Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Maybe it’s work? Or maybe, like me, he’s finding our proximity to be torture?
Since this isn’t a formal class, I’m not walking around adjusting people’s poses, and it’s a good thing, because there’s no way I could lay my hands on him today. I’m afraid I’d let my hands linger far too long, or start touching more than I should.
But that’s not a problem now, since he’s left. Maybe Max will come out and take his place?
Trying not to worry about the reason for Miles’s departure, I carry on with the class, resisting the urge to cut it short so I can go investigate.
When we’re finally at shavasana, the still pose at the end, I should be enjoying the warmth of the sun on my face and the cool, ocean breeze on my skin, but it’s impossible to quiet my busy mind.
I wonder how Max reacted when Miles told him he’d kissed me, and now that I’ve kissed one of them, and Aunt Iris witnessed it—assuming she remembers—will we be expected to kiss in front of others? Would it be strange if we don’t? I wonder how Max’s kiss would feel, compared to his brother’s.
Someone clears their throat, and I realize I have no idea how long I’ve been lying here daydreaming. “When you’re ready,” I say in my soothing teacher voice, “roll onto your side, and then slowly come to a seated position.” As soon as I’m upright, I look around for Miles, but there’s no sight of him or Max.
I’m not the only one looking for them.
“Where did Max go?” Aunt Iris says as soon as I conclude with a “Namaste.”
“Maybe you made him uncomfortable,” Sadie says, in a voice just loud enough for me and Aunt Iris to hear.
The older woman is unfazed. Maybe she didn’t hear Sadie, or she’s choosing to ignore her. “Thank you for the class, dear,” she says to me before she strolls away with a cousin.
Sadie tells her bridesmaids that she’ll see them later as she hangs back to help me take care of the mats.
“How are things going with Max?” Her voice is filled with excitement, as if something besides a fake dating situation were going on, and a wave of guilt ripples through me at all the thoughts I was just thinking about Max and Miles.
I keep my voice level. “Things are fine.”
“Max is so hot!” She jabs a finger at my chest. “You didn’t tell me how good looking he is.”
“I thought you were off the market,” I deadpan, but she ignores my snark.
“Have you noticed the way he looks at you?”
“What?” I’m adding a mat to the two already tucked under my arm, and they all start to slip.
“He likes you. I think your fake dating arrangement might turn into something real.”
A little bubbly, fluttery, fizzy sensation tingles inside my chest, as I scramble to remember who Sadie’s seen me with, and which of the men she thinks is looking at me in that kind of way. But then I remember that I don’t want anything more than a fake date, so it doesn’t matter.
I have the urge to tell Sadie that Max is a twin, but it would be too much of a distraction right now. It’s bad enough that I’ve asked her to keep a secret about my relationship being fake.
“At the very least, you should have a fun little fling while you’re here,” she says. “Has Max kissed you yet?”
I juggle the mats again as heat rushes to my cheeks, and I wonder if I should tell my sister what happened with Aunt Iris last night. It’s embarrassing, though, kissing at the prompting of a relative. And to get technical, it wasn’t Max who kissed me, so, feeling a little bit guilty, I shake my head.
“I bet he will. Callie, you can’t tell me you don’t see how he acts around you.”
“He’s pretending to be my boyfriend,” I remind her. “And he’s a good actor.”
Sadie shakes her head. “Unh uh. I know that look. You’ll see.”
That weird bubbly feeling resurfaces. Why am I getting excited about the possibility of something I don’t even want to happen?
Sadie changes the subject to talk about the upcoming roller rink outing, but a part of my mind stays preoccupied with the attraction issue.
If what she was saying is true, and Miles—or Max?—is really interested in me, maybe a wedding fling wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen. No strings, no promises, just some fun like everyone tells me I need.
But there’s still the logistical issue of sharing the room with both of them. We don’t have privacy.
And there’s one more nagging thought: If the men can so convincingly pretend to be the same person, even when their personalities are so different, couldn’t they just as easily pretend to be interested in me for the sake of the fake date assignment?