His Fake Girlfriend.

Chapter 5.

Chapter 5

“Hi,” replied back the hunky brown haired man. I laughed internally and diverted my eyes towards his appearance. One of his dark green eyes were hidden behind his messily styled hair, which flopped down on his forehead carelessly. He was tall. Not the “I-need-to-look-up-at-your-face” kind of tall, but “if-i-wanna-kiss-you-i-need-to-stand-on-my-toes” kind of tall. It was ironic how in only 48 hours, I had already managed to visualize a kiss of every boy I had come across. Sad really. But, if you hadn't even had your first kiss in at the age of twenty two, then it was just a strong desire to want a man in life. Jack. The name-for some strange reason- suited his face. He looked like a Jack.

Another interested choruses of “hello” and “hi” were exchanged as all of us began analyzing one another. Normally under any other circumstances, I would have blushed. Blushed madly. Right now though, for some strafe reason a burst of confidence was building up inside me. It was unreal. Unreal how I had managed to run off from my life, run off from my home, run off from my father...and yet deeply, I didn't feel remorseful. I had always wished to be granted liberty. Like a caterpillar waiting...no wanting to get its wings and fly away. Arranged marriage to a complete stranger wasn't something I had pictured in my head about y wedding day as a child. In my mind, my marriage was the best day of my life: a fairytale come true. I closed my eyes for a brief second and smiled. Taking it all in. Breathing in the air of freedom. It was like taking a breath of oxygen for the first time in life, that's how much I had starved after my freedom. Now, there was absolutely no one to tell me what to do and what not to do. I loved it.

“Sooo,” Rosie smirked lustfully twirling her blonde hair repeatedly around her slim fingers. This was a killer look for all men. Both English and American. Not a shock really, my best friend was utterly stunning. Every bit of her was alluring to any men. Therefore, from personal experience, these American men were already smitten.

“Where are you two beautiful ladies from?”

Rosie giggled and I simply rolled my eyes. This was like a daily routine, but the roles were swapped. In the kingdom, it used to be me with all the unfortunate attention, but now, it was Rosie. I was happy this way. To be honest, I didn't really want someone unless I knew there was something special. Why waste your time trying to find prince Charming when fate could bring him to you? Boys came and went, but girls-they were different. Just like Rosie: hoe she'd been there for me during my first heart break, how she had held on to me whispering encouraging words. I loved and respected her for it.

“The land of the Queen,” she answered. “And, I guess you lads are proud Americans?”

“Got that right,” laughed a blond headed man named Matt. He had a button-up shirt on, with his collar undone messily. Half of his chest was exposed because of the opened buttons. I guess to any other poor girl, his look would be a huge turn on, but fortunately to the virgin body of mine, it made no difference whatsoever.

“Anywhere particular in this grand state of America?” I asked, speaking for the first time. There's no harm in trying, right?

The four men looked over at time, possibly only noticing me for the first time. Couldn't blame them, if you had a goddess like Rosaline Kenyon standing beside you, it wasn't such an astonishment.