Page 19
Story: My Big Fat Fake Alien
The office is dimly lit when I arrive, the only illumination coming from the multiple screens on my desk. I settle into my chair, fingers flying across the keyboard as I access the Veritas network.
"Alright, let's make this look convincing," I mutter, pulling up Raven's social media profiles. With a few keystrokes, I begin seeding our feeds with images and videos of us together - sharing a meal, strolling through a park, even a few carefully staged shots of us in more intimate embraces.
I pause, staring at the last image. Raven's face is flushed, her dark eyes shining with a vulnerability I haven't seen before. My chest tightens, an unfamiliar sensation.
"Focus, Karc," I growl, shaking off the distracting emotions. I need to keep a clear head if I'm going to pull this off.
My compad chimes, jolting me from my thoughts. I glance down to see a message from Raven. I tell her I will come to pick her up immediately.
"Why are you coming to get me?" she asks.
I tap out a reply. "Because it is what your fiancé would do. And we have some details to work out. Like I should know what your favorite color is, for example."
Her response is a laughing emoji. "I'll be waiting in the employee parking lot."
I can't help the small smile that tugs at my lips. "Clever girl," I murmur, already heading for the door. Time to solidify this ruse.
The sight of her waiting in the parking lot steals my breath. Moonlight catches in her dark hair, making it shine like polished obsidian. I grip the steering wheel harder, my claws threatening to emerge through my human disguise. Focus. This is business, nothing more.
"My hero," she says, sliding into the passenger seat. Her scent fills the car - jasmine and something uniquely her. My scales ripple beneath the hologram.
"Hungry?" I manage to ask, though what I really want is to taste those perfect lips again.
"Starving."
I take her to an all-night diner, one of those chrome and neon places that dot the city. Over coffee and pancakes, we construct our fictional romance.
"So we met here at the club six months ago?" She taps her fork against her plate. "That works. Simple enough to remember."
"Is there anything else I should know about you?"
Her eyes narrow. "Like what?"
"Well..." I lean forward, dropping my voice. "Any tattoos in interesting places?"
"How is that relevant to our pretend relationship?"
"It might come up in conversation."
"How in the hell would that ever come up in conversation?" Her laugh rings out, bright and genuine. It draws an answering smile from me before I can suppress it.
I watch her sip her coffee, memorizing the way her nose crinkles when she smiles. Her wit, her fire - it's intoxicating. Fora moment, I let myself imagine this is real. That we're just a normal couple sharing a late-night meal.
But we're not. And I need to remember that.
A flash of light catches my attention. Through the diner's front window, I spot at least a dozen photographers with expensive cameras. The paparazzi found us.
"Welcome to the downside of dating a billionaire." I keep my voice low, meant only for her ears. "Even just for pretend."
Her laugh sends electricity down my spine. "Then let's really give them a show."
Before I can react, she shrugs off her coat. The cheerleader uniform from Area 51 makes my mouth go dry - all bare legs and taut stomach. My hands clench as she crawls across the table, sending our coffee cups clattering.
She slides into my lap like she belongs there. Her lips find mine and coherent thought vanishes. Camera flashes explode like fireworks through my closed eyelids. The taste of her overwhelms my senses - coffee and syrup and that indefinable something that is purely Raven.
I kiss her back, my fingers tangling in her hair. The photographers outside go wild, their cameras clicking like insects. But I barely notice them anymore. All I can focus on is the soft warmth of her body against mine, the way she melts into me as if we were made to fit together.
For this moment, I let myself forget it's all pretend. I let myself believe she wants this as much as I do.
"Alright, let's make this look convincing," I mutter, pulling up Raven's social media profiles. With a few keystrokes, I begin seeding our feeds with images and videos of us together - sharing a meal, strolling through a park, even a few carefully staged shots of us in more intimate embraces.
I pause, staring at the last image. Raven's face is flushed, her dark eyes shining with a vulnerability I haven't seen before. My chest tightens, an unfamiliar sensation.
"Focus, Karc," I growl, shaking off the distracting emotions. I need to keep a clear head if I'm going to pull this off.
My compad chimes, jolting me from my thoughts. I glance down to see a message from Raven. I tell her I will come to pick her up immediately.
"Why are you coming to get me?" she asks.
I tap out a reply. "Because it is what your fiancé would do. And we have some details to work out. Like I should know what your favorite color is, for example."
Her response is a laughing emoji. "I'll be waiting in the employee parking lot."
I can't help the small smile that tugs at my lips. "Clever girl," I murmur, already heading for the door. Time to solidify this ruse.
The sight of her waiting in the parking lot steals my breath. Moonlight catches in her dark hair, making it shine like polished obsidian. I grip the steering wheel harder, my claws threatening to emerge through my human disguise. Focus. This is business, nothing more.
"My hero," she says, sliding into the passenger seat. Her scent fills the car - jasmine and something uniquely her. My scales ripple beneath the hologram.
"Hungry?" I manage to ask, though what I really want is to taste those perfect lips again.
"Starving."
I take her to an all-night diner, one of those chrome and neon places that dot the city. Over coffee and pancakes, we construct our fictional romance.
"So we met here at the club six months ago?" She taps her fork against her plate. "That works. Simple enough to remember."
"Is there anything else I should know about you?"
Her eyes narrow. "Like what?"
"Well..." I lean forward, dropping my voice. "Any tattoos in interesting places?"
"How is that relevant to our pretend relationship?"
"It might come up in conversation."
"How in the hell would that ever come up in conversation?" Her laugh rings out, bright and genuine. It draws an answering smile from me before I can suppress it.
I watch her sip her coffee, memorizing the way her nose crinkles when she smiles. Her wit, her fire - it's intoxicating. Fora moment, I let myself imagine this is real. That we're just a normal couple sharing a late-night meal.
But we're not. And I need to remember that.
A flash of light catches my attention. Through the diner's front window, I spot at least a dozen photographers with expensive cameras. The paparazzi found us.
"Welcome to the downside of dating a billionaire." I keep my voice low, meant only for her ears. "Even just for pretend."
Her laugh sends electricity down my spine. "Then let's really give them a show."
Before I can react, she shrugs off her coat. The cheerleader uniform from Area 51 makes my mouth go dry - all bare legs and taut stomach. My hands clench as she crawls across the table, sending our coffee cups clattering.
She slides into my lap like she belongs there. Her lips find mine and coherent thought vanishes. Camera flashes explode like fireworks through my closed eyelids. The taste of her overwhelms my senses - coffee and syrup and that indefinable something that is purely Raven.
I kiss her back, my fingers tangling in her hair. The photographers outside go wild, their cameras clicking like insects. But I barely notice them anymore. All I can focus on is the soft warmth of her body against mine, the way she melts into me as if we were made to fit together.
For this moment, I let myself forget it's all pretend. I let myself believe she wants this as much as I do.
Table of Contents
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