A small-town, fake relationship romance
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I’ve gotten into my fair share of awkward situations… Although, asking a random stranger to be my fake boyfriend is by far the worst.
In my defense, it was an act of desperation. An act I hope will keep away the men in town who see me as their ticket to becoming the mayor’s son-in-law.
But I have a plan.
1. Date my fake boyfriend long enough for the news to spread across town.
2. Have a very public breakup that leaves me too heartbroken to move on.
3. Continue living my happily single life.
There’s only one problem… Harris wasn’t supposed to be the kind of man I’ve always wanted.
There’s no denying the sparks that fly between us. Just when I’m about to give him my heart, he does the one thing I can’t forgive.
Our breakup is public all right, and the heartbreak is real.
“Oh my goodness,” my head drops down as my chin hits my chest and I blow out a deep breath from my mouth. I look up and find Harris’s amused eyes waiting for me. “Thank you so much. I’m not the best when thinking on my feet and I needed a really good excuse to get him to take the hint that I wasn’t interested and you were just standing there, a few feet away staring at jerky, and I moved without thinking about a terrible outcome.” I swallow a deep gasp of air as I finish, rubbing my thighs with my sweaty palms.
“It’s okay.” He lifts his eyebrows but the hint of a smile ghosts on his lips
“So,” I pause and look into his pretty eyes. “Hey, I’m Poppy. Want to be my fake boyfriend for a night?” I bite down on my bottom lip, fighting the urge to let my blush make an appearance. Gosh, I can’t get myself into normal messes, like normal people. Instead, I somehow wrangle myself into this weird situation.
Harris scratches his scruffy jaw and says, “I’ve been asked a lot of things in my life, but this is a first. That guy looks like a douche, so I can help you out.”
I deflate, letting the tension go like a limp balloon, and my shoulders sag. “You’re the world’s best lifesaver. Where were you when the Titanic hit that iceberg?” I cringe at my terrible joke, but Harris chuckles.
“Guess I was a few decades too late.”
©Fabiola Francisco, unedited & subject to change