Twisted Deal | A not-so cliche fake dating romance

Chapter Eight

Sebastian

Jen: Fake dating mission #1?

I read the text twice, and neither of those times helped me to comprehend what it meant. So I type out a reply.

Bash: What does this mean?

Jen: What does this entail*
Jen: And it means that you have to hold up your side of the deal.

At that, it finally clicked what she was saying. So I type out a simple reply.

Bash: Yes.

There could really not be another answer to this offer because of the way the first one had gone down. The time where I had woken up by finding that Jen had slept on the floor the entire night. I had been asleep early and didn't know exactly when she situated herself on the floor, but I imagine it was a long time. I hated the idea of her having a rough night just because she was helping me out, so I knew that this time I'd repay the favor.

Jen asks me to come to her apartment, so twenty minutes later, I'm knocking on her door. She opens the door, and before I can get a look inside, she slips out. I step back to let her walk past me, and as she does so, she says, "So listen. I'd actually been debating whether to text you or not, so the dinner is kind of happening right now."

"Dinner?" I ask, raising my eyebrow. I wasn't under the impression that we were doing anything with Andrea and Miles. I try to think back to the schedule that was sent out. Jen explains, breaking me out of my thoughts. "Dinner with my family in thirty minutes."

She walks in front of me, and I catch up with her in a little jog. "What the hell?" I ask, my eyes widening as I try to imagine being in front of a dinner table with parents I knew nothing about. "Dinner?"

"Yeah," Jen says and then cringes. "I'm sorry I hadn't told you earlier."

"Yeah," I say with an obvious tone. "You could have texted me this as well."

Jen gives me an apologetic look as she leads us to the elevator. I step inside, and she sighs as she stands in front of me. "I'm sorry, Bash. I really was going to sit out of this dinner."

I nod and then ask, "So why'd you finally decide on going?"

She runs a hand through her hair, seemingly exhausted. Glancing up at the ceiling, she says, "Because I'm tired of it all. It was one thing to make such a big mistake as to date my professor, but to have that always reminded by my family was worse. It's like I'll never move on from it."

"You told me," I say softly. "So you thought bringing me along tonight would make your family finally see that you've moved on?"

"And that if you were beside me, they would never dare to bring Patrick up—but of course they call him Professor Sandoval," she says, reaching into her hair and holding it up. I watch as she pulls her hair into a high ponytail before she undoes it.

"That could work," I comment, and then notice that she is redoing the ponytail. Giving her a light smile, I say, "The hair is okay."

"Huh?" she asks, seemingly distracted at the task at hand.

I shrug, gesturing to her hair, "You should keep it up."

"But then I won't be able to hide behind it," she argues, and I try not to chuckle. She ties her hair up one more time before she lets go of it fully. The ponytail is finally on top of her hair, untouched. I nod, giving her a reassuring smile. Jen sighs as the elevator door opens up. We walk out to the lobby and toward the exit. Opening the car door for her, she thanks me before slipping in. I round the corner and to my side.