All Chapters of Fake Dating, My Foot. I Love You!: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

"If you love me, prove it." I froze with a French fry halfway to my mouth. Excuse me? I slowly turned my head toward Damien Cole, the man currently holding my hand beneath a restaurant table while smiling at me like he hadn't just ruined my entire afternoon. "What?" I whispered. He didn't look at me. His eyes were fixed on the woman standing beside our table. Zara Mitchell. His ex-girlfriend. The woman who had apparently decided that the word breakup was a suggestion rather than a complete sentence. "Baby," Damien said, squeezing my hand. Baby? I nearly choked on air. He turned to me, his expression so ridiculously tender that I almost forgot we were in public. Almost. "Tell Zara how happy you've been making me." I stared at him. Then I stared at Zara. Then back at him. _I'm going to kill you._ That was the message I tried to communicate with my eyes. Damien's smile widened. _Please, his eyes begged. Just play along._ I wanted to kick him beneath the table. Act

If anyone had told me that pretending to date my childhood best friend would require the organizational skills of a military commander, I would have laughed in their face. Unfortunately, I was no longer laughing. I was sitting at my dining table on a Saturday morning, staring at a sheet of paper Damien had placed in front of me. At the top, he'd written: OUR OFFICIAL LOVE STORY. I looked at the paper. Then at him. Then back at the paper. "Why does our relationship need an official love story?" Damien took a sip of his coffee. "Because people ask questions." "And?" "And we need answers." I leaned back in my chair. "We could tell them we met when we were children, became best friends, and then decided to fake-date because your ex-girlfriend refuses to accept that you broke up." He stared at me. I stared back. "That's a terrible cover story," he said. "It's the truth!" "Exactly. We can't tell people the truth." I pressed my fingers against my temples. "Lord, give me

By Wednesday, I had developed a new hobby. Avoiding Zara Mitchell. It wasn't particularly difficult. I didn't know the woman personally, and I had absolutely no desire to change that. Unfortunately, being Damien Cole's fake girlfriend apparently meant I had been promoted to a position I never applied for: the woman Zara Mitchell wanted answers from. And she wasn't taking no for an answer. My phone buzzed while I was eating breakfast. Damien: Morning, girlfriend. Important question. Me: If it involves holding hands, kissing, or another relationship meeting, the answer is no. Damien: Wow. You haven't even heard the question. Me: I've known you for fifteen years. I know the question. Damien: Do you want pancakes? I paused. Me: Why didn't you start with that? Damien: Because I enjoy watching you suffer. Me: Your pancakes better be good. Damien: They're excellent. Me: You burned toast last month. Damien: That toaster was defective. I laughed into my glass of juice. This

The problem with having Damien Cole as your best friend was that he had absolutely no respect for the phrase I'll be fine.The problem with having him as your fake boyfriend was that he apparently considered every inconvenience in your life a personal emergency.And the problem with receiving threatening messages at nearly ten at night was that it made arguing with him significantly more difficult.Especially when he was already banging on your door."Ava! Open up!"I hurried to the door and unlocked it.Damien stood outside, looking like he'd driven through every red light in the city.His hair was slightly disheveled, his shirt sleeves were rolled up, and his expression was serious enough to make me forget the sarcastic comment I'd prepared."Let me see your phone."I blinked."Hello to you too.""Ava.""Damien."We stared at each other.Then I sighed and handed him my phone.He read the messages, his jaw tightening with every line."Have you received anything else from this number?

There were several reasons why opening a mysterious envelope with my name written on it was a terrible idea.One, I had watched enough movies to know that mysterious envelopes rarely contained good news.Two, the envelope had been left by Zara Mitchell, a woman who considered emotional manipulation a recreational activity.And three, Damien was currently on his way to the café, and I could already imagine the lecture I would receive for meeting his ex behind his back.Yet there I stood, staring at the envelope like it contained the winning lottery numbers."Miss?"I looked up.A waiter stood beside me, holding a tray."Are you looking for someone?""No," I replied quickly. "Actually, yes. Well, technically, I'm looking for something someone left behind."His gaze dropped to the envelope."Oh, that woman asked me to give you this."I turned toward him so quickly that he nearly stepped back."She did?"He nodded."She said you'd come back for it."Of course she had.Zara Mitchell appare