Excerpt from “The Reluctant Fiancée”

We still hadn’t reached our destination, so Jack released my hand and turned on the radio while I sat silently, lost in my own thoughts. My brain was screaming at me to wake up. There was no part of this that was normal. What was wrong with me? I felt like a lovelorn teenager with a silly crush. Something was very off. I had always shied away from physical contact with people, especially those with whom I was not close. Yet, here I was, practically playing the adult equivalent of ‘house’ with a man who was largely still a stranger to me. A man who was all too comfortable touching, carrying, kissing me. A man who felt too familiar, too fast. A man who had already tried to ingrain himself into my life after a few short days. If I wasn’t careful, he’d work his way into my heart, too.

The romantic notions that I tried so hard to suppress were jumping with joy, screaming that I could have a taste of what it must be like to live in a modern fairy tale. But common sense, which I preferred to listen to, was reminding me that this was a temporary arrangement. And one that was honestly benefitting him more than me in the long run.

I needed to protect myself. He was a notorious philanderer. I had seen the evidence myself, plastered across the internet. I kept reminding myself that he was not my boyfriend or love interest. His ease with physical affection was probably honed through years of womanizing. It meant nothing to him, so it should mean nothing to me. And he had already shown me what a skilled and creative liar he was. Instead of allowing myself to internally swoon when he said or did certain things, I should just consider his actions those of a con man who didn’t realize that the con was up. I was on to his game, so it was time to set some boundaries if he expected me to play a part in this charade.

I turned down the radio, attracting Jack’s attention from the road. “If we’re going to sell this whole ‘fiancé’ situation, we need a plan of attack.”

He nodded his head, focusing on the road again. “I agree.”

“Good. And I want to set some ground rules.”

His nodding stopped and was replaced with a look of displeasure. “What kind of ‘ground rules’?”

“For starters, I don’t like being touched.”

He looked annoyed and scoffed. “You certainly didn’t seem to mind before.”

“I was being polite.” It wasn’t true. I hadn’t minded. I had actually enjoyed it…for the most part.

“No, you weren’t.”

“We can agree to disagree. Just like real couples do.” I turned and shot him an overly fake smile. He must have seen it out of the corner of his eye, because he responded by rolling his eyes.

“One minute you’re holding my hand, and the next you’re telling me that you don’t like to be touched. Bipolar much?”

Questioning my mental health was not a joke to me. “I was trying to demonstrate to you how real fiancés would act,” I snapped. “I must have done a good job, because you thought that was genuine.” In the moment, it hadbeen a genuine reaction that was uncharacteristic of me, but I already regretted it.

“You’re clearly much better at faking things that I am,” he scoffed again. “Why don’t you keep educating me on how ‘real fiancés’ would act?” There was no way to misinterpret the spite in his tone.

“For starters, any physical contact should be reserved for when we’re in public or being watched. When it’s just the two of us, keep your paws to yourself.”

He shook his head with disbelief. “I thought you just said that you didn’t like to be touched.” His argumentative tone made me think that I had either hit a nerve or uncovered the real him under all the garbage that he had been trying to sell me.

“Real fiancés should be physical to some extent.”

“Oh, is that right?” His annoyance was making me wonder what the hell I had been thinking when I had decided to play hooky in hopes of spending more time with him. “What kind of ‘physical’ should they be?”

“The kind that suggests to people who are watching them that they’re actually in love, or, at very least, can stand each other.”

“Got it. So, you’ve got an imaginary force field around you when it’s just the two of us. But if anyone else is around, I can put my ‘paws’ on you.”

“What’s your problem?” I snapped. “You’re ruining my life because you told a bunch of lies to try to help you get what you want. I never asked for this shit. You could at least treat me with a little respect.” My inner fire was reignited, and I was ready for a fight.

“What’s my problem? You just flipped a switch on me and went into bitch mode.”

“Did you just call me a ‘bitch’?!” I was livid.

“I didn’t mean it like that…” It was too late. The word had already come out of his mouth.

“I’m a bitch because I don’t want you to feel like you have free license to be grabby with me. Am I understanding that right?”

“That’s not what I meant…” I put my hand up to silence him.

“I don’t care what you meant.” I stared angrily out the passenger side window and fumed in silence.

“Come on,” he purred. I felt him reach for my left hand, trying to hold it. “I’m sorry.” 

I snatched my hand away from him. “Were we not just discussing not being physical?” I exclaimed incredulously.

“I was trying to practice for when we’re in public.” That damned smirk of his was back. He was actually enjoying this! “We’re almost there.”

“You don’t get to practice anything like that without my consent. Do you understand?”

“Got it. Loud and clear.”

“Good.” I was finally starting to calm down when he began to laugh. “What’s so funny?”

“We just experienced our first milestone.”

I was utterly confused. “What milestone?”

“We just had our first fight as a couple,” he turned, grinning at me.

I couldn’t help but to laugh and smile back at him. “I guess that we did. Do you think that we’re going to make it as a couple?”

“I give it a few months, tops,” he chuckled.