Lessons in Faking (Hall Beck University #1)

Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

I stood in front of our lecture hall, in the middle of a busy corridor. Glued into place. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me” slipped past my lips, and I refused to take another step. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shift my gaze. Couldn’t do anything beyond staring.

Like he was a car crash you desperately wanted to look away from, but couldn’t.

In all his glory, there he stood. The white compression shirt loosely tucked into grey sweatpants, long sleeves clinging to every crevice in his arms. Leaning against the wall opposite of our lecture hall, McCarthy’s arms were crossed lazily. The red rose between his fingers stuck out like a sore thumb.

Various insults crossed my mind when I closed the few feet between us.

He lifted his gaze before I got to him, and the amused look that spread across his face told me all I needed to know. McCarthy smiled brightly, tongue between his teeth and the dimples in his cheek prominent.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

“You are unbelievable.” My voice was hushed, laced in annoyance.

“I got this for you.” Extending the single red rose toward me, he decided to play dumb. “I remember you told me they were your favorite.” The cruel smile on his lips made this worse. “Or was it your least favorite? Ah, damn. I can’t remember now.”

McCarthy’s head fell back, pretending to remember what he already knew. I tried not to follow the bobbing of his Adam’s apple when he swallowed heavily, stalling for time. His teeth latched onto his bottom lip as he looked back at me, trying his best to hide the insufferable grin threatening to spill across his features.

He was failing. Miserably. “Doesn’t matter now, does it?”

Groaning, I finally plucked the rose out of his hand, managing to dig my thumb into not one, but two thorns on first contact. Two seconds, and I wanted to throw the thing back in his face.

“God,” I pretended to swoon instead. “What did I do to deserve such an attentive boyfriend?” My voice was laced with loving kindness. My face basically told him to go fuck himself.

“All the right things,” he mocked with a wink. His shoulder gently bumped mine when he brushed past me toward the lecture hall beginning to fill up. He lingered in front of it until I decided to follow his lead, and I managed to catch a last glimpse of the back of Henry’s head, as he rushed into the room.

McCarthy and I walked through the open doors together.

“You know why I don’t like them?” I asked rhetorically, attention on the rose as I twirled it between my fingers. He shuffled into the same row as if it was second nature—normal, even, for us to sit next to each other.

“ Oh-oh, let me guess!” Mocking excitement played in his voice. Letting himself fall into the seat beside me, he went on. “They’re basic, boring, cheap?” He quickly shook his head. “ No! I’ve got it. That one time in your least favorite summer house in the south of France, your brother picked one of the roses off the bushes and blamed it on you. Your allowance was cut in half as a punishment, and how would you be able to survive off a thousand dollars a week, right?” His tone had become even more mocking, trying his best to mimic my voice.

“I sound nothing like that.”

“I mean , the audacity ,” McCarthy went on, still grinning widely. “I totally understand why that would put you off them forever.”

My eyes rolled so forcefully, I feared they might get stuck. I didn’t know why I still struggled to keep a smile off my lips regardless.

“No,” I sighed theatrically, attention shifting from his dimpled smile hesitantly when Professor Carter walked into the hall. She closed the doors behind her with a forceful thud, and I shook my head. “But he did push me into a bush when we were summering in The Hamptons. Consider me traumatized for life.”

I honest to God startled at his laugh. I wasn’t sure how hard he’d tried to hold it back, but the way it spluttered out of him—rang through the entire hall, and earned us both a cruel glance from Carter—it hadn’t been hard enough.

And the real thing was miles… lightyears, ahead of the fake laugh he’d showed off oh so many times during the course of our fake relationship. I had considered it to be nice, but this one—the real one—made it feel halfhearted and weak by comparison. Giggly, somewhat boy-ish and cute. Unexpected. And it was all that it took for my attention to be forced back to him.

McCarthy’s eyes were already wide when they met mine. His hand covered the lips that had been spread into a grin seconds ago, eyes jumping back and forth between the professor and me, seemingly just as confused. His cheeks flushed at the unwanted attention.

“Something funny, McCarthy?” Carter’s voice rang through the room, and even from up here, I could see her dark brow rising dismissively, her eyes darting between us.

The earlier display of amusement washed off his face, his answer as quick as lightning. “No. Sorry.” He raised his voice to make sure it would reach Carter, who simply shrugged.

“Never took Pressley for quite the comedian,” she commented halfheartedly, earning herself a few snickers from the room. After throwing a final glance our way, she focused on her laptop once again.

“You’d be surprised,” McCarthy muttered under his breath. I was sure the words weren’t meant for my ears. It was almost a compliment, after all: something that was unheard of from him.

Smiling, the red rose between my fingers found its way into my bag, and I made sure it didn’t get crushed when I took out my laptop to take notes.

Unfortunately, this wasn’t the end of it. Not by a long shot.

By the end of the week, I had four identical, disgustingly perfect and thorny roses sitting in a vase on my windowsill. One for each day of the week. I pushed the fifth one into the vase, throwing my bag to the floor.

I flung myself onto my bed, with its headboard against the wall, blanket and pillowcases not matching. My emotional support blanket covered the floor, along with… half of the contents of my recessed closet, probably; its doors remained ajar. It was time for a serious deep clean. Though between classes, fake dates and the extra statistics work McCarthy had sentenced me to, there hadn’t been enough time to consider one, never mind actually doing it.

My eyes trailed back to the only thing that seemed orderly in here.

McCarthy was having a field day with these roses. Every time I saw him, he had one in his hand, looking as proud as ever. As if it was the first time he’d given me one and he just couldn’t wait to see my face when he held it out to me. It didn’t matter that it had become predictable by Wednesday.

His nose still scrunched up in the same way when he spotted me. Anticipation still lingered in his every expression, and a wide grin still snuck onto his lips when I rolled my eyes. Every. Time.

My eyes shifting from the sight with one final groan, I tried to concentrate on the task at hand: mustering up the motivation to get ready for the party Henry would be at tonight.

Inevitably, that meant his favorite power couple would be there, too.