Fake It - OP

Chapter 24

I woke with the sun, creeping its way through the half-drawn blinds. I closed my eyes to the light, drowning in the morning haze that wouldn't try to shake just yet. Not in the slightest do I want to leave the warmth of my sheets, the blankets that circled my body.

Only, it wasn't a blanket that circled my torso, or my too-big Taylor Swift t-shirt that I packed for pyjamas. In fact, I didn't have any blankets around my waist, they were bunched and knotted, tossed all over the bed everywhere but where I was. The weight around my waist was an arm, heavily weighted across my stomach with a hand cupping the side of my body, along my waist. The morning haze I wanted to hold onto for a few more minutes instantaneously dissipated and wide awake now I turned, slowly, not wanting to wake the person in my bed in order to see who it was.

I really shouldn't be surprised by the sight of the messy brown hair, the high cheekbones and full lips. We did share a hotel room after all. It shouldn't be a surprise for our drunk adventures last night to have ended back in our hotel room together. I should be glad we both made it back safely. But Oscar was in my bed. It was his arm was around my waist, and he is the one with the few bunched sheets that were left on the bed bunched around his lower half. His chest was bare. I had no idea if he was dressed.

I peeked down at myself. I was covered, thankfully. But the clothes that did cover my body were doing their job terribly. My shorts, the ones I wore under my dress last night clung to my upper thighs, only barely covering me due to how much they must have ridden up in the night. But as much as my shorts still remained, my dress was gone. Instead, I was wearing a bright orange McLaren team shirt, which like my shorts was barely covering what it needed to. Thankfully I was covered, but Oscar's arm wasn't in any part touching a piece of clothing.

I should run, or at least move to the other bed. This wasn't supposed to happen. We weren't dating, we weren't barely friends. Does this happen this fast in romance books? Movies? Oscar's arm around my waist shifted but he didn't wake. The material of his team shirt that covered me shifted up with his movements. His hand was now cupping the side of my ribcage with the rest of his arm completely draped over my stomach. His head rested just a few inches from the side of my chest as if at one point in the night my boobs served as his pillow. The worst part about this mess though. It wasn't the fact that the clock read just after six in the morning, or the fact I didn't remember anything from after we got in the cab last night. It was the fact that my entire body was on fire. My skin was tingling outwards from his touch. I found myself hoping that Oscar would stay asleep, just so I could enjoy the feeling of his breath on the bare skin of my side, the warmth of his body against mine. And how he looked. So peaceful with the sun rays casting shadows across his body without a crumb of worry, doubt or stress dancing through his expression.

But I couldn't, we weren't supposed to be like this. We were supposed to be faking this thing. I shouldn't be craving his touch.

I shouldn't be falling for him.

The whole reason why he wanted to fake a relationship was because he didn't want a real relationship. And now here I was wanting him to wake up and kiss me.

God, I'm an idiot.

Not being able to bring myself to dislodge his arm and climb from the bed I laid back into the pillows and stared at the ceiling. I lost track of time, ignoring the clock for a while and I hadn't realized when I slipped back into sleep until I woke for the second time this morning, noticing when the bed rose and the warmth from Oscar's arm around my waist left. All of a sudden I was cold. My eyes snapped open and I looked up around the room. Oscar was making a mad dash to the bathroom. I was able to glimpse the pants, the same from last night that still covered him. Even his belt remained secured in the belt loops. The tightness in my chest loosened at the revelation and constricted at the same time. We shared a bed last night. Not because we had sex. But because obviously in some drunk manner, we both thought to hold each other through sleep. Not to be separate, distanced by the few-foot gap between the beds but to hold each other, sharing the same sheets.

I heard a few clashes and bangs around the bathroom before the noise of the shower came on. Realizing I should probably get dressed into something that properly covers my skin, I stood from the bed and dressed into some more decent clothes. I avoided the few mirrors around the room, knowing I most likely looked horrible. I needed to shower, so I didn't put on the clothes that I packed to wear today. Instead, I replaced Oscar's team shirt with my Taylor Swift one which was larger and longer to cover up my torso which was still craving Oscar's touch. I also swapped the tight spandex shorts for some longer ones with a drawstring waist. I crawled back into my bed and pulled the single sheet on the bed up over my legs and waited for Oscar to be done in the bathroom.

I felt so incredibly guilty. He was probably thinking just like I am in questioning what exactly happened last night and based on how things looked it wasn't all that great. Or I suppose that depends on perspective. Besides both of us waking up wearing parts of our clothes from last night it looked like we slept together. Which again, is the exact opposite of what should happen in a fake relationship. I heard the shower shut off and a few minutes of mild panic later, Oscar emerged from the bathroom. He stood for a few seconds, and I sat with my back to the headboard, frozen for a few seconds with him neither of us breaking eye contact.

"Morning," I said in an attempt to break the awkward silence.

"Uh," Oscar was awkward, his hand began to rub the back of his neck. "Did we?"

"I don't think so," I said slowly. "I don't remember either."

Oscar let out a sigh and threw the towel in his hand onto his bed. He was dressed again, his chest covered in a simple t-shirt and sweatpants covered his legs. He took a step forward towards the foot of my bed and fell forwards in a dramatic fashion. Nearly midding my knees with his head. His face was buried face-down in the pillow that rested beside my hip.

"I have never been this hungover in my life," Oscar joked. "I don't like Lando anymore."

Oscar was joking. I spent the last half hour stressing that our fake relationship was going to end after last night. And he wasn't upset, he was joking around about his hangover. I laughed, half in relief, and half because I realized now why he go out of bed so fast after waking up.

"Did you have a cold shower?" I asked. "That would help," Oscar nodded into the pillow and his voice was muffled as he spoke.

"That's all I've had on this trip."

I laughed again, thankful that this was the mood of this morning and not one filled with embarrassment.

"When is your flight today?" I asked.

Oscar turned his head from the pillow, looking up at me before sitting up. "I don't have one."

"Oh," I was very confused. I planned my flight for tomorrow so I had a day to explore Saudi but I assumed the team just booked flights for Oscar on Mondays after the races by default. "When do you fly out then?"

"I fly to Australia tomorrow," Oscar smiled and I looked at him. He looked like he had some sinister plan. "I have two tickets actually, I was hoping you wanted to come with me."

Oscar looked unusually confident, unlike his usual shyness. Oscar had paid for my ticket to Saudi, but I had paid for my ticket back home. The flight I had tomorrow did have free cancellation, I never booked a flight without it, but I would have to make sure it was still outside of the twenty-four-hour cutoff time, otherwise, I would have to go back to Canada. I couldn't afford to cancel it and not get my money back. I reached for my phone, which is thankfully on the nightstand and checked the time I still had three hours to cancel the flight and get my money back. I put my phone back down and looked back at Oscar.

"I would love to come with you to Australia," I said. Deciding on a whim. I would text my mom later. I couldn't help my smile and it only got wider when Oscar smiled too.

"Great!" he said cheerfully and I guess that shower really did help with his hangover because he got up from the bed and made his way to the door of our hotel room.

"Where are you going?" I laughed, still sitting in the bed.

Oscar turned. "I'm going to get us some breakfast from downstairs," he said like it was obvious. "So get ready, don't you want to explore Saudi today?"

I didn't think I could, but I smiled even wider and excitement flooded my limbs making my movements towards the bathroom to shower faster than they should be after a night like last night. I heard Oscar laughing from the other side of the bathroom door, and I heard the hotel room door close after I turned the nozzle for the water in the shower.