Page 73
Story: Fake Married to the Grumps
Bryce nods. "Yep, just the two of us."
The waitress glances between us, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "A couple's night out, huh? How adorable!"
My cheeks flush with a sudden heat, and I quickly interject, "Oh, no, we're not ... uh, we're just friends."
Bryce's lips quirk up in a knowing smile and lets out a low chuckle. "You're turning as red as a tomato, Marissa. Are you sure there's nothing you want to tell me?"
"It's really not like that," I mumble, eyes downcast. My nerves make my voice waver slightly, despite my attempt at nonchalance.
Bryce leans closer to me with an amused smile. "If you say so. But you should see how flustered you look right now."
The waitress grins. "Alright, just friends. I’ll give you two a moment to decide on your orders."
The moment she walks away, Bryce gets a teasing glint in his eyes. "You really need to work on your poker face."
"I can’t help it if I’m not a master of deception like you."
He laughs, and the rich baritone sound sends a shiver down my spine.
"Fair point. But seriously, it's just dinner. No need to be so on edge."
I stare down at the tablecloth. How can he joke so lightly about this? Does he truly not recall how he rejected me?
I exhale, trying to relax into the moment. "I know. It's just ... it's been a while, you know?"
"Yeah, I get it. But hey, we're just two people catching up. No pressure."
The waitress returns, and we place our orders.
As we wait for the food, conversation drifts between work, life, and the occasional shared memory from our high school days.It's almost like we're being careful and choosing to avoid the elephant in the room.
"Remember when you told me that you spilled the solution all over your lab partner in chemistry class?"
I groan. "Really, Bryce? You're going to bring up high school mishaps now?"
Bryce can't resist poking at boundaries, as usual.
"Come on, it was hilarious. He looked like a neon alien for a week."
"Okay, fine. But that doesn't mean you get a free pass to embarrass me all night."
It's so easy to talk to him like this, even though I can't shake the emotions warring inside me. The hurt from the past, the wavering feelings, and the indisputable charm of the guy sitting across from me.
As the night progresses, the layers peel away. Bryce shares snippets of his life, the challenges of stardom, and the constant scrutiny from the media.
And then, as the waitress brings the check, he leans back, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Marissa, about tonight ..."
I stiffen. I'm unsure of what's coming next, so I brace myself.
"... thanks for coming with me."
His sincerity catches me off guard, and for a minute, the walls I've built begin to crumble. "Well, it's just dinner, right? No big deal."
He nods. "No big deal. But I appreciate it."
I manage a smile. The fluttering in my chest won't stop, and I have to remind myself to breathe. His words replay in my mind and a warmth spreads through my chest that I haven't felt in so long.
"Yeah, I'm just glad you're okay."
The waitress glances between us, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "A couple's night out, huh? How adorable!"
My cheeks flush with a sudden heat, and I quickly interject, "Oh, no, we're not ... uh, we're just friends."
Bryce's lips quirk up in a knowing smile and lets out a low chuckle. "You're turning as red as a tomato, Marissa. Are you sure there's nothing you want to tell me?"
"It's really not like that," I mumble, eyes downcast. My nerves make my voice waver slightly, despite my attempt at nonchalance.
Bryce leans closer to me with an amused smile. "If you say so. But you should see how flustered you look right now."
The waitress grins. "Alright, just friends. I’ll give you two a moment to decide on your orders."
The moment she walks away, Bryce gets a teasing glint in his eyes. "You really need to work on your poker face."
"I can’t help it if I’m not a master of deception like you."
He laughs, and the rich baritone sound sends a shiver down my spine.
"Fair point. But seriously, it's just dinner. No need to be so on edge."
I stare down at the tablecloth. How can he joke so lightly about this? Does he truly not recall how he rejected me?
I exhale, trying to relax into the moment. "I know. It's just ... it's been a while, you know?"
"Yeah, I get it. But hey, we're just two people catching up. No pressure."
The waitress returns, and we place our orders.
As we wait for the food, conversation drifts between work, life, and the occasional shared memory from our high school days.It's almost like we're being careful and choosing to avoid the elephant in the room.
"Remember when you told me that you spilled the solution all over your lab partner in chemistry class?"
I groan. "Really, Bryce? You're going to bring up high school mishaps now?"
Bryce can't resist poking at boundaries, as usual.
"Come on, it was hilarious. He looked like a neon alien for a week."
"Okay, fine. But that doesn't mean you get a free pass to embarrass me all night."
It's so easy to talk to him like this, even though I can't shake the emotions warring inside me. The hurt from the past, the wavering feelings, and the indisputable charm of the guy sitting across from me.
As the night progresses, the layers peel away. Bryce shares snippets of his life, the challenges of stardom, and the constant scrutiny from the media.
And then, as the waitress brings the check, he leans back, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Marissa, about tonight ..."
I stiffen. I'm unsure of what's coming next, so I brace myself.
"... thanks for coming with me."
His sincerity catches me off guard, and for a minute, the walls I've built begin to crumble. "Well, it's just dinner, right? No big deal."
He nods. "No big deal. But I appreciate it."
I manage a smile. The fluttering in my chest won't stop, and I have to remind myself to breathe. His words replay in my mind and a warmth spreads through my chest that I haven't felt in so long.
"Yeah, I'm just glad you're okay."
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