Writing the Rules: A Fake Dating Standalone by Mariah Dietz (classic english novels .TXT) 📕

His gaze meets mine, reading my doubt. “Poppy, you look beautiful.”

I pull in a breath through my nose. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

“No finger pistols tonight?”

“Not yet.”

He grins, and I’m thankful to have an excuse to look away and lock my door because the more I see his smile, the longer I stare. I think I’m trying to memorize the details in an attempt to better read his expressions. I’m not positive what this grin means except that he’s happy.

When we reach his car, Pax opens the passenger door for me, another detail I’ve noted I want in my future boyfriend. Before he rounds the car, I take deep breaths of his scent. It’s stronger here in his car and also in his room.

“How was your night with Dylan?” Pax asks as he gets into his seat.

“It was nice. I found a brand of frosting without palm oil which saved the cupcakes.”

Another easy laugh. He’s definitely in a good mood. I like this about him. His good mood is nearly as dependable as his loyalty.

“I saw Candace today,” I blurt out the words with no real purpose.

Paxton stills, his gaze crossing to my side of the car. “What happened?”

I shake my head. “Nothing, really.” In actuality, she called me a gold digger and told me Paxton would tire of me, insinuating I was a virgin and therefore dull. But explaining that to him lodges the reminder of Mike into my head because I lost my virginity to him senior year, and that all seems really irrelevant and super awkward to explain.

Pax volleys his gaze from the road to me a couple more times. “That’s good.”

I nod.

“I’m hoping she won’t be here tonight. A few guys from the team will be here, so we’re definitely on show. You can drink if you want. I’ll be your DD.”

“Sober buddy,” I say, pointing at myself.

He scoffs. “I don’t need a sober buddy. It doesn’t bother me to be around alcohol or people drinking, it’s not like I have a substance abuse problem. I just have a problem getting out of my own head.”

“I don’t really tend to drink unless Rae’s with me. We have a buddy system and watch out for each other.”

“I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.” His gaze catches mine again.

I simply nod in response as his words sink past the thin barrier of my thoughts and consciousness into my memory bank. I want to record these words tonight.

When we arrive at the party, I’m glad it doesn’t immediately stink of smoke, and while it’s crowded, it’s a more familiar scene than the party we last attended. Paxton’s hand around my waist drops and finds mine, our fingers weaving together as we step inside. He has great hands, his knuckles wide and large so it doesn’t pinch my fingers. His forearm is warm against mine like his hand. I’m beginning to think I like his heat a little too much.

“Paxton!” someone yells, drawing my attention. It’s a guy in a beanie hat who I don’t recognize.

Paxton pauses and secures me to his side by releasing my fingers and wrapping his arm around my shoulders. It feels less causal to have his hand here, more intimate. The guy in the beanie hat stops in front of us, smiling with a cup in one hand. “What’s up? I haven’t seen you in a few weeks.”

Pax’s face is a mystery. He’s wearing a smile, but it’s a contradiction to his demeanor which has changed in small measures. He doesn’t look mad or upset, but this guy has certainly brought something else to his mood. “Yeah, I’ve been busy with school and football.”

Beanie guy nods. “I hear you, man.” He leans closer. “If you’re having trouble studying, I’ve got something to help you focus.”

I probably have a fish face, an open mouth and wide eyes. Is this guy insinuating what I think he is?

Pax shakes his head. “I’m staying clean, man.”

Beanie guy turns his attention to me, but only a fraction. There’s an inquiry in his gaze, likely wondering if I’m the reason Pax is riding this straightened arrow. I smile primly. I think that’s my role here. Beanie guy doesn’t seem impressed since he turns his attention back to Pax. “You know how to get a hold of me.” He clamps a hand on Pax’s shoulder and then passes us.

Pax grimaces as he meets my eyes. “Hopefully, that’s the only skeleton tonight.”

“Was he offering what I think he was?”

Pax nods. “I used to get weed from him.”

Marijuana is legal here, and many smoke and bake with it, desensitizing me from the taboo that surrounded it when I was younger, but the other drug he was offering feels like a dark, cloaked figure in a darkened ally.

We continue going through the house, Pax introducing me as his girlfriend. A few people turn and whisper to their friends, a couple laugh, but many are kind, complimenting my hair, my outfit, even my name. It’s weird because they seem happy to know me and eager to please me.

Pax leads me deeper into the crowds, where we’re stopped once again by someone who recognizes him. This time it’s a girl who looks between our joined hands and his face a dozen times like she’s watching a tennis match. Each time her eyes return to his face, her shoulders push back a little farther, and she moves a little closer. Again, Pax introduces me as his girlfriend. She isn’t deterred.

“See you,” Pax says as she inches closer. He places his arm around my shoulder and lowers his mouth to my ear. “We should probably kiss. I think that’s what would happen here.”

I blink. “Because I’m claiming you?”

He grins. “And because we’re supposed to be boning and touching and making out a lot like couples do.”

His words replay in my head like a catchy tune, creating a new landscape in my thoughts that makes my heart quicken.

He reels me in like we’re dancing. His