"I just wanted to thank you again for last night," I said, "and for the

offer to take me to school this morning. It was thoughtful of you."

"No problem," he mumbled, still not looking at me.
"I'd love to help you somehow."
When he didn't respond, I leaned in closer, stood on tiptoe, and
balancing myself with a hand on his shoulder, I placed a kiss against his
cheek. Did I linger a little longer than necessary? Maybe. But I wanted to
make sure I had his attention—and honestly, he smelled really good.
As I lowered back to my heels, Sam's eyes were on me. A range of
emotions played inside those gray-blue depths. Surprise. Confusion. And
a spark of something I couldn't name.
"What was that for?" he asked.
I shrugged. "Looked like you needed a distraction."
"And you're volunteering to be my distraction?"
Yes.
I'll be your anything.
Giving myself a mental shake, I refocused. This was so not the time for
my feelings for Sam to make an inconvenient reappearance. I was past that
now. It was just…
Something about the way he said those words made my cheeks fill with
heat.
Sam arched that brow of his, waiting for an answer, and I swallowed.
"Sure," I said. "Why not?"
"Interesting," he said.
"What is?"
"How out of all the ways you could've distracted me, you decided the
best way was a kiss."
"Technically, it wasn't a real kiss," I said.
"Agree to disagree."
"Hey, you kissed me first." I pointed out. "In the car last night."
"I wasn't complaining, Kent," he said.
"Oh."
"Was there something else you wanted?"
I gave him a nod. "There was."
"Okay then," he said, pushing off his locker with a grin. The move
brought our bodies within a breath of each other. I hadn't realized how
close we were until now. "What's up?"
"I need to ask you something."
"I'm listening."
Sam's scent was making it hard to think. When I went to take a step
back, I stumbled on air. But his arm shot out to grip my waist. The good
thing? I didn't fall on my ass. The bad? I was now surrounded by
everything Sam Bishop.
His hand on my waist burned.
His eyes stared into mine.
His breaths were so close I felt as much as heard his next words.
"You okay, Kent?" he asked.
"Yeah, I—"
A locker door slammed loud enough to make me jump. Turning toward
the sound, I watched Brisa's hair swish as she walked away. She was arm-
and-arm with Cooper, though instead of looking romantic, it seemed more
like she was pulling him along. Glancing back over my shoulder, I noticed
Sam was once again watching them.
"You know, if you keep staring," I said quietly, "she'll know you're still
in love with her."
His gaze snapped to mine. "What?" he said.
I shrugged. "It's written all over your face."
"I don't know what you think you see, Kent. But you're wrong."
"I'm hardly ever wrong, Bishop."
He cracked a grin. "Is that right?"
"It's a fact," I said.
Crossing his arms, Sam said, "You were going to ask me something."
I was momentarily distracted by what that did for his body.
Hello, biceps.
"Huh?" I said.
Sam looked like he was biting back a smile. "Before Brisa interrupted.
You were in the middle of saying something."
Again, I dismissed whatever strange pheromones he was throwing off.
This had nothing to do with attraction. It was about a partnership between
two people who used to be friends. Nothing more or less.
"Yeah," I said. "I mean, yes, I'd like to propose a deal. If you'll hear me
out."
 He nodded.
"It's more of a business proposition really. That's how I think we should
view this. I wrote down the main points, and as I'm sure you'll see, there
are a lot of benefits for both of us. I think if you read through—"
Sam held up a hand.
"Sounds good," he said.
I frowned. "But…you didn't let me finish. You don't even know what
we're talking about."
"That's true.."
"So, like I was saying—"
"But if you're about to ask me to be your list partner," he said, "I'm in."
I blinked.
Could it really be that easy?
Did Sam Bishop actually just offer to help me check off all the items on
my list?
Without even hearing my proposal?
I couldn't believe it.
And yet, my heart was doing a happy dance inside my chest.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 5

"You're in?" I repeated.

Sam nodded.
"Without reading my plan?"
"Yeah," he said.
"Without any questions or anything? You're just in?"
"Did I stutter, Kent?"
"No, but…"
"I thought you'd be happy about this." Sam ran a hand through his hair
as we walked down the hall. We didn't have the same first period. In fact,
my class was located at the other end of the building, but I still had time.
"Did you think I'd say no?"
I scoffed. "Even if you did, I'm very persuasive. I would've worn you
down eventually."
"No doubt," he said. "I don't see the problem."
He was right. I should've been happy. And yet…
As we stopped, I suddenly realized what was bothering me.
"How did you know?" I said. In answer to his questioning look, I
added, "That I would ask you. How'd you know?"
Sam gave a shrug. "After our talk, I figured you might."
I lifted a brow at that.
"Come on, Scarlett," he said. "You're a smart girl. I knew once you
thought it over you'd realize I'm the right guy for the job."
"Really?" I sniffed. "A little presumptuous. Don't you think?"
"You asked me, didn't you?"
"I did," I mumbled, "though in the face of your smug cockiness, I'm
currently reconsidering my decision."
With a grin, Sam said, "Too late. I already agreed."
I huffed.
"Besides, who else would you ask?"
I gestured to the crowded hallway. "Look around, Bishop. The
possibilities are endless. I could've asked literally anyone else."
 "Like who?" Sam said.
"I don't know," I replied, picking a random guy, standing a few feet
away. "Him, possibly."
"That guy?"
"Yeah. Why not?"
"Well, for one, he's a freshman," he said. "Name's Martin, plays on JV.
I was assigned to mentor him. Never knew you like them so young, Kent."
"Ha ha," I said then pointed to someone else. "That guy then. He seems
okay."
Sam nodded. "What makes you say that?"
"He's carrying an instrument case," I said with a shrug. "A fellow
musician. We might have some things in common."
"Hmmm, not unless you're into convicted criminals."
My eyes widened. "What the what?"
"That's PJ Manning."
"That's PJ?" I said back.
"Yep. In case you forgot, he was suspended last year for—"
"Breaking into the school and taking a poo on the principal's desk," I
finished. "I remember. I just didn't recognize him from the back."
"Wanna try a third option?" Sam asked, and I could hear the laughter in
his voice.
"Okay. How about him?" I said. "Quentin's a cool guy."
Sam frowned. "He is."
"I'm sure I could convince him to help with my list."
"I'm sure you could too."
I lifted my brows in triumph but then noticed Sam's lips were twitching.
"What's wrong with Quentin?"
"Nothing," he said with a shrug. "Pretty sure he just started dating
Dominique Fiorella, though."
My shoulders fell. "Really? When did that happen?"
"At the Banger brothers' party."
"Ah," I said.
"Yeah."
A beat of silence then…
"Were you secretly hoping I'd say no?" he asked.
"No, but…you didn't have to say yes so quickly."
 Sam's face remained blank, but his eyes held a hint of amusement as I
clutched my books tighter to my chest. The plan that I'd meticulously
written out rested on top. All those bullet points, the thought that went into
them—and Sam hadn't read a single word before agreeing. Humph.
"It wouldn't have killed you to skim the plan first," I mumbled.
His eyes brightened. "So, that's what this is about."
"What?"
"You're mad because I didn't read your ten-point plan."
I forced a laugh. "I'm not mad."
His eyes narrowed.
"I'm not," I repeated—then couldn't help but add, "And technically,
there are only five points."
Sam shook his head.
"Which you would know if you'd read the plan." I shrugged. "I
could've put anything in there, Bishop. Would've been smart to read it over,
get familiar with the terms, see if you had any concerns. Instead, I asked
the question, and you agreed. Just like that."
"Technically, you didn't ask," Sam said. "I volunteered."
True.
Though I still hadn't figured out why.
Maybe this was all part of his plan to…do what? Mess with my head?
Quick as lightning, Sam's hand shot out and grabbed one of the pieces
of paper resting on top of my books. I'd barely seen him move, too caught
up in trying to decipher his motives. I gaped at him as he gazed at the
sheet.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"I'll read it and get back to you," he said.
I remained calm on the outside, but inside, I was doing a victory dance.
"Only if you want to," I said.
Looking at me, seeing the smile I couldn't quite contain, Sam shook his
head again. "You're unbelievable, Kent."
"Thanks," I said. My phone alarm went off, and I pulled out my cell to
silence it. "I should get to class. Want to meet up after school?"
"I have practice," Sam said.
"Oh, that's right," I said, "and I have student council."
"Lunch?" he asked.
 "I usually hang out in the music room."
"Okay."
"We'll figure it out," I said as my second alarm went off. "See you later,
Bishop."
He raised a brow as I backed away. "You know, the school has a
warning bell."
I nodded. "Yeah, but my alarms are set for five minutes and four
minutes before that. Gives me extra warning."
"Always good to have a backup."
I couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not, so I just nodded.
"Might change my mind after reading the plan," he called after me.
"No, you won't," I replied. "And if you do, I'll convince you to change
it back."
As I waved and jogged away, his chuckle followed me, but it didn't
sound malicious. Sam wasn't laughing at my expense. Or at least, I didn't
think so.
Change his mind?
Yeah, right.
Sam had just as much riding on this as me—maybe more.
He was going to love the plan.
But just in case…
I began composing another list in my mind.

The final notes of my violin sang as I opened my eyes and looked to my

teacher and mentor, waiting for her feedback.
"So?" I asked. "What did you think?"
"That was beautiful, Scarlett," she said. "Truly. Just gorgeous."
I frowned, sensing the 'but' before it even came. Theresa Vander Mere
was honest to a fault. I'd been working with her, taking private lessons and
getting critiques, for years. Whenever she started out with excessive
compliments, it was because she wanted to soften the final verdict.
"I love your passion. But—"
And there it was.
"—can you tell me who composed that piece?"
 "I did," I said.
"Hmmm."
"Didn't you like it?"
"I loved it," Theresa said with a sigh. "I always love your compositions.
You know this."
I opened my mouth, but she lifted a hand.
"That's not the point. What about the pieces I gave you to practice?"
"Oh, I practiced the sheet music you gave me too. The songs, they're
amazing. I really like them. They challenge me technically, but…"
Theresa raised a brow. "Go on."
I shook my head. "Well, I feel like they've been done before. I've heard
them played a million times by a million different violinists."
"There's a reason for that," she said softly.
"I know," I said, "and I respect the classics. Really I do. I draw so
much inspiration from Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, Vivaldi. I just want to
play my own compositions too."
Theresa sighed. "Scarlett, we've been over this."
We had. It was a well-worn conversation we'd been having for a while
now, ever since I discovered my deep love for creating my own
arrangements.
"When you audition," she went on, "whether it's for a college program
or a professional orchestra, the people judging expect certain things."
I forced a laugh. "Maybe they'd appreciate something unexpected."
Theresa did not look amused. Her voice was deadly serious when she
said, "Trust me, I wish that were the case. But there's always at least one
person on the panel who thinks the only valid string pieces were composed
by men before the year 2000."
I shook my head. "That's not fair."
"You're right. It's not."
"But," I said before she could, "life isn't fair."
Theresa shot me a sad smile. "I hate that you know that already."
I sat back in one of the chairs with a shrug. "I learned that lesson early."
A brief image of my mother on the day she left flashed through my
mind. She'd been smiling, her hair blowing in the breeze, ready to set off
on a new adventure, a new life. My dad had begged her to stay while
Charlotte and I cried.
 "Anyway," I said, shaking it off, "it's not a big deal. I'll just play one of
the classics."
"If you get a contract," she said then shook her head, "when you do, the
music they play will be pieces like that. They want to make sure you have
the technique."
I nodded. "Then I'll just have to show them."
Theresa grinned as she reached forward and patted my hand. "I know
you'll wow anyone that hears you. You always do, Scarlett."
"Thanks, Miss T."
"Now, can I see what you've been working on?" she asked.
I lifted a brow.
"What? You're one of the most creative young people I know," she said.
"Those judges might only want to hear the old stuff, but I'm always looking
forward to what you'll come up with next."
Smiling, I handed her the sheet music I'd been working on. Theresa
really was open-minded. She genuinely appreciated my compositions, and
her feedback helped me shape the music and make it better. I also knew she
was right. Theresa wanted to give me the best shot at landing a job, to
fulfill my dream of playing violin professionally.
What I didn't tell her—though part of me thought she already knew—
was that my dream wasn't only to play.
I wanted to compose.
To created something that was totally mine.
Someday, I wanted an orchestra to play one of my pieces.
It might take a long time. The gatekeepers might laugh at me or cut me
down. But I was determined to try.
"Scarlett?" Theresa said, and as I looked over, I noticed she had an odd
expression on her face.
"Something wrong?" I asked.
"No, just wondering how you came up with this one."
"Which one? Is it the mashup of Drake and Bach?"
"Definitely more unique than that." Theresa looked at me with mirth in
her eyes. "Ricky Ballas, CJ Wallace, Nathan Tooks, Oz Portner, and Sam
Bishop?"
As she turned the page to me, I felt my cheeks heat up, seeing not music
notes, but the names she'd just read aloud staring back at me.
 "A very interesting composition."
Laughing with her, I took the sheet back and rolled my eyes. "It's
nothing," I said. "Just one of my many lists."
The bell rang, and Theresa stood.
"Okay, fine," she said, "lesson's over. You don't have to explain."
Thank goodness.
"But Scarlett, my love life, as you know, is nonexistent." Theresa got to
the door and turned back to me with a grin. "It's okay. Just like I'll always
support you as a musician, I also support your collection of boyfriends."
Right as she said that, Sam stepped through the door and lifted a brow.
"Hi," he said to me and then nodded at Theresa. "I'm Sam. I'm here for
Scarlett."
Theresa nodded. "Why hello, Sam. I'm Theresa, Scarlett's overly-
curious music teacher."
As he stepped farther into the room, she sent me a wink over his
shoulder.
"I'll leave you both to it," she said. "Bye, Scarlett. Have fun."
"Bye," I mumbled.
Looking to Sam, I shook my head.
"Great. Now, she probably thinks there's something going on between
us."
"What makes you say that?"
"Between the wink she just threw me, you showing up here, and my list
of names"—I released a sigh—"it's a good guess."
Instead of focusing on anything else I'd just said, Sam tilted his head.
"You made another list?"
I shrugged. "Yeah."
"What for?"
"Decided to take your advice," I said. "About always having a backup.
After our talk, I wanted to be prepared. I came up with a list of possible
alternates—none of them freshmen or criminals by the way—to help me in
case you say no."
Sam stepped forward.
"They're currently single. No girlfriends," I added.
"Can I see that?" he asked.
 "Sure." I handed him the paper, and Sam spared it a glance. "Any
feedback?"
"Yeah," he said—and before I could say another word, he crumbled the
list into a ball and threw it over his shoulder. "You don't need a backup,
Kent. You've got me."
Adding insult to injury, the paper sailed through the air before landing
perfectly in the wastebasket by the door. My eyes were glued to the place
where he'd thrown my now-ruined list of guys. The audacity. I was still
staring in disbelief as he placed a folded square in my hand.
"What's this?" I asked.
"My notes."
"Your what?"
"I read your plan," he said.
"And?"
He shrugged. "Looks good, but I had a few thoughts."
And he'd taken notes.
Which must mean he cared about this.
Right?
Trying to hide my surprise, I unfolded the paper and saw that Sam
wasn't kidding. He really had made several notes, some in the margins,
some at the bottom after the text. No particular section stood out—except
the word he'd written in all caps at the top. My brows furrowed.
"SCAM?" I said. "What the heck, Bishop? Why did you add that?"
"Because it's accurate," he said.
His answer made my frown deepen.
"You really don't get it?" Sam's lips pulled up into a grin as I shook my
head. "Scam. That's you and me, Scarlett and Sam."
"Oh!"
"Ironic, isn't it?" he said.
"Could be fate," I retorted. "Who knows? Maybe we were destined to
do this all along."
Sam gave me a dubious look, but I ignored it and continued reading his
notes. Unfortunately, I couldn't ignore the heart sparkles he'd awakened in
my chest. Sam had thought up a perfectly wonderful if slightly ironic
couple name for the two of us. Honestly, I was upset I didn't think of it
first. Yet the heart sparkles continued. What was this madness? Getting
back to business, I read his next comment.
"Beside Reasons Why You Should Say Yes," I said, "you wrote 'Need to
discuss.'"
"I did," Sam agreed.
I looked up with a shrug. "Well, the first one is pretty obvious. Good
karma. If you agree to assist with my list, you'd be helping out a former
friend."
"Former? I thought we covered this, Kent." His eyes were a clear
ocean blue today, and I tried not to get lost in them. "We never stopped
being friends."
"Okay then," I murmured and crossed out the word former. "You'll be
helping a friend. That better?"
Sam nodded. "Next?"
"Second, you have nothing to lose and everything to gain," I said.
"Debatable," he said.
"Not really, Bishop. There's a ton of pros and no cons that I can see."
"Just because you can't see it, doesn't mean it's not there. If you let
yourself care, you can always lose something."
"Geez, that's bleak."
Sam gestured for me to keep going, so I looked to the plan again.
"You'll win back Brisa, the girl of your dreams," I read aloud. "Again,
that one seemed obvious."
"Who says I want her back?"
My gaze snapped to his. "What?"
"I told you. We ended things," he said. "What makes you think I want
her back?"
Looking down, I saw that he'd written those exact words on the paper in
my hands. I thought about it then shook my head.
"I saw you guys in the hallway earlier," I said. "She was obviously
using Cooper to get a rise out of you. And you were staring at them with
this look on your face. Don't deny it, Bishop. You were upset."
"Yeah, but there could've been a ton of reasons for that," he said.
"Like what?"
"I don't know. Like my dog died."
 Chest tight, tears rising immediately to my eyes, I said, "Oh my God. I-
I didn't know. I'm so sorry."
"No, geez," Sam said, holding his hands out, "calm down, Kent. It was
just an example. We don't even have a dog."
Shaking my head, voice tight, I said, "Well, that was a terrible example."
"You're right."
"The worst ever."
"I know, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry."
"I'm not crying."
"Yeah." He reached forward, cupped my cheek, and gently ran his
thumb beneath my eye, capturing a tear that had managed to escape. "Must
be my mistake," he murmured.
My breath hitched at that soft touch. As he lowered his hand, I couldn't
help wishing he'd left it there a while longer.
"The point is," he said, "me being in a bad mood wasn't only about
Brisa."
"Then what was it?" I asked.
Instead of answering, he shrugged and said, "Hey, I been meaning to
ask. When did you delete my number?"
"Excuse me?"
"This morning, when we texted, you didn't know it was me." His laugh
sounded forced. "I know it's been a minute."
More like years, I thought.
"But I still have your number. Just wondered what I did to make you
delete mine."
"I never deleted it," I said.
Sam cocked a brow at that.
"A few summers ago, my old phone broke, so I had to get a new one.
Not everything transferred. I lost all my contacts. It sucked."
"Oh."
For some reason, the news of my broken phone made Sam's face
brighten.
"Sorry to hear that," he said.
"You don't sound sorry," I said.
Sam didn't even try to hide his grin, and I just shook my head.
"Anyway, let's get back to the plan."
 "Sounds good," he said.
"You'll also earn my (Scarlett's) undying gratitude." I paused in my
reading to look up. "That's priceless."
Sam gave a solemn nod.
"And you'll have someone to confide in who won't judge," I finished.
"We'll be in this together, Bishop."
"In a fake relationship," he said.
"Yeah."
"While we complete your list, and you help me win my ex back."
"That's right."
"And you don't find that even a little strange?"
I shook my head. "Nope."
"Can you run me through the steps of the plan again?" he asked.
So, I did.

Step 1: Fake it. Scarlett and Sam become the new "It Couple."
Step 2: Create Jealousy. Scarlett and Sam awaken Brisa's green-eyed
monster.
Step 3: R & R. Make Brisa regret letting Sam go and remember why
she fell for him.
Step 4: Second Chance. Provide an opportunity for a reunion/makeup.
Step 5: HEA.

"What's hea?" Sam asked.

"Happily ever after, of course," I said.
"Of course."
"The sarcasm is not appreciated, Bishop."
"I'll try to tone it down," he said, but I didn't believe that for a second.
"So?"
Sam cocked his head. "And if I said I'm not interested in Brisa? What
would happen then?"
"Well, that would ruin the whole plan," I said slowly, letting that sink in.
"She's integral to everything. My undying gratitude really is priceless—but
if Brisa's not part of the deal, I don't see what would be in it for you."
Sam stayed silent.
 "In that case, I guess you wouldn't have enough incentive to help with
my list, so I'd ask one of my backups. I don't know the other guys that well.
But like I said, I can be persuasive."
He grunted.
"That's all moot, though, because you do want to get back together with
Brisa," I said. "Don't you?"
A few moments passed.
Sam stared at me while I stared at him.
Until finally he said, "I told you before, Kent. I'm in."
"Okay," I said. "Me, too."
Stepping forward, I held out a hand.
"What's that?" Sam said.
"I figured we should shake on it, make it official," I said.
He cocked his head. "It's not really that kind of deal."
"I know. Just think, you get the girl, and I get my list. It's the best
sweetheart deal ever."
"I think we should kiss."
My eyes went wide. "What?"
Sam grinned at the look on my face—or maybe it was the shock in my
voice. I couldn't be sure. "I said, we should kiss. Feels more appropriate
than a handshake. All things considered."
"Okay."
"Really?" he said, and before I could talk myself out it, I nodded. "You
sure you don't want your first kiss to happen somewhere specific, like a
library or in front of a crowded stadium?"
"My sister's the one who loves libraries," I said past the lump in my
throat, "and I hate crowds."
"Come on, Scarlett. I bet you're one of those girls who's imagined their
first kiss a million times."
More than that.
"I know it's on your list. But are you sure you weren't saving your first
kiss for someone special?"
Lifting my chin, meeting his eyes, I said, "Just do it. Lunch is almost
over."
"So romantic," he said sarcastically, but when he wrapped his arm
around my waist and pulled me closer, placing the other hand against my
cheek, I shivered. "Don't worry, Kent. I've got you."
I knew he did.
That was what made me shiver.
"You ready?" he asked as he studied my face.
"Mmm-hmm."
Leaning forward, Sam stopped only inches away from my lips. "Sure
you don't wait for the one?"
Meeting his piercing stare, I reached up, curled my fingers gently
around the back of his neck and drew him even closer.
"I'm tired of waiting," I said quietly.
Sam swallowed. "I know what you mean."
Curiosity swept through me, but in the next second, he closed the gap
between us. His lips met mine. Sam Bishop kissed me, and I felt it in
every part of my body. Deeper than that. My soul sang with the rightness
of it as his mouth moved with mine. A symphony played in my ears and
raced through my blood as the kiss deepened. The first sweep of his tongue
drew a gasp from my lungs. When I kissed him back, Sam's quiet groan
was music to my ears. I felt lightheaded and fully awake for the first time
all at once. The kiss went on and on. I lost track of everything except that
kiss. The feel of Sam's broad shoulders beneath my fingers, the taste of him
on my tongue, the quiet sighs he made—oh wait, maybe that was me.
Time didn't exist.
Breathing could wait.
Because Sam, my Sam, was kissing me.
I never wanted it to end.
And honestly, it might've gone on forever…
…if someone hadn't walked in.
"Excuse me"—a throat cleared—"we're about to start class. You two
will have to take this little lovefest elsewhere."
Or make that several someone's.
When we broke apart, I finally came back to my senses, looking around
to find Mr. Petrie, the CHS band director, staring at Sam and me—along
with the entire Symphonic 2 Band. Petrie was the one who had spoken. He
was going for stern disapproval, but I thought I caught a hint of amusement
there.
"Did you hear me, Miss Kent?" he asked.
 "Um yes." I nodded then glanced at Sam, comforted to see that he
looked a little dazed as well. "Sorry about that, Mr. Petrie. We'll just go.
Bishop?"
"Right," Sam said then grinned and gave everyone in the room a salute.
"You guys have a good class."
There were more than a few giggles, and as we were leaving, I heard
one guy say, "Hey, wasn't that Sam Bishop and Scarlett Kent? When did
that happen?"
A few minutes before you guys walked in and caught us kissing like the
world was about to end, I thought and shook my head.
Despite what he'd said, the band director followed us out, making sure I
walked one way and Sam the other. We didn't even have time to talk, but
that was for the best. I needed a moment—or a few days—to process
everything.
We were doing this.
Sam signed on.
The plan was a go.
And I'd just experienced my first kiss—which, even with the way it
ended, was better than I could've dreamed.
And honestly, I did.
Dream of it, I mean.
Despite what I said—or didn't say—there was someone special. I would
likely never admit it to him. Chances were good I'd die of embarrassment if
I did. But Sam was right. I'd imagined my first kiss in a million ways, in
different places, different scenarios. But try as I might, even with my
overly active imagination, one thing remained the same. There was one
face that always came to mind.
His.
But the kiss wasn't real, I reminded myself.
We did it to seal our agreement and check an item off the list.
My mind knew this to be true.
But my heart still shot off sparks when I thought of Sam.
And the kiss that awakened a symphony in my soul.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 6

Later, I would tell myself, it couldn't have been that amazing.

Sam Bishop wasn't some kind of kissing virtuoso. His lips weren't
magic. He didn't make my soul sing. This was all normal. A side-effect of
waiting so long and yearning forever to be kissed. It had nothing to do with
the guy himself. I could've kissed anyone, and this would be the end result.
I'd recover once the effects wore off. Everything would be fine.
There was no way Sam altered my brain chemistry with one kiss.
Right?
Wrong.
I moved through the rest of the day on autopilot.
Teachers called on me in class, and I responded. I heard my name
spoken in the hall and waved in that general direction. But I wasn't really
there.
My mind was back in that music room.
My body was still wrapped up in his.
And despite my best efforts, no matter how hard I tried to fight the truth,
I was filled with a deep sense of certainty. I just knew.
My lips would never forget Sam Bishop.
I had yet to decide if this was a good or bad thing.
Probably a bit of both. Good because I had an unforgettable, heart-
melting first kiss. Bad because this might make it harder to keep things
professional. But it had to be done. My arrangement with Sam wasn't
some open door to try and win his affection. It was a business deal. One
where the stakes were clear: he'd win back the ex he was still in love with—
and I'd get to experience all the things on my list in a safe, controlled
environment.
True love wasn't an option.
In fact, it was one of the main no-no's in fake relationships.
I knew this.
I didn't include it in the plan—but only because it was so obvious.
Maybe that was a mistake?
 Shaking my head, I strode forward, putting one foot in front of the other.
It was a beautiful day. Sunny with a light breeze, nothing but blue skies and
fluffy clouds as far as the eye could see. The walk was supposed to help
clear my head.
And it did.
Kind of.
The more distance I put between myself and Chariot High—and a
certain guy—the easier it became to focus. I mean, yeah, the kiss still
played on repeat in my mind every five seconds. But at least I wasn't
stumbling into walls (yes, that happened. Thankfully, there were no
witnesses). In my last class, I'd received a text.

Your car is ready for pick up.

Colton's Auto Service Center was the best in town.

Luckily, it was also only a couple miles from CHS.
I stopped in front of the building. Brick walls painted black. A lot
packed with cars. The garage doors were open, and light music drifted
through the air, barely discernable above the other sounds coming from
inside. Business was clearly booming.
None of that made me pause.
Sure, it would've been nice to go home, flop on my bed and daydream,
spend the rest of the day reminiscing about my first kiss.
But I had to get my car.
Which was currently in there.
The only problem: Colton was Colton Bishop, Sam's dad.
I'd met Mr. Bishop a couple times in passing.
But that was before I agreed to fake date his son.
Before the kiss.
Just…before.
School let out a while ago, and I was suddenly filled with nerves.
Was soccer practice over?
Was Sam in there now?
If so, was he obsessing over the kiss as much as me?
Did it mean anything to him?
Why was it so important that the last answer be yes?
 And one final, totally-ridiculous-yet-crucial, question swirled in my
mind. Regarding the kiss… Was it too early to ask for a repeat
performance?
Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the lobby—and felt my shoulders
relax.
Despite the cars and flurry of activity in the garage, this room was
empty. No Sam then. I wasn't sure how to feel. Part of me was relieved,
but the other part felt somewhat deflated. I wasn't really ready to face him
again—and yet, I wanted to see him more than anything.
Charlotte was right, I thought.
Kissing really does mess with your brain.
"Can I help you?" a voice said from behind the desk, and I startled.
"Uh yeah, hi," I replied. "Sorry, I didn't know anyone else was here."
"That's okay. Everyone says I'm short, but my parents told me I should
hit a growth spurt soon."
When I walked closer to the desk and finally caught sight of the speaker,
I smiled. The boy couldn't have been much older than 10. He was seated
behind the desk computer which was why I hadn't seen him. Dark brown
hair with natural hints of blond, light blue eyes, and naturally pink cheeks.
He was in a word: adorable. And he was dressed like a mechanic,
backward baseball cap affixed to his head, a flannel shirt over a dirty white
tee, and jean overalls. In front of him, he had a set of wrenches he seemed
to be polishing.
"How tall are you?" he asked.
"About 5' 6''," I said.
"Oh, I'm going to be much taller than that."
"Really? How do you know?"
"Well, my dad is," he said proudly. "And I plan to be six foot three just
like my big brother."
"What if you stop growing before then?" I asked.
"I never thought of that. Man, that would suck."
I shrugged. "Only if you wanted to play basketball."
"I do," he exclaimed. "That's in my top 10 favorite jobs."
"Oh. Well, you've still got time."
He gave me a dubious look. "When did you stop growing?"
 "At about 15—unfortunately. But I'm still hoping for a couple more
inches. They say yoga might help. Too bad I'm terrible at it."
"Well, that sucks," he said. "About the yoga."
Before I could answer, the small door on the right opened and a new
voice joined in, "Stop saying suck so much, Bennet. It's not nice."
"Relax, Betty." The boy rolled his eyes at the girl who took a seat on
the stool beside him. "Mom and Dad aren't here, so I can say whatever I
want."
"Not in front of customers," the girl said back then gave me a brilliant
smile. "Hello. What can we do for you?"
"Um…"
I stared at the two kids who were obviously twins. The little girl's hair
may have been longer and set in two long braids. But other than that, they
were mirror images of each other down to the rounded cheeks and
mischievous eyes.
"Are you here for pick up?" she asked.
Nodding, I said, "Yes, I am. My car broke down the other night, so I
had to get a tow."
"Were you by yourself?"
"Yes."
She gave me a sympathetic look. "That sucks."
I nearly laughed as her brother rolled his eyes; his sister's blatant use of
the word she'd just told him not to say wasn't lost on any of us. But I was
starting to wonder if any adults actually worked here.
"Which car's yours?" the boy asked.
"The blue Mazda," I said.
The girl made a few clicks on the computer. "Scarlett Kent?" she asked.
"That's me."
"I love your name. It's so pretty."
"Thank you," I said. "I love yours too. Betty has always been one of
my favorites, especially Betty White."
She blushed prettily at the compliment. "Thanks, I was named after my
mom's oldest friend."
"That's awesome."
"Yeah, she's 99 now."
I blinked in surprise.
 "That'll be $10,000," she added.
"What?!?" I squeaked. "That can't be right. I only got a tow and a new
alternator."
"It says so right here."
The boy shrugged. "The cost of labor is up these days."
"Parts too," she added.
"Tough break, Scarlett."
I sputtered, but Betty talked right over me. It was clear she was the
more devious of the two. With a carefree smile, the girl held her hand out
and said, "Will that be cash, check or credit card?"
Speechless, I stood there staring at them until a man walked in, spotted
the two kids, then shook his head. I recognized him immediately. Even if I
hadn't, I would've known who he was by his strong resemblance to Sam.
"What are you guys doing?" Mr. Bishop asked.
"Nothing," they said in unison.
He gave the two a long, hard look. "Right. And what did I tell you
about pretending to work here?"
Betty sighed. "This is a business not a playground," she said.
"Don't pull pranks on the customers," Bennet added then mumbled,
"even if it is fun."
Mr. Bishop gave them a nod. "Now, shouldn't you two be doing
homework? I know your mom will want to check it later. You can go in
my office."
They nodded, but just before they left, Betty poked her head back out.
"Bye, Scarlett," she said. "Sorry about the prank."
"It's okay," I said, unable to resist those puppy-dog eyes.
Bennet stuck his head back in next. "I hope you get better at yoga," he
said.
I laughed. "Thanks. Probably won't happen, but I appreciate it."
After a moment, they closed the door, and Mr. Bishop came forward.
"Sorry about that," he said and ran a hand through his hair.
The move was so like the one I'd seen Sam do a hundred times I
couldn't help but stare. Besides the piercings in his ears, eyebrow, and lip—
Did that hurt? I wondered—Colton looked like an aged-up version of his
son. Ocean blue eyes apparently ran in the family. As he stepped up to the
counter, I got a better look. So, this is what Sam will look like in about 20
years, I thought. Still gorgeous, still a total heartbreaker. Oof.
"My kids aren't…actually no, they're always crazy."
"We're not crazy," a voice called from behind the closed office door, but
Mr. Bishop just said, "Homework. Now." And then, there was silence.
He gave me an apologetic shrug.
"Again, sorry," he mumbled. "Sam was never like this."
"They're not so bad," I said, and when he gave me a disbelieving look, I
laughed. "Okay, they did freak me out a little. But it's fine."
"They like to tell people it costs sky-high amounts just to see their eyes
bug out."
I nodded. "I run a mentoring program, so I'm used to being around
kids."
"How much did they tell you?" he said.
"$10,000," I replied. "For a tow and alternator. Oh, and the high cost of
labor and parts."
Mr. Bishop chuckled. "Nice touch."
"It did up the believability factor," I said.
"What's your name?"
"Scarlett Kent."
"Ah, so you're Scarlett."
My eyes widened, wondering what he meant.
"My son, Sam, mentioned you'd be coming in," he added.
"Oh," I said and tried to play it cool. "Did he say anything else?"
"No."
I exhaled and shook my head. What had I expected? Sam didn't seem
the type to kiss and tell—or to pick up a girl in the middle of the night,
drive her home, and then agree to be her list partner. Even if he did, it
wasn't like he'd tell his parents about it.
"He called you a friend." Mr. Bishop sent me a small half-grin. "Also,
said you were pretty."
"He did not," I said.
Mr. Bishop nodded. "He did."
"Well, he obviously just said that to be nice."
"That doesn't sound like Sam," he said. "My son doesn't say things he
doesn't mean."
 As if he'd heard, the door opened behind me and in walked Sam. His
hair was slightly wet as if he'd just taken a shower. He looked a little
flushed as if he'd been running—which he probably had during practice. I
didn't think I'd seen anyone look so good in sweats and a t-shirt.
"Hey," he said to me, "you're here."
"Yep," I said.
To his dad, he lifted his chin. "What were you guys talking about?"
Mr. Bishop threw his son a smile. "Nothing much, just getting
acquainted."
When Sam looked to me, I said, "Your dad was just telling me how you
called me pretty."
"He was?" Sam said.
I nodded.
"Well, then he lied."
My heart fell a bit, but I forced a laugh. "I knew it."
"I said you were beautiful," he said, shrugging like it was nothing, just a
fact. "Come on, Dad. You gotta get the facts right."
"My mistake," Mr. Bishop said, grinning full on now.
"The fumes from the garage must be getting to you."
"Must be."
Sam turned to me and ran a hand through his hair. "Did you need me
for something? Or just here to get your car?"
I cleared my throat. "Actually, there was something I wanted to talk to
you about."
The sound of the printer whirred, and a moment later, Mr. Bishop
pushed something across the counter to me.
"I'll take that as my cue," he said with a nod. "Here's your bill—with
the real total. Sam, if you'll finish checking Scarlett out, I'll get someone to
pull her car around."
"Sure," Sam said with a nod.
"It was nice seeing you, Scarlett."
"You too, Mr. Bishop. Thanks," I said. As he disappeared back into the
garage, leaving Sam and I alone in the lobby, I looked away and tried not to
wince as I caught sight of the bill. "Well, at least, it's not 10k," I mumbled.
Amusement was clear in Sam's voice as he said, "Ah, sounds like you
met the twins."
 "Yeah, they're adorable but a little devious."
"Only a little?"
I looked up with a shrug and passed him my credit card. "I like Betty
and Bennet—even if they did try to swindle me."
"Yeah, everyone does," Sam said. "They're too cute for their own
good."
I shot him a look.
"What?"
"Must run in the family," I said.
Sam shook his head. "I'll take that as a compliment."
"Please don't."
He released a quiet laugh then looked at the bill and frowned. "Hey, are
you okay to cover this? I didn't know it would be that much."
"I'm fine," I said.
"Because I can work overtime, ask my dad if he'll give you a discount
—"
"No, but thanks." I tried to sound lighter than I felt. Money wasn't a
sore subject. But with the normal expenses, my sister in college and me
preparing to go, it wasn't something my family just had lying around either.
"I've been saving up for a new bow. It will put me back a little, but that's
why I have a job."
"Oh yeah?" Sam asked. "Where do you work?"
"At the diner by the highway," I said. "Plus, my cousins and I have a
performance coming up."
"You gonna get paid this time?"
"I hope so."
He nodded. "Okay, if you're sure…"
"I am."
Sam ran my card then handed me a receipt. "You said you wanted to
talk?"
"Yeah, I've been thinking about what happened earlier. In the music
room."
"Me too," he said.
"Really?" Realizing I sounded way too curious, I brought my voice
back down to regular volume. "Anyway, I thought about it and decided
that, from here on out, we should try to keep things more professional."
 Sam crossed his arms. "Professional?"
"Well, it was kind of unplanned," I said.
He cocked a brow.
"The kiss, I mean."
"I knew what you meant," he said.
"I just thought we should bring back some order."
He tilted his head. "And how would we do that?"
"We stay focused," I said. "No more flying by the seat of our pants.
I've divided up the list, and I figure if we complete three or four items a day,
we can accomplish our goals in a timely manner."
"Sounds fun," Sam said.
I nodded. "I'm glad you agree."
He made some noise in the back of his throat, but I didn't know what it
meant. Seeing my car pulling up outside, I tucked the receipt in my pocket.
"So, we stick to the plan," I said. "No more kissing. Everything will be
good."
Sam's mouth opened, but before he could respond, a squeak sounded
then the office door opened, revealing Betty and Bennet.
"You guys kissed?" Bennet said, sounding equal parts shocked and
disgusted. "Gross."
"Not how I'd describe it, bud," Sam said then turned to me. "How about
you, Kent?"
"It was…definitely not gross," I said, trying and failing to fight back a
blush.
Sam laughed quietly while Betty cocked her head at me.
"Why are you blushing?" she asked.
Because I'm embarrassed. And I have a feeling Sam knows just how
"not gross" I found his kissing abilities.
"Is it because of the kiss?"
"No," I said. "It's hot in here."
"I'm good," Sam said.
"Me too," Bennet said.
"Anyway," Betty cut in, "what's swindle?"
"It's when you try to cheat someone out of their money," Sam said
sternly. "Basically what you and Bennet do on a weekly basis and why Dad
won't leave you alone in here."
 "Oh—but we never really take the money."
"Yeah," Bennet said, "we're just joking. Not swindling."
"We'll let the courts decide," Sam said.
"Well, bye," I said with a wave, sliding out the door as the twins started
talking over each other. Was I trying to make a quick escape? Yes. But
could you blame me? The twins were way too inquisitive, and Sam's
knowing gaze seemed to follow me as I walked away.
I'd just gotten into my car, was about to drive off, when the passenger
door opened. Sam slipped into the seat and shut the door like it was the
most normal thing ever. Which it definitely was not.
"Did I forget something? I asked.
"No," he said.
"Okay, then why are you here?"
"You never let me answer."
My brows furrowed.
"I disagree with what you said."
I crossed my arms. "Which part?"
"All of it," he said. "Or at least, most of it. I think we should just go
with the flow."
"But—"
"If we don't, no one will buy it," he said.
"So, you think we should just play everything by ear?" I asked.
"Yes and no."
I waited for him to continue.
"We go by your list," he said with a wave of his hand. "However many
items you want a day, but we do what comes natural. This is supposed to be
a relationship, right?"
"Yeah."
"Well, no one will believe us if we don't act like a couple."
I laughed, couldn't help it. "It almost sounds like you want to kiss me
again."
"Yeah, that might happen." I choked as he added, "Unless you're totally
opposed."
Taking a deep breath, I tried to think about this rationally even if my
brain was currently mush. "I'm not opposed, but…aren't you scared?"
"Of what?" Sam said.
 "Catching feelings," I said. "If we don't set concrete ground rules,
someone might get hurt."
He grinned. "Oh, I get it. You're scared of falling in love with me."
"You wish."
"You sound scared, Kent."
"Oh please," I said with a scoff. "You'll fall in love with me before I
ever fall for you."
"Then I guess, we have nothing to worry about," he said.
"Absolutely nothing."
"So we're good?"
"We're perfect," I said.
"Good." Sam's brow furrowed as he looked to my stereo. "What are
you're listening to?"
I lifted my chin. "It's a romance novel."
"One of your favorites?"
"Maybe," I said while the scene in my audiobook got increasingly more
passionate. It had started immediately when I got in the car, syncing with
my phone and picking up right where I'd left off. The romance had been
playing the whole time in the background, not that I'd noticed. I was too
distracted by the guy in front of me. "Need anything else, Bishop?"
"Nope," he said, opened the door and got out of the car. "Enjoy your
book, Kent."
"Oh, I will."
"See you tomorrow."
"See you then," I said.
As I pulled out of the lot, I could see Sam in the rearview mirror. It
looked like he was smiling, but I wasn't sure if it was because of the
audiobook or the fact that he'd gotten his way. One thing I did know: I
could not allow myself to fall for Sam Bishop.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 7

"Hey, Scarlett," Dad said.

I paused, lowering my bow and violin. "Yeah, Dad?"
"Not that I don't love listening to you play, but have you checked the
time? If you don't leave soon, you might be late for school, and I know
how much you hate that."
I did.
I'd just hit snooze on my alarm—again.
But playing violin was my stress relief. It was one of the only things
that relaxed me, soothed my soul, and cleared my head, especially when
there was a lot on my mind. I'd been at it for hours. Last night, I'd started a
new arrangement, and in the morning, I picked it up again.
The piece was looking good.
My head? Not so much.
"Is everything okay?" Dad asked after a moment.
Hearing the worry in his voice, I packed up my violin and opened my
door with a smile. "Sure," I said, "everything's awesome. Why wouldn't it
be?"
"I don't know. You've been playing a lot."
"Define a lot."
Dad raised a brow.
"Ah, you know how it is," I told him while grabbing my backpack.
"Yami Yami and I just needed to spend some quality time together."
"Hmmm," he said, "and you're not stressed about anything?"
Besides seeing my fake boyfriend again and somehow convincing his ex
and the entire school that we're madly in love? Oh yes, and doing all that
without letting my heart get involved?
"Nope," I said.
He followed me to the front door, not saying a word. But I knew there
was more on his mind.
"Are you stressed?" I asked, turning to face him. "Because that's the
vibe I'm getting. Maybe transferring a little of what you feel onto me. We
learned about that in psychology."
Dad chuckled. "I'm only worried about you, kid."
"I love you, Dad," I said. "But I'm good."
"Okay," he said and gave me a hug. "I know it's weird with your sister
being out of the house. But just know, I'm here if you need me. For
anything."
I cocked my head. "Anything? What if I want to talk about normal
teenage stuff?"
Dad opened his arms. "I'm up for hearing all the gossip, who's hooking
up with who, whatever."
My nose scrunched. "One, never use the phrase 'hooking up' again in
my presence. Two, you hate gossip."
"I'll gladly listen for you."
"What if I wanted to talk about the cute guy in my chemistry class?"
"Fine—but if you decide to date him, you'll have to invite him over so
he and I can have the talk."
"You and the talk," I grumbled.
"It's not so bad," he said.
"Really? Lotte said Bo was horrified afterward."
Dad smiled. "Glad to hear it."
"What if I want to talk about female issues?"
His smile dropped just like I'd hoped it would.
"My period, heavy flow, stuff like that," I added, biting back a laugh
when he winced.
"Well, I'm not sure," he said. "Growing up in a house full of brothers
didn't exactly equip me with the right knowledge. We might want to get
your aunts Sally or Lillian on the phone for those. Or maybe Grandma
Kent could—"
"Kidding," I said and walked toward my car. "I'll ask Charlotte or the
cousins or even Google if I've got questions about that. No worries, Dad."
"Thank God," he murmured.
I waved goodbye, got in my car, and laughed all the way to school.
Once there, though, I wasn't laughing anymore. This was it. Time to
implement stage one of the plan.
Becoming the new 'It' couple didn't seem too hard in my mind.
 But what did I really know about relationships? I'd never had a
boyfriend. Never been on a date. Never been kissed before yesterday.
This could all crash and burn.
But then how would Sam ever get Brisa back?
And how would I complete my list?
These were the doubts that plagued me last night. But it was a new day.
Another thing I'd never been: a quitter.
Sam and I would just need to be on our game to pull this off.
Speaking of which…
I sent Sam a quick text to make sure we were on the same page.
Me: Hey, you ready to unveil our couple status to the world?
His reply came a few seconds later.
Sam: I was born ready.
Me: So cheesy.
Sam: Would we call that cheesy…or adorable?
Me: Annnd now, he's calling himself adorable.
Sam: You're right. I prefer your word. Stunning. Let's go with that.
I swallowed then sent him another text to keep us on track.
Me: Okay, so here's the plan. When we see each other, we have to
make it good. Swoon factor at 100%. Heart-eyes, romance, all that. I don't
know exactly what should happen. But you have to look really happy to see
me and vice versa. Got that, Bishop?
Sam: I'm always happy to see you, Kent.
I smiled.
Me: See? That's the kinda thing you should save for an audience. Very
sweet.
Sam: I'm not sweet.
Me: Debatable.
Sam: And hey, I thought we were going to go with the flow.
Me: We will.
Sam: Am I allowed to kiss you?
My heart flipped as I read his last text.
Six little words.
One innocent question.
There was no reason the organ in my chest should respond at all.
But it did.
 Despite this, I forced myself to relax. He just wanted clarification, and
that was a good thing. I could be nonchalant and cool too.
Me: If you want.
Sam: Ok. And just so you know, you can kiss me.
I swallowed.
Sam: If you want.
Good lord, he was sexy and sweet. A lethal combination.
I sent a thumbs-up in response, then felt like an idiot, and followed it
with a heart—which I immediately wondered if I should've sent.
Too late now.
Taking a deep breath, I got out of the car and strode toward the main
building. So what if I was nervous? That never held me back before, and it
wouldn't now. I was going to approach this like I did everything. Give it
one hundred percent, hold nothing back, and hope for the best.
"Hey, Scarlett," Daphne Gomez said when I walked in the door. We'd
known each other since grade school. She was a member of pep squad and
also the person you went to if you wanted the latest dirt on anyone. "I
heard you and Sam Bishop are dating. Is that true?"
Fake dating, I mentally amended, then nodded.
"Yeah, it is," I said.
"Oh, cool." She smiled. "A bunch of people are saying you got caught
making out yesterday in the music room."
I startled. "People are talking about that?"
Daphne nodded. "But you know, I always like to get confirmation from
the source."
"It was just a kiss," I said.
"So, that's true too?" Her eyes went wide. "Wow, Scarlett, I didn't think
you had it in you. Stealing Brisa's guy right after they break up? You're
ruthless."
"Hey, I didn't steal anyone."
"Tell that to Brisa. I heard she was pissed."
"Really?"
Another nod.
Huh. This might be easier than I thought.
As Daphne walked off, Wyatt Ward sauntered up to me and said, "Hey,
Scarlett. Long time no see."
 "Yeah," I said slowly. The whole interaction confused me, mainly
because we'd had classes together nearly every day for the past four years.
But this was the first time Wyatt, wide receiver on the Chariot High football
team, bothered to talk to me. "What's up, Wyatt?"
"You and Bishop. When did that happen?"
"It's pretty recent. Why?"
"No reason," he said. "But hey, you want to go out sometime?"
I turned to face him with a frown. "I just said I'm with Sam."
He shot me a grin. "Yeah, but it's not like that's going to last. Right?"
Wyatt shrugged.
"If he dumped Brisa for you, I figured you might be worth getting to
know. You know?"
"No," I said, "I definitely don't know. And Sam didn't dump Brisa
because of me. Not sure where you heard that. But it's false."
"Whatever you say," he said then lifted his chin. "See you around,
Scarlett."
"I hope not," I mumbled.
Two people blocked my path then, and they looked giddy with
excitement. Grayson and Alexandria didn't waste a second.
"What the what, Scarlett?" Grayson said.
"Don’t even try to throw us off the scent," Alexandria said next. "It's all
over school. Scam."
I tensed. "What did you just say?"
"Scam," she repeated.
"Heck yeah, Scam," Grayson said with a wink. "You and Sam. It's all
anyone's talking about."
My breath released on a long exhale. "Oh right, our couple name."
"Your awesome couple name—which means you two are a couple?"
Grayson gestured for me to hurry up and answer. "I can't wait all day,
Scarlett. This is need-to-know info."
"Don't be nice to her, Gray." Alexandria sniffed. "She obviously doesn't
consider us friends, or she wouldn't have kept this from us yesterday."
"I didn't keep it from you," I said. "Sam and I weren't even together
then."
"But you're together now?" Grayson put in.
 "If you can't tell your locker neighbors, who can you tell?" Alexandria
added. "Is Scam real or not?
"It's real," I said, rationalizing that Scam was indeed a real thing—even
if that thing was an agreement between two people to pretend.
While Grayson whooped and danced around, Alexandria gave me a
small smile.
"Good for you," she said.
"Good for Sam," Grayson added. "Oh, I'm so glad he won't be sad
anymore. And I love Brisa—who doesn't?—but I love you just as much.
Yay for Scam."
"Thanks, guys," I said.
Alexandria cocked her head in thought. "We're your best friends,
Scarlett. You can tell us things, you know."
"Especially when they have to do with hot soccer players," Grayson put
in then turned to Alexandria. "But best friends? That's a bit of a stretch."
"You think?"
"We never hang out, never talk outside of school."
"Well, we're at least friendly," she said.
"Maybe hallway pals?"
"That's dumb."
"Friendly acquaintances?" I tried.
"We're more than that," Grayson said with a scoff. "We've gone to
school together for four years. How about…casual friends?"
Alexandria sniffed. "Sounds like the three of us are in an open
relationship, and we're you're wives."
I laughed at the look on Grayson's face. "It does kind of sound like
that," I said.
"Ew," he said.
"I second that ew."
"Neither one of you are my type either," Alexandria said.
"How about just friends?" I said.
Grayson gave me a nod. "That sounds good."
"Much better," Alexandria agreed then glanced at something past my
shoulder. "Oh look, here's your boyfriend now."
"Hey, Kent," a voice said behind me.
 My "just friends" backed away, but they didn't go far. Alexandria and
Grayson weren't the only people watching either. I could see several
students and a few teachers had paused to watch the interaction between
Sam and me.
This was it.
Phase one of the plan.
When I turned, I was ready, in the zone, the fake romance zone that is.
But then I got a look at Sam. He was smiling extra wide, and his eyes
were round too, like a cartoon. My own expression nearly faltered, but I
shook it off and stayed in character, as I rushed to close the gap between us.
Keeping my smile, I lowered my voice so only he could hear.
"What's wrong with your face?" I whispered.
"What do you mean?" Sam said, still smiling way too big.
"You look crazy. Stop that."
"Do I?"
"Your teeth are blinding everyone in a mile radius," I gritted out. "For
goodness sake, Bishop, tone it down a notch."
"But I'm really happy to see you," he said.
With a sigh, I shook my head. "Too much, far too many teeth."
Sam's face went back to normal in the next breath. "This better?"
"Yes, much," I said.
"Hey, it was your idea to bust out the heart eyes," he said.
I lifted a brow. "I believe I said to look happy."
"Really happy."
"Okay, but the goal is to convince people we're in love," I said, "not
scare small children."
Sam laughed, but movement behind him caught my attention. Brisa was
walking arm-and-arm with Cooper down the hall. They were coming this
way. My eyes widened, and I looked back at Sam with urgency.
"Pick me up and spin me around," I said.
"Huh?" Sam said.
I put my hands on his shoulders and tried not to shiver as his hands went
around my waist in response.
Confession: The attempt failed.
"Brisa and Cooper at 12 o'clock," I whispered as pleasurable shivers
raced up and down my spine. "Pick me up and spin me. Like we're
reuniting after a long time apart."
"You think that's realistic?"
"I think it's romantic."
Sam looked unconvinced.
"Come on, Bishop," I said quickly. "Spin me. They're almost here.
You're supposed to be my boyfriend. Right?"
He met my eyes and gave me a soft, genuine smile so unlike the one
he'd been wearing before. "Anything for my girlfriend," he said.
Then I was flying.
Or at least it felt that way.
I gasped as Sam lifted and turned with me in his arms. This wasn't on
my list, but for the life of me, I couldn't figure out why. It was wonderful.
Sam's hands were warm on my waist, and butterflies danced in my stomach
as I clung to his neck.
"Oh yeah," he said into my ear, "this is much more believable."
"Whatever, Bishop," I said unable to hold back a breathless laugh.
Round and round, we went, and when he finally set me down, I felt
unsteady.
"I think you should leave the romantic gestures to me," he said.
"Not a chance," I replied. Looking around, I didn't see Brisa anywhere.
The crowd of onlookers began to disperse, and there weren't as many
people left in the hall. But she had to have walked by us. "Did Brisa see?"
"Don't know," he said. "Your hair was in my face."
"Sorry."
"Don't be. It was nice."
Brow furrowed, I gave him a look.
Sam just shrugged. "You have nice hair."
"You still say the most random things," I said, thinking back to when we
were younger.
"You're random," he replied.
"And come up with the lamest insults."
"You're the lamest."
"Thank you for proving my point."
Residual dizziness hit me then. All those circles had apparently gotten
to me. My hand went to my forehead—but a second later, Sam pulled it
away, holding my palm between his own and examining it with a frown.
 "What happened?" he said, sounding suddenly serious.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"To your hand."
I followed his gaze down and tried to see what he saw. Rough
callouses, a few cuts, fingertips reddened.
"Who did this?" he said.
I shook my head, startled by the intensity in his voice. "No one," I said.
"I just played my violin for hours last night and this morning."
My breath caught as his touch slowly glided across my palm and along
my fingers.
"My left hand always looks like that after I practice too long."
"Looks terrible," he said.
Embarrassed, I went to tug my hand away, but before I could Sam
brought my hand to his lips. Slowly, one by one, he placed a soft kiss on
each of my fingertips. It was like he had all the time in the world. Like we
weren't in public. Like it was just him and me. Each time his mouth
touched my skin, it became harder to breathe. And at the same time, every
kiss fed my soul in a way I couldn't explain. When he was done, Sam stood
back up and met my gaze.
"What was that?" I murmured.
"Just trying to make you feel better," he said.
"Mission accomplished." He grinned, but I just shook my head. Before
I could think better of it, I said, "I missed you."
Sam's expression sobered. "I've been right here, Kent."
I nodded. "Yeah, but…never mind."
He waited, but I waved all my confusing feelings away. This wasn't
about the past. We had goals to accomplish.
"Anyway, that was a smooth move," I said, sticking my left hand into
my pocket. "Too bad Brisa wasn't here to see it."
"She wouldn't care," he said.
"Oh, she definitely would."
"No worries, Kent. I'm sure word will get back to her."
For some reason, his answer didn't make me happy. My first alarm
sounded, and I turned it off.
"I better go," I said. "Still have to stop by my locker."
"Okay," he said.
 "And seriously, kissing the fingertips? That should've been on my list."
"Like I said, you should leave the romance to me."
"Hmmm. I'll see you, Bishop."
"Later, Kent."
I knew he was right. I should probably let him take the romance reigns
so to speak. But I was scared to do that—because he was far too good at it.
Sam Bishop had hidden talents.
And like an idiot, I'd already blurted the very real fact that I'd missed
him.
I had to take care, remember why we were doing all this, or I might just
fall.
And that would be disastrous for so many reasons, the biggest being he
was already in love with someone—and that someone definitely wasn't me.
I took a deep breath and re-centered.
Get Brisa and Sam back together. Complete my list of firsts. Keep
heart in one piece.
The end.
Just stick to the plan and all shall be well.
Feeling the tingles in my left hand, I thought it might already be too
late.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 8

Word got around fast.

It was high school, so I guess I shouldn't have been surprised.
But I kind of was.
Sam was popular. I was…not—at least in comparison. People knew
my name. I was friendly with everyone, yet they didn't really know me, if
that makes sense? Point being, I'd thought it might be harder to get them to
accept us as a couple.
But by the end of third period, everyone seemed to be on board. It
could've been our not-so-secret kiss, or maybe it was the romantic spin in
the hall. Whatever the reason, Scam was making the rounds. That was a
definite win. Although I didn't know if Brisa specifically had heard yet, like
Sam said, it was only a matter of time.
And that meant our plan was rolling right ahead.
I'd also checked off several of the items on my list.

1. First kiss

I put a big check next to that one, ignoring the heart flutters that always
seemed to come when I thought about Sam and kissing in the same breath.
Brow furrowed, I thought over #7 (First Boyfriend) before adding an
asterisk and short explanation.

7. First Boyfriend* (fake or real boyfriend—both count, no rush on the

latter)

Another check.
I'd already marked two others as well—Sam had helped me with #9
(Forehead kiss), and I completed #14 (Play a solo gig) on my own. At the
bottom, I wrote in "fingertip kisses and pick-me-up spin" just because I
wanted to remember.
Not that I was likely to forget.
I smiled at nothing and shook my head.
 Gazing at the list, I saw there were still several more to go, but it was a
good start. Slipping the paper back in my pocket, I began walking—only to
be joined by Sam a moment later.
"Hey, Kent," he said. "Got your text."
"What text?" I said innocently.
Sam gave me a look.
"Oh, you mean the one where I asked you to meet me after school."
"No, I mean the one where you said, and I quote," he read from his
phone, "'Need to discuss details of the deal. Meet me after school. No
witnesses.'"
Sam lifted a brow as I bit back a laugh.
"Sounds like you joined the mob and are planning to take me out."
"I wouldn't do that, Bishop," I said. "I still need you."
"And when you don't?"
I narrowed my gaze. "You gonna snitch?"
"What?" he said.
"After we do this thing, you gonna turn rat? Because we can't have no
rats in the organization."
Sam blinked.
"You talk you get bopped. Understand?"
I held out for as long as I could, but in the next second, laughter poured
from my lips.
"You should see"—I gasped—"the look on your face."
He shook his head. "You're scary and weird. You're scary weird, Kent."
I was still laughing.
"No witnesses?" he said. "Seriously? I may need to rethink this."
Sobering immediately, I said, "No need for that."
"I wouldn't want to get bopped."
I tilted my head, and he smiled.
"Nice acting by the way," he said.
"Thanks. I was inspired after watching every episode of Peaky
Blinders."
Sam chuckled. "You know what they say."
"No, what do they say?" I asked.
"Well, Sweetheart," he said in what I thought was supposed to be an
English accent, "you don't mess with the Peaky freakin' Blinders."
 I shook my head. "That has to be the worst accent I've ever heard."
Sam shrugged.
"And they don't say freakin'."
"Didn't want to drop the F bomb this early in the morning."
I laughed at that. "I am slightly impressed that you knew the show
though."
"I live to impress," he said.
"Still deciding if it makes up for the accent."
"What'd you want to talk about?" he asked.
Pulling him to the side of the hall, I said, "The deal's off to a good start.
Our PDA game is strong."
His grin widened. He opened his mouth, no doubt to say something that
would make me blush, so I hurried along.
"I just wanted to give you this."
Pushing the papers into his hands, I watched as he looked it over.
"What is it?"
I shrugged. "Our itinerary. For the week."
His eyes rose to meet mine.
"And a copy of my list," I added.
"Cool, I was going to ask for that." Sam's brow furrowed as he stared
back down at the papers. "But what do you mean itinerary? And why are
some of the firsts starred while others aren't?"
My face brightened. "I'm glad you asked, Bishop. The ones with stars
are the parts of my list I'd like to complete with you."
When he looked back up, his face was blank. "And the others?"
"I'll do those by myself—or with a friend."
Sam nodded. "Like #12?"
Despite my best efforts, warmth rose to my cheeks, but I refused to be
embarrassed.
"Skinny-dipping," he added. "Wonder who'll be your partner for that."
I sniffed. "Like I said, maybe I'll do it on my own."
That was my plan anyway.
Getting naked with someone else around? Nah, I'd pass. My jiggly bits
were for my eyes only.
Better to go it alone.
Sam shook his head. "I wouldn't recommend it."
 "Why not?"
"Anything could happen. You might lose your clothes—"
"That only happens in the movies," I said.
"—or get eaten by an alligator."
"The probability of that happening is less than zero. It's Chariot, North
Carolina."
"You're right," he said. "If anything, you'll get bitten by a water
moccasin."
Eyes wide, I stared at him.
"Happened to a friend of mine once," he said with a shrug.
"What's your point?"
"Just saying you might want to bring another person. For safety
purposes."
"Thanks for the tip," I murmured. "I'll consider it."
Sam looked way too pleased with himself. "So, back to the itinerary."
"Yeah." Placing any and all thoughts of dangerous wildlife to the back
of my mind, I said, "It's pretty self-explanatory. I thought we could use
some structure."
"Why?" he asked.
"To make sure we're on the same page. No surprises."
He tilted his head, causing his hair to fall over his eyes in the most
distracting way.
Did he practice that move?
Probably, I decided.
It made me want to reach out and run my fingers through it.
"Surprises can be fun," Sam said.
"Let's just stick to the plan," I said back.
He stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Okay, but I had an idea."
The warning bell rang as we reached my class, and I turned to face him.
"As long as it doesn't involve nudity, alligators, or water moccasins, I'm
in," I said.
Sam chuckled. "Good to know."
"So?"
"I think you should let me give you some lessons."
"In what?"
 "Something that will increase the authenticity of our relationship," he
said. "If you think you can handle it."
I narrowed my eyes, hearing the challenge loud and clear. "I'm a
straight-A student, Bishop. Whatever the subject is, I'm sure I'll master it."
"Good," he said, "then we start kissing lessons Friday."
My jaw dropped.
Did he say—
Sam backed away, wearing a small grin.
"You should see the look on your face," he echoed my words back to me
from earlier. Blue eyes shining with amusement and something else I
couldn't name, he said, "Bye, girlfriend."
I made a small noise in the back of my throat, but no words escaped.
My mind was reeling, caught on two things.
First, did I seriously just agree to kissing lessons with Sam Bishop?
And second, why did the word girlfriend sound so good falling from his
lips?

"Scarlett, I'm sorry, but there's no way I'm letting that kid near my
instrument."
Freya's voice was final. My cousin never said anything she didn't mean.
But I had to at least try and convince her.
"Why not?" I asked. "Gavin's a good kid."
"I just saw him pick his nose and then wipe it on the wall." She
shivered. "Just…ew."
"Come on, Frey," Aurora, my other cousin, said with an infectious
smile. "We knew what we were getting into when we signed on. Kids pick
their noses. Sometimes they even eat their—"
"Don't finish that sentence," Freya said, looking horrified.
"They're kids," Aurora repeated.
"That's disgusting."
"Could be worse," I said—then added, "and I always carry hand
sanitizer in my bag, so no worries."
Freya still looked stressed, but Aurora rolled her eyes.
"I'll take him in my group," she said.
 "Yes, good idea," Freya said, nodding enthusiastically. "You take him,
and I'll take that nice girl in the corner."
"Okay."
Just then said nice girl checked to see if the coast was clear before
slipping a finger into her nose. A second later, we watched as she discreetly
stuck it in her mouth. Freya released a heavy sigh.
"We may need more hand sanitizer," she said gravely.
But I just laughed. "Seriously, Freya, most of the kids are between the
ages of seven and 10. What did you expect?"
She shook her head. "I don't know, Scar. I'm an only child who's
allergic to other people's children. Told you that before."
Aurora and I laughed quietly.
"I'm serious."
"No," I said, "you're hilarious."
Mrs. Primm came over to us and said, "Alright, girls, they're ready
whenever you are."
"Okay," I said, "thanks again, Mrs. Primm."
"Thank you, Scarlett. You have no idea what this means for these kids."
"It's no big deal."
"Yes, it is," she said. "I know I don't have to tell you this, but public
schools are severely underfunded. The teachers are underpaid. We could
never introduce them to wonderful things like string music, so your youth
program is truly a godsend." She smiled at the three of us. "Thank you all
for being here."
Aurora nodded. "Thanks for having us."
"Yeah, no problem," Freya said. "Happy to be here."
I lifted a brow at that, but my cousin just shrugged.
Once Mrs. Primm was gone, I turned to my girls and said, "You ready?"
They nodded.
"You know, I'm thankful too. Most of the kids in the program don't
have a lot of support at home. The fact that you two agreed to mentor, it
means a lot."
Aurora lifted a brow. "We're family, Scarlett. The Kent cousins stick
together, remember?"
I shrugged. "Still, I appreciate it."
 Freya rolled her shoulders back. "Enough with the thank-yous," she
said. "You know we've got your back."
"Then let's do this," I said.
We walked to the center of the room, and I greeted the kids with a grin.
"Hi guys, I'm Scarlett." I gestured to my sides. "This is Aurora and
Freya. Today, we'll be introducing you to string music, specifically the
violin."
The kids looked…bored.
I wasn't worried though.
"Does anyone know how many strings a violin has?" I asked.
Gavin raised his hand. "Four?" he said when I pointed to him.
"Good job," I said. "And can anyone tell me what this is called?"
I held up my bow.
One of the older girls, Sydra, raised her hand, and I nodded.
"It's a bow," she said.
"Nice. Now, does anyone listen to string music?"
No hands up on that one.
"Why not?" I asked.
"Because it's old and boring," Zoe, a girl in the back, said. "How much
longer till we leave?"
Freya leaned toward me and said, "I want that one. She's crabby and
difficult—like me."
"You go it," I said quietly then grinned at Zoe. "Well, let's see if we can
change your mind."
After that, we broke into our first song. It started out as classical then
transitioned into a cover of Taylor Swift's Love Story. The kids sat up a
little straighter when they recognized the song. Our second piece was a
sparkling rendition of Shake It Off. We finished our set with a mashup of
Drakes greatest hits, and by the end, the kids were all clapping. Even Zoe.
We taught the kids the basics, a little about music theory, a few of the
most common fingerings, the correct bowing technique and posture.
Luckily, I'd remembered to bring the practice violins my sister and I had
started on, so there were more to go around. Our arrangements were
typically made for five people, so I'd had to alter them to fit the three of us
—but I loved doing stuff like that. By the end of two hours, each of our
students knew several important facts about the violin and were able to play
a few notes. A couple had even gotten a full one-octave scale.
The best part?
They all left looking happier than when they arrived.
"That went well," I said.
"It was so much fun," Aurora said. "The kids were all awesome."
"Yeah, but my group was the best," Freya said with a sniff. "Naturally."
I laughed at that.
"Did you ask her yet?"
Brows furrowed, I looked up to see Aurora biting her lip.
"Ask me what?" I said.
"Nothing," she said quickly. "I just saw something online."
"Okay…what was it?"
"Ummm…"
Freya grinned. "Ror's too polite to ask, so I'll do it for her. What's
going on with you and Sam Bishop?"
I nearly dropped Yami Yami I was so surprised. "How did you hear
about that?"
"I have my ways," she said cryptically.
But Aurora rolled her eyes. "Someone posted a photo of you two."
"They did?" I blinked as she passed her phone to me. Sure enough,
there was a picture of Sam and me in the hall. It must've been right after
our spin because I was still in his arms, looking up at him with stars in my
eyes. And he was looking at me with this gentle expression like… "Wow,
good picture," I breathed.
"That's all you have to say?" Freya asked.
I shook myself out of it and shrugged. "Sam and I are doing a thing."
"What thing?"
Aurora spoke up then, "Everyone's saying you're together."
I frowned. "I don't get it. You guys don't even go to Chariot High. Do
people at other schools even care?"
"Trust me, they care," Freya said.
"And we care because we're your cousins," Aurora said.
"Your very curious cousins," Freya added.
"Freya's curious. I'm just being nosy."
Freya shot her a look then turned back to me. "So? What's the deal?"
 I took a deep breath.
To lie or not to lie?
That is the question.
My cousins would understand, I decided. Once I explained everything
to them later, they would forgive me—and probably ask for every juicy
detail.
"We're dating," I said simply.
"I knew it," Freya said while Aurora frowned.
"What's up, Ror?" I asked. "You don't look happy."
"Oh no, I'm happy for you," she said then shook her head. "Sam's
just…really good-looking."
"Yeah, he is," I sighed.
"Maybe too good-looking."
Freya scoffed. "Is there such a thing?"
"There is," Aurora said resolutely. "But as long as he treats you well
and doesn't do anything to hurt one of my favorite people in this world, I'm
good with it."
"I second that," Freya said.
I shook my head, smiling more than I had all day. "I love you, guys.
You know that, right?"
Aurora nodded. "Of course, you do. And we love you."
"You guys make me sick," Freya said. "But yeah, love you too."
On the way home, I couldn't stop replaying our conversation.
My cousins who went to a completely different school had heard about
my fake relationship. After I got over the shock, I was filled with sheer joy.
The plan was working better than expected. I couldn't wait to tell Sam.
My phone rang as I pulled up in my driveway.
"Hey, Lotte," I said. "How's it going?"
My sister didn't waste a second. "You and Sam Bishop? What the what,
Scarlett?"
With a sigh, I settled in for another longer conversation.
"Hello?" Charlotte said when I didn't answer. "Don't even try to pretend
you can't hear me. I know you're there, Scar. I hear you breathing."
"I'm here," I said.
"Well?"
"How did you find out?"
 I knew she openly despised social media, so it couldn't have been there.
"Our dear cousins sent me a photo of the two of you looking like a rom-
com book cover," she said back. "And don't try to distract me. I'm the one
with questions."
Taking a deep breath, I decided to just get it over with.
"Yes, we're together now," I said.
"Since when?"
"Since Monday?"
"Are you asking me or telling me?" she said.
I sighed. "We started talking after he picked me up that night my car
broke down."
"In the blue poofy dress."
"Yes."
"And by together, you mean…?"
"We're dating, sort of," I said.
Charlotte stayed silent.
"We're trying it out, kind of like you and Bo did."
"Scarlett."
"What?"
"What aren't you saying?" she asked.
I swallowed.
"You know you can tell me anything."
"Yeah, but…it's complicated," I said finally.
Charlotte hummed. "Sounds like we should do this face-to-face."
My ears perked up at that. "Are you coming home?"
"Yeah, I'll be there this weekend. Need to bring more of my books to
college. My dorm room's lifeless without them. I'm trying to make it feel
like home—but it's hard without you and Dad."
I blew out a breath, grateful for the reprieve.
"We'll talk then," she said and added, "Don't avoid me."
"I would never," I said.
"Yeah, right."
"Love you, Lotte."
"Love you, Scar. I'll see you soon." I could practically hear Charlotte's
sunshine smile through the phone. "Can't wait to hear more about Scam."
I blinked as her last words rang through the air.
Maybe the plan was going too well.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 9

"So," Charlotte said, "is that everything?"

My sister sat across from me in the booth.
Her usually smiling face was set in a firm line. I had no idea what she
was thinking. We'd been here about 15 minutes, during which time, I'd
spilled all the tea there was to spill. Charlotte just let me talk without
saying a word.
Until now.
"I think so," I said.
She stared at me a moment then broke into a smile. "Good."
"Good?" I echoed, throwing up my hands. "Seriously, Lotte. I tell you
I'm in a fake relationship with the only guy I've ever had a crush on—one
who wants to get back with his ex—"
"Who you agreed to help get back with his ex," she put in.
"—and that's all you have to say?"
She shrugged. "I'm glad you told me. I hope it works out."
"Also, what's up with this non-smiling thing you've got going on? Felt
like I was being interrogated instead of talking to my sister."
"You mean this?"
Charlotte's face went blank, and I nodded. "So weird."
"I got it from Bo," she said.
"Should've known," I muttered. "How is Stryker? Still frowning at
everything and hating everyone but you?"
She blushed, but the smile that ate up her face was filled with love.
"Bo's awesome. Yes, he still frowns a lot. But his tough exterior hides the
softest marshmallow center."
"At least he's consistent."
"Back to you and Sam," she said and lifted a brow. "Scam? Really?"
I chuckled. "Yes, and?"
"Considering your situation, it's a little on the nose."
"Hey, I like it," I said. "And you can't let a good couple name go to
waste."