The Boyfriend Bid (The Girlfriend Request)

by Jodie Andrefski

  Sarah pushed off and sailed around twenty feet. I was about to cheer for her just as she must have hit some loose gravel, because the next thing I knew she flew off the board and landed hard several feet away.

  I raced over and knelt beside her.

  “Are you okay? Let me see. Where does it hurt?” I searched for signs of blood or rips in her clothing.

  She held her left ankle and winced. “I’m fine.”

  I looked at her face. She’d gone pale, her jaw clenched, and I could tell that she was in pain.

  “Sarah, you’re not fine. Let me see.” I rolled up the leg of her jeans and pushed her sock down. I pressed gently against the bare skin around her ankle bone.

  She whimpered.

  It was starting to swell. Shit. I’d caused this. My brilliant plan had caused Sarah to get hurt.

  She tucked her chin against her chest and bit her lip. Her eyes glistened, and I knew she was trying not to cry.

  “Oh, Sarah.” I reached out and put one arm around her shoulders and under her arm, while I used the other to scoop beneath her knees before I stood up.

  “No, don’t, you don’t have to carry me,” she protested.

  “I don’t want you walking on that ankle.”

  “Honest, I’ll be fine.” Her chin wobbled. She twisted her head left and right, searching, and I finally realized what she was looking for.

  “Turn them off,” I directed.

  “What?”

  “The mics. I can’t reach mine. Turn yours and mine both off.”

  She nodded and flipped the power switch to off on both.

  Carefully carrying Sarah in my arms, I marched toward the fence, jaw clenched. “That’s enough for tonight. Camera away.”

  Elle pulled back from where she’d been busy snapping photos of the whole thing. She opened her mouth to speak, but I cut her off.

  “I mean it. Either you put the camera away, now, or this whole thing is done.”

  She knew I meant it. She nodded and put the camera in the bag.

  I carried Sarah to the truck and placed her inside, careful not to bump her foot on anything.

  “You sure it’s okay there?” I asked. “You can have my sweatshirt to prop it up.”

  “No, I’m good, honest.” She looked me in the eyes. “Thank you, Chance.” She paused. “I mean it, for everything tonight. For helping me, and making them…” She looked down then. “I’m sorry I messed up our date. I feel bad.”

  I lifted her chin and brushed her cheek with my thumb. “Don’t. None of this is your fault. I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m so sorry you got hurt. I blame myself for all of this.”

  She reached up and covered my hand with hers. For that split second, I felt it…that feeling I got sometimes when we were together, that maybe, just maybe, she felt something more, too. But then she smiled and gave my hand a squeeze before letting go.

  “Don’t blame yourself,” she said.

  She blinked back a few tears. She must have really been in pain.

  “After all, I knew what I was getting myself into,” she said. “It’s all good.” And she leaned back against the headrest and closed her eyes. I shut the door.

  Her words didn’t make me feel any better.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Sarah

  I want to fly

  I’m ready to burn down all the walls

  that I’ve been building up inside ~ Sleeping with Sirens

  “Well, I’m glad you’re okay.”

  Emma sat next to me on the floor of Buy the Book. We were in the back, coffees in hand. Somehow this had become a spot where we’d had many of our heart-to-heart talks since I’d been working here.

  “Yeah, the doctor said it was just a sprain. He gave me an ACE bandage to keep it wrapped for a couple of days, and I’ve been icing it.”

  Emma rubbed my leg in sympathy. “It sounds like Chance was really nice about the whole thing.”

  I nodded. “He was. I felt really bad. I think he blames himself, even though I kept telling him not to.”

  Emma tapped her fingers on my leg, and I could tell she wanted to say something.

  “What?” I asked.

  “It just sounds from the way you’ve been talking about him lately like…” She paused.

  “Like what?” I had a feeling I knew where she was headed. Emma wasn’t stupid, and she knew me too well. I might be able to hide parts of myself from some people, but not from her.

  “I don’t know. Like maybe things are different between you two than they were at first?” She looked me in the eyes. “I know going out with him wasn’t your idea, and that you kind of felt forced into the whole plan to date Chance, and I swear I’m not trying to push something now or anything like that—”

  “I know.” I took a sip of my coffee, trying to work up the courage to say the words out loud. I hadn’t even wanted to admit them to myself, let alone anyone else.

  “Am I right?” she asked softly.

  I leaned back against the bookshelf. “I wish I knew.” I sighed.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Just that.” I shrugged. “I have no clue what’s going on. I mean, he and I talked about it back in the beginning when this whole thing started. We both said we weren’t looking to actually date anyone right now. And he made it clear he’s focused on things other than some winning-auction dates with me.”

  She laughed. “Sarah, very few guys wouldn’t be interested in dating someone as amazing as you.”

  I snorted. “Well, I think we can safely say that Chance is one of those few guys, then.”

  She frowned. “He hasn’t said or done anything to let you think his feelings might have changed from when you first talked about it? I mean, after all, yours have. Maybe his have, too.”

  I shook my head.

  She sighed. “Well, maybe you’re wrong.”

  “I’m not wrong. I wish I were, but I’m not.”

  I’d given Chance signals, or tried to, anyway. If there was any interest, I was pretty sure something would have happened between us by now. Even using the big let’s pretend to give them a show idea hadn’t lit a fire under him. The most we’d done was hold hands for a few minutes. Well, besides the dance. But the man at the retirement center had to even tell Chance to dance with me. He hadn’t wanted to do it on his own. It was hopeless.

  “Sarah, he isn’t Doug.” Emma’s voice was soft. “And he’s not your father, either.” She squeezed my hand.

  “I know.”

  “Do you really?” She paused. “Don’t be so afraid of getting hurt that you aren’t willing to open up and tell him how you feel.”

  I shook my head again. “The thing is, I know how I feel, but I’m just not sure how I’m supposed to act, I guess.”

  “I don’t think there is any specific way you’re supposed to act. I think you should just follow your heart.”

  But I didn’t think I could do that. Not after we’d told each other that we both understood that neither of us wanted a real relationship and that all of these dates were just for show. And not after Chance had confided in me about how important his goals were to him. Heck, we’d even shaken on it. It didn’t seem fair to suddenly want to change the rules mid-game. He deserved better than that.

  The bell tinkled up front. Voices carried our way, chatting about the new novel they couldn’t wait to try.

  “Work calls,” I said and pushed myself up, careful not to put my full weight on my sore ankle.

  “Okay, I’m gonna head home. But if you need me…”

  “I’ll call.” I smiled.

  Emma reached out and gave me a quick hug. “Love ya, girlie.”

  “Love ya back. Now get out of here before I get fired.”

  She laughed and waved as she walked away.

  I turned to help the customers find their books. Back to real life.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chance

  I act like I’m tougher than steel

  With a
heart like stone

  but ya know it ain’t real ~ Bad Company

  It felt like I was being called down to the principal’s office.

  Sarah and I had both received an email from Erica asking us to come in for a meeting at the newspaper office today during ninth period. The fact that she’d sent the message to both of us made me wonder what was up. Maybe they were calling the whole thing off, since Sarah got hurt.

  The idea that I wouldn’t have an excuse to spend time with her anymore was depressing.

  The door was already open when I arrived at the appointed time. Erica wasn’t the only one waiting. Hannah, Josh, and Sarah already sat around a table in the center of the room. I was surprised to see that even Elle was here. She offered me a smile and a quick wave, while Erica looked all business, a thick folder in front of her, with her red pencil stuck over her ear.

  Sarah gave me a small smile as I sat down. She was the only one other than Elle who did.

  I looked from one somber face to the next. “What’s going on?”

  Erica leaned forward, resting her hands on the closed manila folder in front of her. “First of all, I want to thank everyone for coming in today.”

  A few people nodded.

  I felt like we were at a board meeting for some high-stakes secret corporate takeover that I knew nothing about.

  “Chance, Sarah, you already know Josh and Hannah.”

  All too well, thank you. No wonder Hollywood types moaned about being followed by paparazzi. “Elle was kind enough to free up some time in her schedule to come in.” Erica nodded in Elle’s direction.

  This whole thing seemed pretty formal for discussing some posts on a website run by a high school student. Erica was clearly taking the whole thing too damn seriously.

  I’d been purposely avoiding reading the blog posts about Sarah and me. After the first one, I figured it was better that way. Every now and then, one of the guys would still forward me a random photo or story they’d stumbled across online somewhere, but it seemed the frenzy had calmed down, thank goodness. We weren’t that big a deal in the scheme of things, when you considered there was real news out there—politics, business, heck, even an especially riveting story about a starlet in rehab for the fifth time this year would be fine by me.

  “The thing is,” Erica went on, “you’ve gone about midway through your dating timetable at this point.”

  I already knew that. But thanks for the unwelcome reminder.

  “And we advertised the initial event as the ‘Dates with Heart Benefit Auction.’” She actually used air quotes as she spoke. “I ran with that theme on my blog posts about the two of you. But the thing is, we’re not seeing much heart or romance.”

  I looked over at Sarah. Her eyes widened. Talk about awkward.

  I leaned forward. “Erica, I don’t think that anyone really expects us to just fall in love from the auction for this story,” I said. “That’s not really what it was meant to be.”

  Sarah looked down and drummed her fingers against the table.

  Josh spoke up. “I think what Erica means to say is that up until now, most of your dates have been…” He paused.

  “Boring.” This came from Elle. “I might as well just come right out and say it.” She looked across the table. “What’s the point of beating around the bush?”

  Erica nodded. Josh didn’t nod, but he didn’t argue, either. Hannah seemed to want to stay out of it.

  Boring? They thought our dates were boring? If they couldn’t see what an awesome time I had whenever I was with Sarah, then that was their problem, not mine. I pushed back my chair, ready to stand up and tell them they could all shove it.

  “So what do you want us to do?”

  This came from Sarah. I stopped, hands on the table. What was she doing? Didn’t she understand that she didn’t have to act some role for these people? She wasn’t boring in the slightest—not to me.

  “All we’re suggesting is maybe kick things up a notch,” Josh said.

  “Kick things up a notch,” I echoed. Like that made sense. What did she expect, us rolling around in the back of my truck to titillate their readers? I wanted to reach over the table and punch him in his scrawny face. And I wasn’t usually the punching type.

  “I think that’s a poor word choice,” Erica interjected. “Maybe just show more of your romantic sides on the dates,” she suggested.

  The code name Sarah and I came up with flashed through my head. Guess we hadn’t done as well with that as we’d planned. We looked at each other. I raised an eyebrow, silently asking her if she was okay with all this.

  “So what are your suggestions?” she asked.

  I took that as a yes, so I sat back down and listened as Erica filled us in on what she would like to see on our dates moving forward.

  “It’s not that this is just for my blog. It’s bigger than that. Initially when this went out and received wider attention, it was great for the charity, too. We’d like to see that keep going as well.” She leafed through the folder.

  “I think people appreciated that the story wasn’t the usual thing we so often hear about students in the news for…drugs or some terrible crime.” Erica tapped her pencil against the folder and looked first at Sarah, then at me. “You two give people something to smile about, to feel happy about. People love a love story.”

  Sarah had said similar words when we’d come up with Operation Romance.

  Erica went over some ideas, with the others joining in, while asking for our thoughts and feedback.

  Sarah answered when someone would ask her a direct question, but she didn’t volunteer any suggestions or make a point to meet my eyes again. When the meeting was over, she slipped out of the room before I could talk to her. Guess that made it clear where she still stood on the whole thing—she would go through the motions, do her part for the remaining three weeks, and then her role was finished.

  It was obvious that time couldn’t come fast enough for her.

  Well, that just meant I had to figure out a way to change her mind, because I couldn’t lose her, not when I now knew what it meant to have her in my life.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Sarah

  Now, I got pins and needles on my tongue

  Anticipating what’s to come ~ Kelly Clarkson

  I tugged at the hem of my dress. I should have worn something else, something with more…skirt to it. It hadn’t appeared this short when I’d put it on at home and looked at myself in the bathroom mirror, yet somehow between there and the restaurant it seemed to have shrunk several inches.

  Since the meeting where we’d been instructed to up the romance level a bit in our dates (I guess farm animals and hard hats didn’t do it for their readers), I’d decided to go a more traditional route this week. We were supposed to plan a date we thought the other person would enjoy. So, I’d decided to take Chance to a small Italian restaurant in town that served incredible food and fit the description for the romantic ambiance the paper was looking for.

  Thank goodness Erica told me that the Full Hearts blog would foot the bill for our remaining dates, given her new request to romance things up. She’d said she earned money from placing ads on the site and we could use a portion of what she earned for our dates. She’d made it very clear that none of the funds were from any of the charity donations made on the blog, so I’d agreed. It wasn’t like I had money to spare for this.

  But Erica had also been clear about warning me of the obvious spending limits and told me not to plan anything too extravagant or go booking any jets. As if. I didn’t think the small amount she’d told me about was going to get me any frequent flyer miles.

  I leaned in over the row of sinks toward the restroom mirror. Dark circles shadowed my eyes, proof that I hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, worrying about the date this evening. I opened my beaded handbag and pulled out concealer, then applied a few small dots under each eye before smoothing the makeup onto my skin. It helped some. I reached
for a tube of colored gloss. I wasn’t usually super big on makeup, but figured a little bit of color couldn’t hurt. I swiped the wand over my lips and rubbed them together. Besides that, I’d only worn a touch of mascara and a subtle hint of kohl liner to bring out my eyes. I studied myself and wondered what Chance saw when he looked at me.

  I’d never been one to obsess about my looks. I didn’t see the point. I’d inherited decent bone structure from my mother, who gave me her high cheekbones and wide eyes. My hair came from my father’s side of the family, as did my height. I was happy with my body, for the most part; I may not be the next cover of the Victoria’s Secret catalogue, but I’d been brought up to believe that beauty came in all shapes and sizes.

  But even knowing all of that, I couldn’t help but wish I could see myself through Chance’s eyes. Did he ever think of me that way when we were together? Did he think I was pretty? Or had the thought never crossed his mind?

  I grabbed my makeup and pushed it back in my bag, snapping it closed. It didn’t matter. I had to stop living in some dream world. I’d go out there, enjoy the time I had with him, and I’d be okay with that. After all, it wasn’t like I had any other choice.

  The reservation was for seven o’clock. I’d arrived early, not wanting to risk being late and coming in after the others were already here. After all, this was my date for Chance.

  “You can do this.” I took a deep breath, tugged the skirt of my black spaghetti-strap dress down one more time, and walked out of the restroom to the dining room.

  Moretti’s really was perfect. The walls featured paintings of scenes from vineyards that looked so real you could almost smell the grapes. The lighting was dim, but not so dark that you couldn’t see. Votive candles burned at each table, next to a small bud vase that held miniature fresh-cut flowers. Waiters in black dress pants and crisp white shirts carried trays from table to table.

  I slipped into my seat at the table set for two. I wondered if the new budget allowed for Josh and whoever was on camera duty tonight to eat. I placed the linen napkin across my lap and glanced at the slim watch on my wrist. I still had a few minutes.