A Perfect Fit

15

Isabelle

The two people at the table beside me are going on a first date. The man is anxiously shaking his leg, and the woman is fidgeting around nervously.

I'm not going on a date today, but I'm also nervous. Jittery. I wasn't even nervous when I went on my string of failed dates in an attempt to find a fake boyfriend, but right now, my stomach is doing flips. It's almost like that feeling you get before going into an exam.

In fact, I'm so nervous that I'm early for my meeting with Jackson. Punctuality has never been one of my best traits, but today, I'm fifteen minutes early and all alone in my thoughts with my coffee and tiramisu cake.

As yesterday had progressed and my hangover had cured, the events of Friday night had replayed in my mind like a movie on repeat. Each memory only added to the embarrassment piling up within me. Out of all people, I just had to get drunk in front of Jackson Carter.

Not to mention the "You want to take off my dress?" remark I had said to him when we were in his car. I'm pretty sure I'd also batted my eyelashes at him and flashed him a sultry look—he probably thought I was trying to seduce him.

At this rate, the word 'mortified' in the dictionary might as well just have a picture of my face next to it.

But that's not all.

On a more serious note, the line between what is real and fake seems to be blurring, and I'm not sure what to make of it. If my memory serves me right, Jackson had called me things like "beautiful" and "talented"—the first time I'd ever heard those words come out of his mouth when it came to me.

Thinking back to the reunion, he also punched my ex and threatened him in front of everyone else.

I'd always remembered Jackson as a calm and collected person, and I rarely heard him swear back in high school. Friday night was the first time I'd ever seen him this mad. The flash of anger I'd witnessed in his eyes when he punched Oliver had seemed so incredibly and undeniably real.

But then again, he had also kissed me and told me not to think too much about it afterward, so maybe it had also just been a part of his fake boyfriend act.

At a little before ten a.m., the bell on the Maple Leaf Cafe's door rings, causing a soft and dainty jingle to echo.

As if on instinct, I turn my head around to see Jackson casually yet purposefully walking inside, exuding an aura of confidence and charisma. Apparently, others inside the cafe agree too, because they're also staring at him—including the woman at the table beside me.

He turns his head to where I'm seated and meets my gaze, his brown eyes softening, and a smile forming on his lips.

For a moment, and in what feels like a scene from a movie, he simply stands at the entrance with his gaze fixed on me. The morning rays of sunlight from outside gently caress his skin and illuminate his dark brown hair, reminding me that yeah, he's good-looking.

Then, the other people staring at him start looking at me instead, and he lets out a tiny chuckle before walking over and seating himself in the chair opposite mine. "Hey."

"Hey," I greet.

"You're early," he remarks.

I roll my eyes. "I would've come later if I knew all those people were going to stare at me as though I'd just stolen their boyfriend."

A smirk instantly crosses his lips. "Don't worry, you're not stealing me from anyone, babe."

"Very funny," I sarcastically say, taking another sip of my coffee. It looks like Jackson is back to his usual joking self.