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“Hey, asshole. That’s my girlfriend you’re making a pass at, and trust me, you’d be so lucky.”
“Wow.” Felix’s voice freezes my movements from head to toe. He steps through the crowd, eyes locked on me.
“Dahlia, you look…wow.” He clears his throat. “I’ve forgotten all other adjectives.”
“But…” “I’m not the guy for you, but that doesn’t mean I don’t wish that I were.”
“Are you two gonna keep playing or make out?” Lucas asks. Without tearing his gaze from mine, Felix says, “Make out.” My pulse races and my heart is hammering in my chest. “To be clear,” he says as he brings his mouth closer. “This isn’t part of the Felix Walter’s experience.” “No?” “Uh-uh. This is the Dahlia Brady effect. Totally different thing. You drive me completely fucking crazy.”
No one has ever looked better.
“Well, I guess it’s a good thing you have me then.” “Why’s that?” “Because I’m always looking out for you. Whatever you need, hot stuff.”
My chest aches as I think about the truth of those words. She wasn’t just the best fake girlfriend, she was the best girl I’ve hung out with, period.
“I want you to be my girlfriend. For real this time.” He sits up. “You’re right. Nothing about this feels casual. It never did. I want to be the guy taking you home, not the asshole sitting across the bar watching you with some other guy.”
want to go back to hanging out like before. I want to be the guy that takes you to the party and the one that takes you home. I liked being your boyfriend. It didn’t feel fake.”
I don’t just want to be the guy taking her home. I want to be the guy who watches her kick everyone’s ass at flip cup, the guy who makes her ramble and blush, and I want to look up from the field at every game to see her cheering me on (preferably in my jersey). I want her.
