Quotes Of Fake Relationship Novels & Stories

When I looked over again, she was staring at me with the strangest expression. Before I could ask, she said, “You really need to stop throwing around that word so casually.” “Saying what?” “Girlfriend… This stuff is fake, remember?” I smirked. “Why?” “Because it’s weird.” “You proposed this and I have to meet the expectations… wouldn’t want to be caught unaware.” I mused. “I proposed fake dating.” She corrected that frown on her face. “I did NOT propose you calling me your girlfriend every five seconds like you’ve been waiting your entire life to use the word.”

"If you say so." There it was again. That same dismissive phrase that made me want to throw my phone across the room. "Stop saying that!" I typed in all caps. "Saying what?" "'If you say so.' You keep saying it like you don't believe me." "I believe that you believe what you're saying." "That's the same as not believing me!" "Is it?" I actually growled at my phone in frustration. "Fine," Derek typed. "I believe you. The kiss meant nothing. The date will be completely fake. Our entire relationship is pretend. Everything is fake. Happy?"

I rushed the last part out, too nervous to monitor my phrasing. I couldn't bring myself to meet his eyes, dreading his reaction to this insane proposition. The weighted silence stretched out until he finally cleared his throat. "I see. And what's your stance on this... unorthodox publicity moves between us?" My throat felt dry, but I forced myself to hold his intense gaze. "Truthfully? I think it's farcical and demeaning to everything we've built together. You've become an invaluable partner and friend. This whole fake relationship feels like a violation of the trust between us."

“A job?” “Yeah. It’s temporary. But… We need someone who can pull it off. It’s for the company. You pretend to date someone. Just a show. In and out.” Liam stared. “Fake dating? Are you joking?” Kant crossed his arms. “You’ve done worse for money.” Liam’s eyes flared with disbelief. “That was years ago; I’m not that person anymore.” Kant shrugged. “Fine, then I'll find another person; just say no.”

“Miss Park, the rumors have escalated. The media wants a follow-up. The board wants confirmation. We need evidence that our relationship is genuine.” “Evidence,” I repeat slowly. “Like a kiss?” He doesn’t even blink. “Precisely.” I throw my hands in the air. “Oh sure, why not! Let’s just kiss for the shareholders! Maybe next we can get engaged for better market visibility!” “Don’t be dramatic.” “I am dramatic. That’s literally in my personality description!” He sighs—the long-suffering sigh of a man realizing he fake-dated a gremlin with vocal cords. “It’s a simple solution. We’ll practice first to avoid awkwardness during the actual scene.”

I explained, and this time his big brown eyes come to meet mine, offering me a small nod. “Yeah, I guess I get that.” He smiled. “So what else did I do seeing as you seem to have turned me into some serious romantic love-sick fool?” And there we lay for I don’t know how long discussing all the things we could explain with regards to out past together if anybody were to ask us. Some we were able to intermingle the truth of our friendship, others were well and truly imaginary, which we had fun creating. There had been so much laughter, and smiles as we lay side by side chatting about everything under the sun, building this oddly fake relationship we needed to make everyone else believe. Yet, b

"A very specific, time-limited strategy that has nothing to do with dating. Just hear me out." I crossed my arms. "I am listening." "That is not exactly the reassuring statement you think it is." "I'm not trying to reassure you." He pushed off the door frame and straightened up. "What I am proposing is nothing like a date. I am proposing a fake relationship." I stared at him. "A fake relationship."

Outside my window the city does its usual indifferent morning thing. Taxis. Coffee carts. People with places to be. “It’s too much,” I say finally. “All of it. It’s too much for…” “For what.” I don’t finish the sentence. For me. For a fake relationship. For a contract with an end date. Except it isn’t fake anymore. We both know that. “Zara.” Quieter now. “No one damages what’s mine.” The words land somewhere low in my chest. “I’m not yours,” I say carefully. “The contract doesn’t…”

"All right, Mr. Heathrow. Now let's discuss strategy. Believability is the first rule of fake relationships. The general public must purchase it. Therefore, even if the story is completely made up, it must have an authentic feel. With a hint of humor returning to his voice, he said, "And you've already nixed the storm stranded strangers in a tiny motel room' version?""Unfortunately, yes,"she sighed. "Too ridiculous for a professional sportsman. It shouts "one-night stand,"not "soulmates."We require something relatable and uncliched that evokes a sense of destiny.

“Us. Together. Holding hands at some market, me laughing at your dumb jokes, you kissing my cheek at a banquet. Whatever makes us look stupidly in love. People eat that crap up. They’ll forget the rumors in a week.” He stared at me for a long second. Then I laughed. Real laugh, head back. “You want to fake date me. Publicly.” “Exactly.” He leaned forward, elbows on the desk. “You know what happens when people pretend something long enough?” I crossed my arms. “What?” “They start believing it. And then they become it.” My stomach flipped but I kept my face blank. “Not gonna happen.” He smirked. “Wanna bet?” I lifted my chin. “Name your terms.”