Twisted Deal | A not-so cliche fake dating romance

Chapter Thirteen

Jennifer

So, Bash had actually been able to get a few girls numbers. I had thought that because of the way he acts—reserved and so in love with Hannah—he wouldn't have game. But when we get back to my apartment and I invite him in, I'm gaping at just the phone.

I bite my lip, looking up at Bash. "And these are all real girls numbers?"

"Don't act too surprised now," Bash says with a laugh as he reaches forward and corrects the blanket that was sloping off my shoulders. I hadn't gotten a chance to change after we got back, so I've been wrapped in one of the many throw blankets I carry. One thing about living alone was that I could keep my crazy obsessions without anyone to judge me. It's perfect.

"I'm not surprised in a bad way!" I comment with a chuckle as I pass his phone toward him. I move my hair off my shoulder and grin at him. "I just didn't think you'd be able to do it."

"Do what?" he asks, smirking. "Get a number," he teases, holding up the phone. "Because baby, I've got the number."

I don't let my mind wander on the way he used the nickname with me, all slow and soft manner, and instead move on. "Yeah, I know," I say, rolling my eyes. I tighten the blanket around myself and say, "I guess I'm just shocked that you truly went out and did it. No offense, but the entire time I've known you, it's always been you thinking about Hannah. I could barely get you to smile in my direction when we are with her."

"You jealous?"

"Drunk Bash is so much more flirtatious," I quip with a finger moving back and forth in front of his face to stop him. "And I thought Andrea was bad."

"Hey!" he shouts softly, his eyes widened comically. "That's just offense. Andrea attacked Miles as soon as he came home; you don't see me doing that."

The thought of him attacking me in that way makes my stomach flutter for a second. It also makes the alcohol in my body cause my face to heat. "Yeah, don't do that."

"I won't," he promises, his hands going up in defense as he so unsubtly scooted away from me. "I don't do that anyway."

"Do what?" I muse softly as I watch him.

"Have sex with girls outside of a relationship," he answers back honestly.

I feel my lips tug in a smile as I say, "Hey! We are considered to be in a relationship."

Bash laughs at that, shaking his head at me. "Yeah, still not happening.

"Prude," I comment sarcastically, rolling my eyes. Biting my lips to not laugh out loud at that, I say, "And don't worry, I'm not interested in you anyway."

"Good," he comments, and when he does, his eyes find mine. For a second, I'm scared when I look into his eyes; the thought of us being something flashes through my mind. I look away as quick as the thought appears, cursing my mind for going there. Of course it would be in my drunken nature to think of such things. Bash nods and says, "And also, it was easy for me to get their numbers before they recognized me."

"Number 16," I say with a smile, and he shares that smile with me.

Running a hand through his hair, he says, "Yeah, that. Most of them recognized me fairly quickly, and you know."

"What did they do?" I ask, leaning forward to engage with him better.

"They asked for me to sign my autograph," Bash starts and then grins slowly. "And I told them that I'd do it if it meant getting their number in exchange."

"Wow," I breathe, already laughing. "You totally played them."

"Hey," Bash starts with a less contained smile. "It was them who asked for my autograph; they really did like me."