Couples

Sarah caught the quiet whispers clearly. So did Bunny. They exchanged a brief look.

“I need to go teach that loudmouth gossip a proper lesson. Hold my bag!” Bunny tried handing over her armful of belongings to Sarah.

“Forget it,” Sarah stuffed the bags right back into Bunny’s hands. “You know I don’t have the luxury for a fight right now. Let’s just go, please.”

Bunny glared at the group of girls who were already hurrying away, but she relented and kept walking alongside Sarah toward the library.

They stepped through the entrance, offered a quiet greeting to the librarian, and walked directly toward the secluded bookshelf at the very back—Blake’s usual spot.

Blake was already waiting for her when they rounded the corner.

“Uhm, hey. This is Bunny, my……”

“Hi! I’m Bunny,” Bunny cut right into Sarah’s sentence, leaving her completely dumbfounded. “I’m her best friend, and I just wanted to personally tell you to treat her with care and never let Pearl High gossip affect her, or I will personally come for your balls.”

She offered him a bright smile, though it carried zero actual warmth.

A low chuckle escaped Blake’s throat as he nodded slowly at Bunny.

“I never intend to let my girlfriend suffer. Ever.”

“*Fake* girlfriend,” Sarah whispered sharply under her breath to him.

He kept his eyes locked on Bunny, completely ignoring Sarah’s quiet correction.

“Let’s go.” He turned back to Sarah, grabbing her hand securely, and led her out of the library with their fingers firmly intertwined.

Bunny trailed behind them. As they exited the main doors, Bunny tapped Sarah’s shoulder, offered a bright wave, and held up her phone to signal that she would text her later.

Sarah nodded, turning her attention forward only to spot students ‘secretly’ snapping pictures with phones that were blindingly obvious.

“You’re already popular, Sarah,” Blake noted softly.

She ducked her head slightly before forcing herself to look up again.

“I think I’m going to be sick…… from all this popularity.”

Blake let out a low laugh. He reached out and smoothly took her heavy bag from her shoulder. Holding it in one hand, his other hand found the small of her waist, guiding her through the courtyard toward the school parking lot. Phones remained raised in the air around them, the background murmurs growing noticeably louder.

Unlocking the passenger side of a sleek, pristine white Ferrari, Blake opened the door for her. Sarah sank into the leather seat as though she were terrified of soiling the interior, sitting completely stiff and unmoving in one spot.

Blake slid into the driver’s seat, his sharp eyes taking in the ridiculously quiet girl sitting next to him like a marble statue.

“Why are you sitting like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like a literal statue.”

“I’m not.”

“You definitely are.”

“I’m just trying not to dirty your car! I really don’t have the money to pay for detailed maintenance, and I definitely can’t afford to wash a Ferrari. What if I accidentally ruin something inside?”

Blake stared at her in dead silence for a few seconds. Then, he suddenly burst into loud, deep laughter, throwing his head back and clutching his chest.

Sarah just kept staring at him as he laughed. Her heart did a series of violent flips at the sight of him laughing so freely right in front of her.

He gradually quieted down and turned back toward Sarah, leaning in close—so close she could smell the rich scent of dark coffee and sweet chocolate clinging to his skin.

Their faces were only inches apart.

“You are my girlfriend now, Sarah. I really don't mind at all. You can dirty it all you want. I’d happily buy you a seat with an iced latte and have you relax under a sunshade with personal masseurs while I hire people to detail the car.”

Sarah swallowed hard. Their faces were far too close. Vivid images of their earlier kiss flashed unbidden through her mind, and her eyes involuntarily drifted down to his full, dark pink lips. She swallowed again.

*Click.*

He clicked the seatbelt into place across her chest and leaned back into his own seat. Turning to her with a subtle smile, he switched on the ignition and smoothly pulled out of the lot.

Sarah remained quiet as the sports car glided onto the main road, though her posture was slightly less rigid than before. Her cheeks were rapidly competing with the shade of a ripe tomato as thoughts of his lips on hers kept running through her head.

“Hey, why do you look so pale?” he asked, his eyes remaining fixed on the road ahead.

“Keep your eyes on the road! I’m not ready to die yet.”

“My eyes *are* on the road, yet I can still see you. Now, why do you look pale?”

Without warning, he pulled the car over, bringing it to a stop along the empty shoulder of the road. Turning fully in his seat to face her, he raised a single, questioning eyebrow.

Sarah ducked her head, staring intently down at her shoes. “I’m fine. My face just looks pale most of the time.”

“I highly doubt that,” he replied, not tearing his gaze away from her for even a second.

“It’s true! You can’t doubt it—you only just met me today for the first time,” she murmured back defensively.

“That’s actually not true. I have……” He cut himself off abruptly. “Let’s get you some medicine.”

“No, no, no! I’m completely fine, really. Let’s just go. I need to be at work in less than an hour.”

His eyes lingered on her face a moment longer before he finally restarted the ignition and pulled back onto the road.

The rest of the drive was smooth and silent until the car rolled to a stop in front of a sprawling, high-end building made almost entirely of glass. The designer clothes displayed in the massive windows were clearly not meant for anyone on her modest salary.

He killed the engine, stepped out, and walked around to the passenger side. As she attempted to open her door, he held it open for her, helping her step out before shutting it securely.

He turned and began walking toward the boutique entrance, and she followed him in complete silence.

The moment they stepped inside, a polished attendant walked over with a warm greeting. “Welcome, sir, ma'am. I will be your personal attendant today.”

Blake nodded curtly. Gently grabbing Sarah’s wrist, he pulled her forward and took her hand in his.

“Show us directly to the VIP section,” he commanded. The attendant extended her hand, gesturing for them to follow as she led the way.

Riding a private glass elevator to the upper floor, they stepped out into what looked to Sarah like an absolute paradise made entirely of luxury fashion.

She swallowed hard, her grip tightening nervously around her purse.

“Help her pick out whatever dress she likes or anything you think will suit her. And hurry it up—we leave in thirty minutes,” he instructed the attendant, who offered a polite nod before turning to Sarah.

“Right this way, ma'am.”

Sarah finally turned to Blake, speaking up after a long silence.

“What is all this?”

“Just something to relieve some stress.”

“I don’t remember ever saying I was stressed out or needed retail therapy!”

“You have work in less than an hour. I strongly advise you to start hurrying up.”

She glared at him. “As much as I’d love to say no, it’s not my money, and I’m already dealing with the massive inconvenience of fake dating you, so I won’t refuse.”

“Even though it would have been a whole lot better if this were real…… at least then I could enjoy the money without feeling guilty,” she muttered under her breath.

“What did you just say?” he asked, catching the murmur.

She waved her hand dismissively. “Nothing!”

She turned and followed the attendant into the fitting area while Blake sank into a plush leather sofa, pulling out his phone.

A few minutes later, Sarah stepped out of the fitting room wearing a short skirt that stopped well above her knees, paired with a long-sleeved cropped button-down shirt and a stylish tie.

He looked up from his screen as she did a awkward little twirl. He swallowed hard, adjusting his position on the sofa as his eyes swept down her body, lingering heavily on her exposed thighs.

“If it looks terrible, just tell me,” Sarah said, her brow furrowing at his intense expression.

He snapped out of his trance at the sound of her voice.

“No…… it actually looks good. A little *too* good, actually. You can wear that, but only at home or maybe when we go out together.”

“We’re going to go out together?”

“Don’t actual couples do that?”

“Yes, but technically speaking, that’s for real couples.”

He nodded slowly. “Then we’ll do it. It makes us look more convincing.”

She pouted slightly and turned back into the dressing room, the attendant following close behind with a soft, knowing smile plastered across her face.

A few minutes later, she stepped out wearing a short spaghetti-strap dress that fit tightly from her bust down to her waist before flaring out to mid-thigh.

He stared at her again, though this time he forced his gaze away much faster, giving a firm shake of his head.

“Don’t you people have anything that goes down a little lower? Like close to her knees?” he asked the attendant sharply.