back. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
"I'm not the one who broke his heart when I broke up with him," I said.
"No, you're just the girl he pined after for years without a care for his
feelings."
"Wha—that never happened."
"You're so clueless," she said and crossed her arms. "But that's no
excuse. I repeat, don't hurt Sam. If you do, you'll have me to answer to.
Understand?"
I shook my head. "Sure, but—"
"That's all I wanted to hear."
Two other girls attempted to enter the bathroom, and Brisa said, "Hey,
Dani, Lorelei! Let's go find another restroom. This one's overcrowded."
They locked arms and out Brisa went, her hair swirling like a freaking
tornado, leaving me a confused mess in her wake.
So much for the refresh.
After that convo, I was completely baffled.
My feet took me to the music room on auto-pilot. I'd already had my
private lesson with Theresa—during which, she called me out for being
distracted. That was 100% accurate. But she also noted that my playing
seemed even more passionate than usual. Hmmm. Must've been all those
emotions leaking out. Music always helped me release them.
I hoped it would do that again now.
Technically, it was my lunchtime, but reaching for my favorite outlet, I
removed Yami Yami from her case, rested the violin on my shoulder, and
ran my fingers along the neck. Closing my eyes, I played, letting the music
carry me away.
I lost track of time.
Wasn't sure how long I stayed in that blissed out state.
 But at the sound of someone clapping, my eyes snapped open.
Sam was standing in the doorway. He'd been propped up against the
frame, but at my look of surprise, he stepped forward with a grin.
"Sounded good, Kent," he said.
"Thanks."
"I said your name, but you were completely lost in the music."
"Yeah, that happens sometimes," I mumbled, ducking to put Yami Yami
away—it also had the added bonus of giving me an extra second to
compose myself. "Were you looking for me?"
"Yeah, I haven't seen you all day. You okay?"
"Of course, why wouldn't I be?"
Sam shrugged, stopping about a foot away. "Don't know. That's why I
asked."
Straightening, I took a deep breath and met his gaze. "I ran into Brisa,"
I said.
"Oh yeah?"
"We had a strange conversation. She said some weird things."
Sam shrugged. "Like what?"
"Well, she called you one of her best friends," I said. "Told me she'd
make my life hell if I hurt you."
He chuckled quietly.
"You think that's funny?"
"Just sounds like something Brisa would say." Sam cocked a brow.
"She didn't scare you too much. Did she?"
"She was pretty fierce," I said. "Honestly, I respect her for sticking up
for you—or I would if she wasn't threatening me. Everyone needs a friend
like that. But she also said…"
He waited.
Rolling my shoulders back, I went on, "She says you've been pining
after me."
Sam's frown was instant. "What?"
"Brisa seemed to think you like me. That you have for years."
He said nothing.
"Crazy, right?" I said.
"Yeah, crazy," he agreed, and I literally felt a fissure appear on the
surface of my heart.
 Oh, well. It wasn't like I expected him to say, Yes, Scarlett, I've loved
you forever. Let's run away together and live happily ever after. But man,
that hurt.
"Did she say anything else?"
"No," I said, "but I think our plan to make her jealous is working."
Sam shook his head. "I doubt that."
"Come on, Brisa obviously still cares about you."
"I care about her too," he said almost absently.
The words hit me like a blow, but I hid my reaction well.
Or at least, I thought I did.
"Hey," Sam said, "come here."
Before I knew what was happening, Sam had pulled me to his chest,
holding me gently but firmly in his warm embrace.
"What are you doing?" I asked, the words muffled by his shirt.
"Hugging you," he said.
"Why?"
"Looked like you could use a hug."
I hmphed but couldn't help burrowing closer, putting my arms around
his back, breathing him in like he was my favorite scent in the world.
"Is this part of our lessons?" I asked.
"Nah, but we should reschedule. I know you were looking forward to
those."
Feeling like I could get addicted to this, to him, I said, "Brisa obviously
believes we're a thing. Maybe we don't need the lessons."
"Oh, we definitely need the lessons, Starlet."
I laughed. "Okay, I'll just add kissing lessons to my planner."
"You do that."
Pulling me closer, he buried his nose in my hair.
"Also get to check #8 off your list."
"Hmmm," I said, "but what about #3, the back hug?"
Without missing a beat, Sam spun me around, and I couldn't help the
airy laugh that escaped my lips as he wrapped his arms around me from
behind, his front pressed securely against my back.
"You give good hugs, Bishop."
"I know. And don't worry about Brisa," Sam said right next to my ear,
causing my breath to hitch. "If it was a cage match, I'd put my money on
you, Kent."
"Because I'm so tough?" I asked.
"Because you're you. You never give up, always get what you want."
Not always, I thought.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 11

"Remind me why we're doing this again," I said.

Sam cocked a brow. "Because we want Scam to succeed."
"Okay, but it's already going well. People think we're legit together."
"Yeah, that's because we got lucky."
I twisted to face Sam more fully, no easy task in his Mustang which had
a center console separating us and not a lot of leg room. Sure, there were
fantastic things to be said about the car. It was beautiful, for one. Sporty,
nice sound system, and the heated seats really did come in handy on a cold
day. But, as I'd come to find out, there were drawbacks as well.
Super confined space.
Again, very little leg room.
Hard to get in and out of because it was so low to the ground.
We were currently parked in the Chariot High parking lot. More people
would be coming soon because the soccer team had a game tonight. But for
now, Sam's car and mine were the only two here.
"Go on," I said.
Sam mirrored my position, facing me with a slight grin on his face.
"Our first kiss was hot and had a ton of witnesses who went out and spread
the word."
Cheeks flushing, I nodded. "Band members—and high schoolers, in
general—love to gossip. What's your point?"
"It was unplanned, them seeing the kiss," he added, "but it worked to
our advantage. Like you said, we're killing it with the PDA."
Yeah, we are, I thought.
"But who's to say that wasn't a fluke?"
My smile fell as quickly as it appeared. "What do you mean?"
Sam shrugged. "Well, that was your first kiss, our first as a couple."
The way he said 'couple' sent a happy flutter through me.
"In science, for an experiment to be considered successful, you have be
able to recreate the results. So we scored a ten on our first kiss—"
More like a 100.
 "—but what about kiss number two, three, or 15?"
I swallowed as my eyes dropped to his lips. "Do you really think we'll
be kissing that much?"
"I don't know," Sam said, "but maybe."
The flutters tripled.
"The point is we don't want to make a wrong move. We need to make
sure every kiss we have is believable. And to do that, don't you think we
should work on it?"
My brows furrowed, and I tilted my head. "You've given this a lot of
thought."
Sam ran a hand through his hair. "What can I say, Kent. I like being
prepared."
"We've been in classes together over the years, Bishop," I said. "No
offense, but you've never presented an argument this convincing, even when
it was for a grade. What's the deal?"
"I guess I care more about this."
My heart translated that to: I care more about you.
The stupid organ kept forgetting this was all pretend.
And that was the problem.
It was one of the many reasons I'd begun to think these 'lessons' weren't
a good idea after all—no matter how much I yearned to kiss the guy sitting
across from me.
Sam was staring at me as if I was a puzzle he couldn't figure out.
"Is there a reason you don't want to kiss me, Kent?"
"No," I said—but there were several why I shouldn't. "Not wanting to
kiss you isn't an issue."
"Then what?"
I want to kiss you too much. I think about it, about you, all the time. I
want to attach myself to you and never let go.
Sam would run far and fast if I said that to him.
When I'd been quiet too long, Sam said, "I thought you liked it the first
time."
"I loved it."
Sam's grin widened at my unfiltered response. "Okay, then let's do it
again."
"For science?" I asked.
 "Practice makes perfect," he replied.
I hesitated, but the truth was I really did want to kiss him again. I was
pretty sure he knew it too by the way his blue eyes sparkled.
"Ready whenever you are."
"Wait," I said with a scoff. "You expect me to kiss you?"
"Yeah," he said, "I figured that would be lesson one."
"So, I get to do all the work. Awesome," I muttered.
Sam sent me a solemn nod. "I believe in you."
With a deep inhale, I drew up all my courage. Okay. I could do this. It
was just a kiss. Right?
Not just, my heart said. It could never be just anything with Sam.
But I leaned forward anyway.
My lips met his in the softest of kisses. Eyes closed, I lingered there for
several moments, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine way more than I
should, before pulling away. Even that small touch was enough to have
sparks going off inside my chest.
"There," I said, trying to seem unaffected. "Lesson one complete."
Sam was already shaking his head. "I don't think so."
"What? Why not?"
"Kent, if you kiss me like that people will think we're about to break
up."
My eyes widened. "They will not."
"Yeah, they will. That was lukewarm. It has to be hotter, more
passionate."
"I think it was hot," I said with a sniff.
He gave me a dubious look as if to say Seriously? to which I rolled my
eyes.
"Well, it was good for my first try. Plus, this car is so confining. I feel
like I can't even move."
Sam's eyes narrowed. "You're blaming my car?"
"Maybe I am."
"Okay then," he said and popped the locks, "let's take this outside."
I went to argue, but he was already circling the car. Once he got to my
door, Sam opened it for me and offered his hand. I ignored it and tried to
get out on my own. Unfortunately, in my haste, the toe of my shoe caught
on the floorboard. The car was already so low to begin with. I truly
thought I would end up eating gravel—but Sam was there. He caught me
and righted me in the same breath.
"Try not to hurt yourself," he said.
I nodded, doing my best not to notice how good his arms felt around
me.
"Also, that's what you get for insulting Lucinda."
"Who's Lucinda?" I asked.
"My car," he said. "She's very sensitive."
I tried not to smile, but it was a losing battle. Seeing this, Sam grinned
back.
"She's also vindictive," I said.
He shrugged then closed the door. "What can I say? I like strong girls,
ones who aren't afraid to take what they want."
While he leaned back against the side of his car, I shook my head. "Was
that your way of challenging me, Bishop?"
"No idea what you mean, Kent."
He raised a brow, telling me without saying a word that he knew exactly
what I meant.
"Now, you want to try that kiss again?"
"Fine," I said.
This time I stood on tiptoe and pressed my mouth more firmly to his.
The sparks started up again, and before it could get too far, I drew back.
"Better?" I asked.
"Honestly?" When I nodded, he said, "It was good, but where's the
heat?"
I crossed my arms. "You're kidding, right? There was heat in that kiss."
Sam stared at me a second, then his eyes shifted to something to our
left.
"Hey, Felix," he called out. Startled, I followed his gaze and found the
guy he was talking to, leaning up against one of the bleachers several feet
away. He was dressed all in black. Black t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up,
black jeans, and black shoes. His hair looked black too. Even from a
distance, he gave off intimidating, don't-mess-with-me vibes. I hadn't even
noticed him until now which was crazy because the guy was tall and hard to
miss. "On a scale of one to 10, how would you rate that kiss?"
Felix thought about it a second then held up two fingers.
 "Thanks, man," Sam said.
"A two?" I said indignantly. "He seriously just gave me a two?"
"Technically, he gave us a two, but yeah. I told you, Kent. It's missing
something."
That low score had officially awakened my competitive streak.
"Let's try again," I said.
Sam nodded, and when I leaned forward, wrapping my arms around his
neck and pulling him closer, he came willingly. Our mouths moved
together. It was like a song, a slow one that built with intensity the longer
we stayed connected. I was slightly out of breath when I stepped back.
Looking over my shoulder, I raised a brow at Felix.
The guy gave me a blank stare.
A second later, he held up a hand.
I scoffed. "Five? What the what? That kiss was at least a six."
"Hey, no argument here," Sam mumbled.
"Who is that guy anyway?"
"Felix Sorensen. We grew up together. He's a friend."
I frowned at that. "Some friend. He's dissing my kissing technique."
When I looked back at Sam, he was staring at my lips.
"I've never gotten a failing grade in my life," I said.
"Wouldn't want to start now," he said back. "But if you don't want to do
this, it's okay."
"One more kiss."
"Whatever you want," Sam said and pulled me closer.
Those words would replay a thousand different times in my mind.
I kissed him, and this time I didn't hold back. My lips moved over
Sam's with intention. All the emotions I'd been fighting, the frustration at
having to hide them, I let it all pour out into that kiss. The sparks turned
into flames that started low in my stomach before expanding outward,
licking up my insides, until I felt the kiss everywhere. When I ran my
tongue along the seam of Sam's lips, he opened. When our tongues met, I
whimpered at how right it felt. Sam's hands tightened on my waist in
response, and when I lifted up higher on my toes, trying to get closer,
feeling like I could never be near enough, he held me so close it felt like we
were one. I'd never felt so wrapped up in another person. Never felt so
connected. The kiss lasted forever and not nearly long enough. As he
lowered me back to the ground, Sam stayed attached to my lips, following
me, and I couldn't help it. I caught his bottom lip and gave it a slight tug
before releasing him, letting him know without words how much I wanted
him and how pissed I was that he couldn't see it.
Sam's breath hitched, and as we parted, his eyes stayed on mine.
I cleared my throat then said, "Let's see what your friend Felix thought
about that."
But when I looked back, the guy in black had disappeared.
"Guess he had somewhere to be," Sam said.
"Of course, he did," I mumbled. "Too bad he couldn't stick around. I'm
sure that score would've been higher."
"Ten out of ten."
I looked to Sam, a blush stealing up my cheeks. He reached out and
placed his hand there, causing my pulse to go crazy.
"A plus, plus, Kent," he said then added, "I love it when you blush like
that. It's even better knowing I had something to do with it."
You had everything to do with it, I thought but didn't say. Stepping
back, I forced a laugh, projecting unruffled calm. But inside? I was a total
wreck.
"I should get going," I said. "Let you get ready for the game."
"That's not for a couple hours. I was going to go home and come back.
We've got time."
"Yeah, but still."
Sam ran a hand through his hair. "Will you be there?"
I hadn't planned on it, but…
"Might be nice," he said. "To see my girlfriend in the stands."
Would I ever get used to hearing him call me that?
As my heart skipped, I didn't think so.
"Well, I've still got to send in my plans for student council," I said. "I'm
organizing the Back-to-School Festival, have to get all the details hashed
out. After that, I've got to meet my cousins for practice, and then I have a
boat load of homework. Plus, sports aren't really my thing..."
"That's cool. Just thought I'd ask," he said.
But I couldn't stand seeing his face fall.
And it did fall.
 Sam looked sad, and I knew there was something I could do about it.
So…
"I'll be there," I said.
"Really?" He sounded surprised. "Seriously, you don't have to come."
I nodded. "I know, but I'll be there."
Sam's smile was bright and blinding.
"I've got to support my boyfriend, right?"
He laughed quietly, leaned forward and pressed a light kiss against my
cheek. "Thanks, Kent."
I gave him a shrug. "Thanks for the kissing lesson."
"No problem."
Sam rounded the car to the driver's side then met my eyes over the hood.
"Looking forward to the next lesson," he said, and with a wink, Sam got
into his car and drove away, leaving me staring after him.
Did we really need another lesson when Sam's kisses nearly brought me
to my knees?
Probably not.
Would I spend way too much time thinking about, looking forward to,
and longing for lesson two?
One hundred percent yes.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 12

Tea was one of my favorite things.

I enjoyed it both in liquid form and as a release.
I was reminded of this indisputable fact yet again as I listened to my
girls vent about their relationship woes. With my cousin, Freya, it always
seemed to be about food.
"I think I need to break up with Wayne," she said.
"Why?" Charlotte asked.
"Because of the cookies."
There was a moment of silence, then I said, "I think we're going need
more context."
"I told Wayne he couldn't have one of my Oreos, that they're how I
reward myself after a workout. And what does he do?" Freya said with an
arched brow. "He gets all mad and calls me a selfish cow for not sharing."
"I'll grab some cookies for you from the sweets table if you want," I
offered.
"Thanks, Scarlett," she said, "but that's not the point."
Raising her hand like we were in school instead of the live musical
entertainment at a birthday party, my other cousin, Aurora, asked, "What is
the point exactly?"
I nearly laughed, both at how she said it—there was no sarcasm
whatsoever, just honest curiosity. Aurora was one of the sweetest, shyest,
most kind-hearted people I knew. Honestly, I worried about her sometimes.
But we Kent cousins stuck together. There were five of us total, along with
my big sister, Charlotte, and me. Needless to say, if anyone ever messed
with Aurora, they'd have four pissed, vengeful, and very motivated girls on
their hands.
The other thing that made me want to laugh?
Freya's face.
She sighed at Aurora's question then said, "My boyfriend's a jerk. I
think that's the point."
 "At least you have a boyfriend," Aurora put in. "Guys don't even notice
me."
"That's because most of them are idiots," I said.
"Oh, I'm not complaining. Guys scare me—especially the hot ones."
Freya sighed again. "Unfortunately, Wayne isn't hot. He's just…
Wayne."
I did laugh at that.
"I don't get it. Why couldn't he just get his own cookies?" Charlotte
asked.
"Exactly!"
I shrugged then said, "I think food is better when it's shared."
My sister lifted a brow. "You mean stolen while the other person's not
looking?"
"Same thing."
"It's really not, Scar, but okay."
I shot her a smile. "I bet Bo would agree with me."
Charlotte tried to look annoyed, but a soft smile appeared on her face
just like it always did whenever we talked about her gentleman caller—
Lotte hated it when I called Bo that which meant I did it every time she
annoyed me. But Bo really was a gentleman. He was the exception to the
rule. A genuinely good-if-grumpy person, Bo Stryker was a unicorn in a
world full of horse poo. That didn't mean I'd stop teasing Lotte, though.
"You let him steal your food all the time while slapping my hand away,"
I added, "which is…hurtful to be honest."
My sister snorted a laugh.
"I mean, he’s just your gentleman caller." Watching her eye twitch
made me smile. "I'm your sister, Lotte. Blood is thicker than water, right?"
"First"—Charlotte held up a finger—"Bo asks before taking anything
off my plate—something you never do. Second, he's always hungry
because of soccer and marital arts. And third, will you please stop calling
him that?"
"So much for sisters before misters," Freya said, throwing me a smile.
I nodded. "Yeah, I'd never let a guy come between us."
"I thought you were the one who got them together," Aurora said.
"I was—but Lotte never gives me credit for all the good I do," I said.
 Aurora's lips turned down at the corners. "I know you're all on the same
page, but...I never want a boyfriend."
Freya shrugged. "They're highly overrated."
Just then, my phone buzzed in my hand.
It was a text from Sam.
Sam: Have you jumped out of the cake yet?
I bit back a smile then replied.
Me: Told you already, Bishop. I'm not jumping out of anything.
Sam: Why not? Could be a good surprise.
Me: Um, because this is a birthday party with a princess tea party
theme, and the cake isn't human-sized?
Sam: Too bad.
Another text came through a moment later.
Sam: Are you wearing the blue dress?
Me: Possibly. Why?
Sam: I'm just trying to picture it.
I shook my head as I typed.
Me: Again, why???
Sam: Because I like you in that dress.
My heart beat like a drum in my chest as I read the words.
Sam: I'm almost jealous of those kids getting to see you in it. But not
really. You are my girlfriend ;).
Well, that answered that question.
I'd often wondered if the word would have as much impact if he wasn't
saying it to my face. Spoken or written, it didn't matter. Sam calling me his
girlfriend would likely always make my chest flutter.
Me: You're crazy. I have to go. We're about to start our set.
Sam: Good luck, Kent.
Me: Thanks, Bishop—we'll need it lol. 13-year-olds aren't the easiest to
please.
Sam: Don't worry. You got this. You and your cousins are going to
blow the roof off that tea party. Wish I was there to see it.
I wish you were too, I thought.
Before I could chicken out, I replied.
Me: You're a really good fake boyfriend. Bye, Bishop.
 I didn't wait for his response. Putting my phone away, I looked up, only
now noticing that the girls around me had fallen silent. They were staring
at me expectantly.
"What?" I said.
"Nothing," Charlotte said, but by the small grin on her face, I could tell
it was more than that. "Good conversation?"
"Sam just wanted to wish us luck. No big deal."
Though it was big, at least to me. The fact that he remembered and took
the time to send those messages? Yeah, not going to lie. It moved me,
melting my heart more than a little. Not that I'd say that to my family.
Charlotte, especially, was a no go. She already suspected my feelings were
far more serious than they should be. No need to prove her right.
"He was wishing you luck," Charlotte said. "Not us."
Freya spoke next, sounding uncharacteristically cheerful. "Have I told
you how much I love your dress?" she said.
I shook my head, wondering if she'd been reading over my shoulder.
"You hate this dress—and all dresses for that matter."
"Hmm, well, I love that one. Speaking of which"—she added with
possibly the worst segway ever—"how's your love life?"
"Huh?" I said.
"That little text session." Freya bounced her brows at me. "Looks like
things are going well with Sam. So?"
"So?" I echoed.
"Come on, Scarlett," my sister said. "She wants details."
"I do," Freya added. "As someone whose boyfriend sucks, I'm living
vicariously through you. I want all the tea."
"Me too," Charlotte said, "although Bo doesn't suck, and he even called
just to hear my voice before this."
"Me three," Aurora put in.
"There's not much to tell," I said cooly, but they kept giving me—and
each other—these knowing looks. "I'm not sure what you want me to say.
It was just a few texts."
Aurora shrugged. "You couldn't stop smiling," she said.
I frowned.
"When you saw his name on your phone, it was like the sun came out of
your face."
 "That sounds painful, Ror," Freya said.
"It does," Charlotte agreed.
When Aurora looked to me, I nodded. "Sunlight coming out of
someone's face would only work if they were a mutant—and even then, I'm
not sure it would feel good."
"Okay," she said, "so my metaphors aren't the best."
I couldn't stop myself from adding, "It was actually a simile because
you didn't use like or as. But carry on."
"Anyway," Aurora said, "it's still true. You don't usually smile like
that."
I gave her a shrug. "It's probably because we're about to play, and music
is my first love."
"You love something," Charlotte muttered, but I pretended not to hear.
"Has anyone heard from Viola?" Aurora said, and I frowned.
"I haven't," I said.
"The last I heard she was on her way," Charlotte said.
"Well, she better hurry," Freya said after checking the time on her
phone. "We're on in five minutes, and the birthday girl's mom plus the
scary-hot dude in the leather jacket who I think is her big brother has
already looked this way a few times."
"Viola's not usually late," I said. "And when she is going to be, she
always lets one of us know."
Aurora bit her lip then said, "Should we be worried? Because I'm kind
of worried."
"I'll call her," I said, but as I went to reach for my phone, our cousin
rushed in, wearing a pink dress and looking frazzled.
"I'm here, I'm here," she said, sounding out of breath. "Sorry guys.
Thanks for not starting without me."
"No problem." I leaned forward to smooth back the strands of hair
flying about her face. "What happened? Aurora was worried."
"And the rest of you weren't?"
"Hey," Freya said, "I was."
Viola gave her a smile. "No, you weren't."
"Well, I was getting there. I would've had to sightread the cello parts if
you didn't show."
Charlotte chuckled, but I just shook my head.
 "I mean, we all know I could do it but still."
"Nice, Frey," I said.
"What did I say?"
Viola patted her on the shoulder. "It's cool. We all know the cello is the
more difficult and therefore superior instrument, so I understand." I think
all four of us rolled our eyes at that. Aurora was playing the viola tonight,
but everyone knew violin was the best. "And to answer your question, Scar,
I'm late because I saw a dog on the side of the road. I couldn't leave the big
guy out there. It's supposed to rain this week, you know?"
I did.
But my cousin Viola loved animals. It was one of the main reasons she
worked at a local animal shelter and had put so much energy there for the
past several years. She took her job seriously, and I knew that rain or shine,
Viola would've dropped everything to help an animal in need. It was just
her nature.
"So anyway," she added, "I stopped, took him to the shelter, and got him
settled in. I think I'll call him Batman. He had the cutest ears."
"What happened to your neck?" Charlotte asked, pointing to a red mark
on Viola's skin. "Did the dog nip you?"
Her hand flew to her neck, and a flush spread on her cheeks. "Ah no, he
didn't."
"You said Batman was big," Aurora said. "Weren't you scared to try and
get him in the car?"
"Not really. I had help."
"You did?" I asked. "Who?"
"Well…"
Just then a guy entered and walked across the ballroom. I recognized
him immediately, and as he made his way to us, I caught several of the
birthday girl's friends murmuring. "Is he a prince?" one girl whispered.
Her friend nodded. "He looks like one. So cute." "The cutest," another
said. And honestly, they were kinda right. As Dare Frost stopped in front
of Viola and smiled, I could totally see it. He was a good-looking guy.
Definitely prince material. Although, my mind noted, Sam's eyes were
bluer. And even if Dare was nice to look at, my boyfriend was definitely
the cutest.
I blinked.
 Did I really just think that?
My boyfriend?
The cutest?
I gave myself a mental slap.
Viola tilted her head at Dare. "Hey, what are you doing here?"
"You forgot something in the car," he said and held out her bow.
"Oh, thank you," she said, grabbing it quickly from his hand. "I was in
such a hurry, didn't want to be late."
"Now, I see why you were," Charlotte mumbled, and I elbowed her side
while biting back a grin.
"I forgot something too," Dare said.
He leaned forward and placed a kiss against Viola's cheek. I could've
sworn I heard Aurora and several others sigh in response.
"Have a good night, flower."
"You too," she said breathlessly.
"Don't worry about Batman. We'll check on him tomorrow. Nice seeing
you all again." Dare nodded at us, shot one last warm look at Viola, turned
on his heel, and walked out as quickly as he appeared.
"Okay, I get why you were late," Freya said, "and I approve."
I crossed my arms, trying to look stern. "Same, but next time, maybe
set an alarm when you make out with your boyfriend? Then you won't lose
track of time."
"Yeah, that wouldn't be weird at all," Viola said and shot me a grin.
"How's your boyfriend? Sam Bishop, right?"
"He's fine," I said.
"Sooo fine," Aurora replied which got a high-five from Freya. She
shrugged when I looked to her, and I couldn't help but laugh.
"Dare said he saw you at the Durham soccer game," Viola said. "It's
cool that you went to support Sam."
Charlotte's eyes filled with interest. "You went to a soccer game?"
I mumbled under my breath.
"What was that?" she asked, unwilling to let it go.
"Two," I said. "I've been to two games."
"Hmmm."
I couldn't even argue because I agreed with that 'Hmmm.' Why had I
gone to two of Sam's games when I had such a freaking busy schedule?
Was it just to see his eyes light up when he spotted me on the sidelines?
Did his smile mean that much to me?
The answer was as obvious as it was unsettling.
Thankfully, the scary-hot big brother gave us the signal, and a second
later, we got down to business. Music I understood. It was easy in a way.
All you had to do was play the notes on the page, follow them to the letter,
add your own flair and perform from the heart. Tapping into my emotions
had never been a problem. As our music filled the space, I knew this party
was in for a treat. Playing in public wasn't my sister's favorite thing, but
that was because she hadn't accepted how awesome she was. And Charlotte
was awesome in so many ways. Freya was the most natural and a total
beast musically-speaking—I was convinced she was born with a violin in
her hand. Aurora was the most surprising because, as introverted as she
was in social situations, she played without any reservations. Viola made
her cello sing like nothing I'd ever heard before, shaping the notes, pulling
them from the depths of her soul. And I…well, I loved composing, but I
also loved performing, especially with my girls.
Our set consisted of classical and contemporary music.
A few tea party standards.
More than a few pop songs—which the kids seemed to love the most.
And a couple of my original pieces.
We played some of our best music at that birthday. My mind usually
shut off, and I could just lose myself. But my sister's eyes kept coming to
rest on me between songs. I have so many questions, they said. I tried to
convey that I do too but wasn't sure she got the message. The truth was…
the longer I was with Sam the more I wanted to stay with him.
And that wouldn't do.
Initially, my goal was to complete my list before graduation.
But maybe I should accelerate the timeline.
It made so much sense. I was a little disappointed I didn't think of it
sooner. I nearly missed a key change because I was so excited about my
new plan. Freya shot me a confused look, but I just played on. Romance
was like a flower. It needed time to grow and thrive. But what would
happen if you cut that period short? The idea took root in my mind and
would not let go.
Get my list done as quickly as possible.
 Knock out the romantic things as if they were…well, exactly what they
were. Items on a list. No sentimentality. No mushiness. Just business—as
it was always meant to be.
Considering everything, it was the best course of action.
Less time with Sam, less time to fall for him. Right?
Hopefully my fake boyfriend would agree.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 13

"Sorry, I'm going to need you to repeat that," Sam said.

I rolled my eyes, trying not to notice how well he filled out his soccer
jersey. "I know you heard me."
"One more time. Please."
If he hadn't said please, I might've called off the whole thing.
But he did, so…
"Will you go on a date with me, Bishop?" I asked.
He stared at me, then after a moment, his lips lifted into a slow smile.
"Okay."
I exhaled.
"But I get to plan the date," he said.
Jerking back, I shot him a confused look. "Is that really necessary?
Planning is one of my greatest strengths. Just ask Principal Rochelle. She
basically handed over all the planning for the Back-to-School Festival to me
because she says I'm so capable."
"And I'm sure you are, Kent." Sam patted my shoulder. "When it
comes to school functions, fundraising, funnel cakes, and family-approved
activities, I trust you completely."
"Congrats on fitting all those F's into one sentence," I said. "Why do I
sense a 'but'?"
He shrugged, running a hand through his dark hair, the messing up of
which did absolutely nothing to detract from his appeal. "But I know more
about dating."
I crossed my arms with a scoff. "Says who?"
"Your list for one."
"Listen Bishop, just because you're my first boyfriend doesn't mean I
know nothing about relationships." I paused as his eyes twinkled. "Why
are you looking at me like that?"
"You called me your boyfriend," he said.
"So?"
"I like the way it sounds."
 My heart got stuck in my throat.
"Even when you're pretending to be mad at me." Sam winked. "Just let
me plan our date, Kent. I promise, it'll be a good one."
Trying to shake off my inconvenient emotions, I shrugged.
"That should work. As long as we remember that it's a fake date,
everything should go wonderful."
Sam's brows furrowed as he cocked his head to the side. "How could
we forget that? We have a plan."
"Yes, we do. Speaking of which, I wanted to run something by you," I
said.
"Alright, practice starts in five minutes," he said. "If I'm not out on the
field, Coach Stryker will make me do laps. I hate laps, just so you know.
But I'll do them for you."
"This will only take a second."
"Okay, but first, let me give you these, in case we run out of time."
As I watched, Sam reached down into his duffle bag and pulled out…a
colorful bouquet of flowers. It looked like a mix of pink Gerber daisies and
lilies. My eyes drank them in before moving back to Sam's smiling face.
"How'd you know my favorites?" I asked.
"Your sister told me," he said.
My eyes widened. "You talked to Charlotte?"
"Yeah, I went to a flower shop. Bo Stryker's grandmother owns one by
the library, and your sister was there minutes after I walked in. I really
didn't know what to get you. Then there she was. It was like magic."
Yeah, or not.
I'd bet good money that Charlotte had a spy on the inside (aka Bo) who
let her know exactly when Sam came in.
"So, do you like them?" he asked.
I nodded, lifting the blooms to my nose, unable to stop inhaling their
fresh scent. "Of course. They're beautiful, Bishop."
"I'm glad."
"At this rate, we could be done by the end of the month."
Sam's smile seemed to dim. "What do you mean?"
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," I said. "I know graduation
was the goal, but I don't think we need that long. It's going so well. I think
we should try to get the list done faster."
 "Why the rush?"
"No reason," I lied.
"I say we take our time, make sure to dot all the i's, cross the t's."
"Well, I think it would be better for everyone if we don't draw things
out," I said. "Then there won't be any confusion."
"You feeling confused, Kent?"
"No, of course not," I said as a flush spread across my cheeks. Before
he could probe further, I added, "Has Brisa reached out to you yet?"
"You mean, besides her glaring at us in the halls?" he said. "That would
be a no."
I took one last whiff of the flowers and smiled. "That's okay. Those
glares mean stage two is working liking a charm. If she's upset at seeing
you with me, that means she's still into you. We'll get her back in no time."
"Sure," he said, sounding less excited than he had a moment ago. I
assumed his mood shift had to do with missing Brisa. Which was just one
more reason to end this sooner rather than later.
"Hey," I said and reached out to place a hand on his forearm, ignoring
the spark I felt upon contact. "Don't worry. We'll get her back."
"Yeah." Sam stared at my hand. "I should get to practice."
Tilting my head to the flowers, I said, "Thanks again, Bishop."
Sam leaned forward and dropped a kiss on my forehead. "Happy two-
week anniversary, Starlet."
Eyes wide with surprise, I watched as Sam lifted his chin then jogged
off to the field.
Was it normal for high school guys to remember anniversaries?
I didn't think so.
Even if it was, I doubted they'd go out of their way to find out
someone's favorite flower. And the forehead kiss? Total overkill. I was
already swooning from the moment I saw him in that jersey. By the time he
left, I might as well have been a puddle at his feet. Sam Bishop kept
wedging his way deeper and deeper into my heart. He made it look so easy
too.
It was the right call, speeding up the timeline.
Now, I just had to make it happen.
Turned out that was easier said than done.
First of all, I hadn't anticipated Sam's reaction to my request.
 He showed up the next day and handed me a sheet of paper.
"What's this for?" I asked.
"Our dates," he said.
I lifted a brow as I read through the page. "More than one, huh?"
"Three so far, but there might be more. You signed on for the full
boyfriend experience, and that's what you're going to get, Kent."
Each "date" was labeled, and Sam had written little summaries
including the broad details of what to expect. Estimated times and days of
the week were listed (he'd obviously considered my schedule when making
these). It was clear a lot of effort went into creating this sheet.
My eyes met his in wonder. "I thought you wanted to take things slow."
"I did," he said, "at first. Still do if you're up for it. But I can see why
you wanted to speed things up."
As my gaze narrowed, he gave a small shrug.
"My charm's obviously too much for you."
I choked out a laugh.
"I know it's hard, Kent. But try your best to resist."
"You are so full of yourself," I said which caused him to smile.
"I am the Sam Bishop," he replied.
Leaning forward, he lowered his voice and spoke directly into my ear,
making me shiver.
"I'll meet you tonight for our first pretend date."
"Okay," I murmured, "but…"
He stood back up, so he could see my face.
"My dad wants to meet you," I said, trying not to wince. "He's going to
give you the talk which I've heard is terror-induing, and I apologize in
advance."
"No problem," he said. "It's been a while, but I've met your dad before.
He liked me."
"Yeah, but you weren't my boyfriend then."
"I'm sure it'll be fine."

It wasn't fine.
It so wasn't.
 When I got home and told Dad I had a friend coming over, he didn't bat
an eye. "Okay, I'll make extra spaghetti," he'd said. Then I mentioned—
quickly and quietly—that the person was my boyfriend, and suddenly, my
father was wide awake. He had an unending stream of questions.
Understandable. I'd expected nothing less, since this was the first time I'd
ever used the b-word.
But finally he asked the question, the one I'd been avoiding all along.
"Does he have a name?" he asked.
"What?"
"Either you're so excited for us to meet that you forgot his name, or
you're intentionally trying to avoid telling me. Both are a bit concerning."
"He could also be imaginary," I said.
Dad squinted at me. "Is he?"
"No."
"That leaves forgetfulness or avoidance. So, which is it, Scarlett?"
"Neither," I said. "I just wasn't sure you'd want to know."
"The name of my daughter's boyfriend?" he said with a laugh. "Yeah, I
think I want to know."
"Oh, okay then."
"That will make it so much easier to run the background check."
"Dad."
He nodded for me to continue.
Deep breath, Scarlett.
How bad could it be?
"It's Sam," I said.
There was no response. At the sound of Sam's name, my father had
gone oddly still.
"You remember. Sam Bishop?" I tried again.
"I remember."
The way he said it did not bode well.
"He's the kid who broke your heart," he said.
I forced a laugh. "A tad over-dramatic. Don't you think?"
Dad lifted a brow. "You locked yourself in your room for days. I had to
listen on the other side of the door while you played your violin and cried. I
felt helpless."
His face and voice hardened.
 "Sam Bishop made you cry," he said then looked at me with furrowed
brows. "You're actually dating that kid?"
Fake dating, I corrected mentally, but nodded in answer to his question.
"How did this happen?"
"We resolved our differences," I said diplomatically. "Sam and I found
that we have a lot in common."
Like being open to fake relationships and pretend kisses.
"He's been good to me so far."
"Really?" Dad said flatly.
"Hasn't made me cry once since we've been together," I said with a
smile.
Instead of laughing at my lame joke, his scowl only grew.
"And he's coming here for dinner?"
"Yes," I said. Before he could cut in, I added, "And I expect you to be
on your best behavior."
Dad scoffed.
"He's my friend, Dad. My boyfriend." Pretend, yes. But still my
boyfriend, I reasoned. I tilted my head. "You knew this day would come
eventually."
"Not so soon," he muttered, "and not with a guy who's already on my
list."
I sent him a frown. "What list?"
"My I-hate-him-already-and-will-kick-his-ass-if-he-hurts-my-daughter-
again list."
Biting back a smile, I said, "Good title. You really got it all in there."
Dad sighed then pulled me into a hug.
"Just be nice to him," I murmured. "Okay?"
"I'll try," he said back, "but no promises. Also, you will not leave this
house with Sam until he and I have had the talk."
I accepted his terms, knowing that was as good as it was going to get.
Sam had arrived a few minutes ago, and I met him at the door, led him
into the kitchen, introduced him once again to my Dad—who grunted 'hello'
in response—and since then, we'd all been in this terrible stalemate. My
father's steely glare was fixed on Sam, and a deep scowl was etched into his
face. It looked so strange because Leo Kent was not a scowler by nature.
Dad's go-to expression was an easy grin. But not tonight. The spaghetti
was getting cold. My palms were sweaty. But Sam looked cool as a
cucumber.
"It's nice to see you again, Mr. Kent," Sam said. "How have you been?"
Dad grunted.
"This dinner looks good."
No response.
"Are you still a big soccer fan? Scarlett's come to a few games since we
started dating."
My father's eyes settled on me briefly. "You don't like sports."
"I like them sometimes," I said with a sniff.
Sam gave me a small smile. "Knowing she's in the stands makes me
want to play better."
"Have you been to one of her performances?"
"Not yet," he said, "but I want to. She's always been amazing on violin
—and at everything she does."
My father went back to scowling at Sam as I furiously texted my sister
under the table.
Me: SOS! Send help immediately.
Charlotte: What's wrong???
Me: Dad's looking at Sam like he wants to rip out his entrails and wear
them as a hat.
Charlotte: That's…very descriptive.
Me: I'm serious! I need you to drive home now and break up this
dinner.
Charlotte: Why? Have knives been thrown?
Me: Not yet, but I could see it happening. SEND HELP, PLEASE!!!
My phone started ringing, and I saw Charlotte's picture on the screen.
Looking up, I glanced from Dad to Sam.
"My sister's calling," I announced though no one looked at me. "I'm just
going to step out for a second."
"Take your time," Sam said.
"Tell Charlotte I said hi," Dad said next.
"Are you sure you're okay?" I asked this of Sam, but he didn't look
freaked out at all by my Dad's death-glare.
"We'll be fine," Sam said.
 "Yeah, this will give us a chance to talk," Dad added. When I hesitated,
he said, "Go on, Scarlett."
"I'll be right back," I said then quickly walked into the living room.
It was far enough away that I wouldn't be overheard and close enough
that if anything really was thrown I could be in there in five seconds flat.
Dropping my voice, I picked up the phone.
"Are you on your way?" I asked.
"No," Charlotte said, "and I think you need to calm down."
"Okay, one, this isn't a freaking Taylor Swift song, and two, did you or
did you not hear me say that Dad's about to do major bodily harm to my
boyfriend?"
I heard her laugher through the phone and frowned.
"This is so not funny."
"Come on, Scar. You have to admit the whole situation is hilarious," she
said.
"I'll remind you of that when Dad is serving 15-25 years for voluntary
manslaughter," I whispered.
"You really need to lay off the true crime shows."
Sighing, I shook my head. "Seriously, what should I do? Dad hates
Sam."
"He doesn't hate him," Charlotte said.
"You didn't see the scowl he's wearing, Lotte."
"I bet it's the same one he put on for Bo. That's just how Dad shows he
loves us."
"I know, but…"
Charlotte waited patiently while I gathered my thoughts.
"I don't know why, but I want them to like each other," I said softly.
"I know why," she said. "Dad is one of the people you love most in the
whole world—along with me, of course. And whether you want to admit it
or not, I think Sam might be one of those people too."
I released a heavy sigh. "You and I both know this isn't real."
She was smiling. I could tell even through the phone.
"You just texted me in a panic over Dad un-aliving your fake
boyfriend," she said. "Feels pretty real to me."
"I should go and make sure they're okay," I said, shaking my head.
"Thanks."
 "No problem," she said. "Love you, sis."
"Love you."
I pocketed my phone then moved towards the kitchen. Charlotte and I
had talked longer than I thought. But I didn't hear anything that should
cause alarm. No screams or plates shattering. That had to be a good sign,
right?
When I got closer, I heard…
No, it couldn't be.
But as I finally made it inside, I saw Sam and my dad sitting just where
I'd left them. The only difference was the death-glare was absent. Oh, and
they were both laughing. Like full-on, grip your sides laughter. Was this
even the same kitchen?
"Hey," I said as I took a seat at the table. "What did I miss?"
"Nothing," Sam said with a grin, "your Dad was just telling me about
the time that you tried to make chocolate cake."
My cheeks heated. "I don't see what's so funny about that."
"She was seven, and she nearly burned down the house," Dad said, but
he threw me a fond smile. "We had to get a new oven and everything."
"I would've gotten better with practice."
Sam shot me a warm glance. "Everything gets better with practice.
Right, Kent?"
As he'd no doubt intended, my mind drifted back to our kissing lesson in
the parking lot, and I felt a tingling start in my lips.
"I guess," I murmured.
"Not Scarlett's cooking," my dad piped up, and I gaped at him. "Sorry,
kid, but you've tried a few dishes since then, and…well. You might want to
stick with music."
"Dad!"
"Ooh, burn," Sam said. "Pun intended."
"Nice one," Dad replied.
Looking between them, I frowned. "Ah, I see. You two are friends
now, huh?"
Sam shrugged while my father shoveled spaghetti into his mouth.
"And I was afraid to leave you together in case he scared you off with
the talk or ended you before I got back," I said.
 "Oh, I tried," Dad said, and I gave him a confused look. "I gave him the
talk, but for some reason, the kid smiled the whole time. Creepy if you ask
me."
Sam laughed. "I was impressed. Your dad's given me permission to use
the talk if I ever have a daughter of my own."
"Good to know," I mumbled.
"Sam, can you pass the bread?"
"Sure thing, Mr. Kent."
And on, it went.
By the time dinner was over, Sam and my father had established some
kind of weird bond. I mentioned it as I walked Sam out to the driveway.
But he just grinned.
"Your dad wants what's best for you," he said, stopping beside his car.
"I do too. On that, we agreed."
"Hmmm," I said. "So, the talk didn't scare you?"
"Are you kidding? It was terrifying."
I smiled a little at that. "I'll be sure to let my dad know."
Sam looked to the house where my father was not-so-discreetly peeking
out the window. He did the I'm-watching-you motion, pointing to his eyes
then at Sam without any hint of a smile. Catching Dad's eyes, I widened
my own, and after one last glare in Sam's direction, he moved away.
"Thanks for inviting me to dinner," he said.
"Thanks for meeting my dad and sitting through the talk," I said back.
Sam nodded. "Any time, Kent."
As he turned to walk away, I caught his hand in mine.
Sam looked back over his shoulder. "What's up?"
"Are you leaving?" I asked, hating how needy my voice sounded.
"Yeah," he said then grinned, "so are you."
When I shot him a confused look, he entwined our fingers.
"Already got the okay from your dad. He said we can go as long as I
have you back before midnight."
"It's a school night," I reasoned, "so we should probably shoot for
earlier."
Sam chuckled. "Only you would say that."
"No, I think a lot people would."
"Still, it was a very Scarlett Kent thing to say."
 The look in his eyes, the warmth in his voice made it sound like a good
thing.
"Well, where are we going?" I asked.
"You'll see," he said.
"What exactly are we going to do?"
"Have the best first date ever." He squeezed my hand. "Cross off an
item on your list and get some dessert. Just trust me, Kent. You ready?"
Sam, dessert, and a mystery date.
Yes, please.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 14

"Putt-Putt?" I asked.
"Hell yeah," Sam said as he joined me at the front of the car. "Are you
surprised?"
"Hmmm. Of all the places I thought you'd take me, golf never entered
my mind."
"Not golf, Kent," he corrected while shaking his head. "This is mini-
golf, golf's cooler, funner, more awesome cousin. I decided you need more
fun in your life."
"How thoughtful of you."
I bit my lip, gazing up at the sign that shined down on us. McIntyre's
Magical Mini-Golf. Part of the sign flickered in and out, making it look
like Mc's Magical Mini olf. I'd lived in Chariot, North Carolina my whole
life and never knew this place existed.
"Also," I said, "you know 'funner' isn't a word, right?"
"Tonight, it is." Sam threw me a grin. "Let's go choose our clubs."
His enthusiasm was infectious, and I found myself smiling before we
even got to our first hole.
"Nice choice," I said, gesturing to his hands.
"Pink is my lucky color," Sam said, tossing his ball into the air and
catching it with ease. He twirled the club in a circle. "Hope you're ready
for this, Kent."
I shrugged. "I haven't golfed before, but I should warn you. I'm very
competitive."
Sam's grin widened. "So am I."
Gripping my electric blue club, I shook out my shoulders. Was it bad to
beat your date at a sport he had chosen? Perhaps.
But there was no way I'd just let Sam win.
"I may or may not have brought you here to show off," he added.
"I'm serious, Bishop," I said. "This could get ugly."
"Bring it, Kent."
 Despite the cute fairies and woodland creatures surrounding us, the
game quickly became heated. Sam had already beat me in the first four
holes. It didn't even look like he was trying, which was crazy—and
suspicious.
"Are you cheating?" I demanded.
Sam gave me a mock-offended look. "I would never."
My eyes narrowed as I considered him. "You have to be. No one's this
lucky."
"It's the luck of the pink-ish," he said.
"That's not a thing," I said. "Luck of the Irish is a thing. But pink-ish?
No."
Sam shrugged, running a hand through his hair. "You say that, but the
proof is on the scorecard."
Rolling my shoulders back, I said, "Well, there are still 14 more holes,
Bishop. I wouldn't get too cocky."
"If I was down five strokes, I wouldn't either."
I nearly growled which made Sam's smile brighten.
"Hey, why don't we make it interesting?" he said.
"How would we do that?" I asked.
"For each hole we win, we get something."
"Like what?"
"A piece of clothing?"
I gave him a look. "Try again."
"Ooh, shot that down fast."
"It's a crazy idea."
"Not really," he said, "you've heard of strip poker, right? When you
think of it that way, strip mini-golf makes a lot of sense."
"Next," I said with a roll of my eyes.
Sam thought for a second then said, "How about a kiss?"
"That desperate to kiss me again?" I joked.
"Absolutely," he said, and honest to God, Sam's voice was so serious, I
couldn't tell if he was joking. After a second, though, he grinned.
I shook my head. "Moving on to option three."
"Okay, how about this? Whoever wins gets to ask a question. Kind of
like truth or truth."
 I crossed my arms. "You think you can handle it? I've been told I'm a
very nosy person."
"I can if you can," he said.
The challenge was obvious, and I couldn't back down. Now, I had an
added incentive to win. Questions were one of my favorite things. Sam
had just upped the stakes and sealed his fate, and he didn't even know it.
Grinning, I sent him a nod.
"Fine," I said.
"Fine," he said back, gesturing for me to putt first. "After you."
I couldn't deny it. The game got more exciting after that. My ball
seemed to understand the level of importance—that or my hate-to-lose
mentality kicked in—and I won the next hole. And the next. And the next.
I planned to keep winning, but Sam didn't seem worried. If he was upset by
the turn of events, he didn't show it. In fact, he looked downright pleased
when I asked my first question.
"Favorite food?" I asked.
Sam shot me a smile. "You already know the answer to that."
"It could've changed."
"Nope, warm chocolate chip cookies with milk. Same as it was back in
middle school."
I nodded, filing that away for later. "You can ask me a question if you
want."
"Okay," he said, "but just remember I get four from those early wins."
"I'm not sure those should count," I said. "Our agreement wasn't
reached until after the fact."
Sam shot me a look. "They count," he said in a voice that brooked no
argument. "Now, what's your favorite food?"
"It's a three-way tie between grilled cheese sandwiches with ginger ale
to drink, Chinese, and ice cream."
I lifted a brow as he laughed.
"Something funny?"
"I see yours haven't changed either," he said. "Good to know."
"Hmmm," I said, "speaking of which, you mentioned something about
dessert. Is that still happening?"
"Yeah, there's an ice cream shop next door. Thought we'd stop there
after we're done here. By the way"—Sam pointed at me—"you just used
your second question."
"Hey! That's not fair."
"Tell it to the magical one-eyed dragon that blessed our agreement back
at hole five."
I shook my head. "You're so weird."
"You love it," he said.
I do, I thought.
And I really hope you can't see how much.
Swallowing, I shook it off and got ready for my next shot.
"Whatever," I said. "Here's a question. Why do guys always throw the
word love around like it means nothing?"
"Guess we're done with the easy ones," Sam mumbled.
My ball soared forward landing only a few feet away from the target.
Giving him a shrug, I said, "Told you I was nosy."
"I can't speak for all guys." He placed his ball on the green turf meant
to look like grass, stood back up, and studied the area. "But love is a word I
heard a lot growing up. My parents said 'I love you' to each other and us
kids every day."
Sam took his time getting into position.
"I don't think you can use it too much, you know? It's not like there's
this finite amount of love in a person's heart, and once it's used up, it's gone.
You can always create more. It's one of the only things that really is
endless."
He swung, but as his ball sailed past, I couldn't tear my eyes off of Sam.
"Love should be said more often. Not less," he said. "That's just my
opinion."
As his eyes settled on me, I looked away in time to see his pink ball fall
neatly into place, disappearing into the earth. A hole in one.
"Nice shot," I murmured.
"Thanks," he said. "What do you think? About love?"
Clearing my throat, I turned back to face him and met his gaze. "I think
love is special, that it's rarer than everyone makes it out to be. I think some
people search all their life for true love and never find it."
Sam nodded. "What about I love you?"
Heart sparkles.
All the heart sparkles went off at hearing him say those words.