My Geek of a Fake Boyfriend Works for the CIA?

Chapter 26~ END

THERE WILL BE AN EPILOGUE AND A SURPRISE ANNOUNCEMENT.  Stay tuned! I hope this is worth it... but don't hate me at the end.

~Ainsley’s Pov~

                I’d never noticed the flecks of bronze in his creamy coffee irises until now.

                “Landon,” I greeted him slowly.  What was he doing here, right now, of all places?  He couldn’t possibly be looking for a Christmas party dress.

                His eyes flickered over me, settling first on my salted pretzel and then moving to linger on my vomit-colored cast.

                Once again, I sarcastically thanked Seneva and her choice in my head.

                “Ains,” he greeted back with a smile.

                I pursed my lips at his term of endearment and frowned.  “What are you doing here, jerkface?”

                “Must you always be so cruel?” he rolled his eyes.  “You haven’t seen me in months, ever since you got me expelled,” he sneered unhappily, “yet you’re still holding a grudge?  Look, I know I was kind of a beast to you because I was bitter after you dumped me, but can we please move past it?”

                His pleading was earnest.

                My eyes narrowed further.  My senses detected bull, but…

                He sighed and continued.  “I’m an ass.  I admit it.  And I’m sorry,” he said, pouting his lips a little.  Landon averted his gaze and self-consciously stuck his hands in his jeans pockets.  “I don’t want things to forever remain tense between us, Ains.  We used to be good friends before we dated, before we had a bad history.”

                I mulled this over and took a bite of my pretzel, which was now cooling down due to the frost outside air, and continued to eye him critically.  He seemed… genuine.  Sincere.  It was more to be said from when we’d been dating, and even before that, when we were friends.  He scarcely apologized.

                “Can we at least attempt to rebuild our former friendship?” he asked shyly, glancing up at me through dark blonde lashes.

                Unbeknownst to others, despite the attitude I always had at the tips of my fingers as my defensive shell, I was never really one to hold a grudge.  I may be furious at your for a few days, but as soon as the anger took too much of my energy I snapped out of it, forgave, and moved on.

                Landon, perceptively sensing my internal monologue, smiled and stuck his hand out.  “Truce?”

                I studied it.  Gone was the ever-permanent hint of dirt from the football field.  Gone were the ragged nails.  These fingernails were cleaner and trimmed, yet his palms were still calloused from years of rough football playing and practice.

                “Truce,” I finally caved.  We really did have a good history before our ugly dating days.  “But Landon, it’s just friendship and only friendship,” I clarified to him sternly.

                He laughed.  “I wouldn’t ask for anything more.”

                We stood around making small talk for a few awkward minutes before he sheepishly grinned and asked if I could help him find a gift for his mom.  I had to admit, I was a pretty darned good gift shopper myself, so as we walked around the mall I asked him if his mother had been dropping little hints lately on what would make her happy to receive at Christmas.