There was no doubt that Beck had self-confidence in spades. Maybe if I hung out with him for a bit, some of it would rub off.
“Give me two minutes and we’ll get going.” As I headed to my bedroom, I called out from down the hall. “I just need to decide on my outfit. I can’t figure out if I need a top under my jacket.”
“Or what?”
I pulled off my silk cami and slipped on the jacket, buttoning the two buttons. “Or what, what?” I called through to the sitting room.
“A top or what else?”
“Just my bra,” I replied and headed back into my sitting room. “What do you think?” I asked, as I peered down at my cleavage. It seemed a little too much from this angle.
“Definitely just your bra,” Beck said and when I looked up, I found him staring at my cleavage, too.
“You see? I can’t wear this. My boobs are out.” I didn’t want to look as if I was trying too hard, and I didn’t want Matt to think I was slutty. He’d always been really particular about how I dressed, and although at first I’d seen it as controlling, after meeting his family, I understood that he was trying to stop his mother from complaining. I might hate Matt, but I didn’t want him to look at me and say, “Thank God it’s not her I asked to marry me.” I wanted to wear something that made him regret what he’d done.
“They’re not totally out,” Beck said. “They’re just giving me a little wave.”
I pull
ed my hands up to my chest. “They’re not waving to you or anyone else.”
“Winking then.”
“Holy crap,” I said, turning and heading back to my bedroom. “My breasts don’t wink!”
“Well, if you were my girlfriend, I’d be very happy to take you out with winking breasts.”
I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. “I need to advise you not to say that to a woman. Ever.” I’d just met this guy and already we were talking about my boobs. I guess we were in a serious relationship.
“Good tip,” he called out. “But seriously, you look hot—better than with the top, which was a little . . . old.”
Old wasn’t what I was going for.
“This way, you’re sexy,” he said. “Your outfit, I mean.”
I scooped up my evening bag and called out, “Let’s go.” He met me at the front door. “I think we’re going to crush this fake relationship thing if we can talk about my boobs so casually. Before the end of the night, we’ll be peeing with the bathroom door open.”
He held the door open and I dipped under his arm to make my way out. “We probably should swap a few details about each other, or at the least get our story straight on how we met, how long we’ve been dating and stuff.”
I paused halfway down the stairs as a rush of ice kissed the base of my spine and shivered up to my neck. “Shit. We’re completely unprepared. I mean, I don’t even know where you grew up or what your middle name is.”
I was planning to go in and lie to everyone about how this Beck guy was the love of my life, and I didn’t know what he liked to do on Sunday mornings. Was he a gym guy or a lie-in-and-read-the-papers kind of man?
It was going to be completely obvious that we’d just met.
I was about to be completely humiliated.
I pulled the door shut and locked up. Perhaps I should ask him to leave, call this entire thing off. It was a ridiculous idea. Bloody Florence. Only she could have talked me into this.
“Kent and Robert,” he said, holding his arm out for a passing cab.
“I don’t think we should do this,” I said, my feet fixed firmly to the pavement as Beck held the cab door open for me. “It’s insane. People are going to think I’m a lunatic when they find out I’m pretending we’re dating.”
“Get in the cab, Stella.”
“I mean it. I’m a terrible liar at the best of times. But I’m not prepared for this.”
“We can talk about it on the way.”