Fake It

"Please. It's one ball."
One ball too many.

Being slightly famous with an even more famous family is kind of a hard ship when you don't want anything to do with them. For Layne Avery, this ball was the very last thing she ever wanted to go to, but when a very unexpected visitor comes and asks her for a favor, she says yes. Layne isn't fit for the royal life, or maybe she is. You tell me, but you first you have to read Fake It.


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8. Eight

"You can't just go around kissing people!"
"I now that! I said I was sorry!"

We are arguing. Like real arguing. With yelling and everything. I am livid. And this was all because of one annoying thing: Zain fucking kissed me. Granted, it was an accident, but it doesn't excuse anything. We're standing in the foyer, of all places to argue, and shouting at each other. It's obvious to realize that Hana and Edward are trying to calm us down, but I'm really annoyed with the fact he just kissed me. Like it was okay. Which it isn't. Not at all. I'm completely aware how obnoxious I sound. Trust me; I do. And yet, here I am yelling at my fiancé about a kiss that's probably going to happen a bunch more times.

"It was only a kiss! Why are you overreacting?!" He asks.

"Probably, because I didn't want you to kiss me! I'm sorry, if I have certain things that I'm not comfortable with." I yell as I walk off. As I go, I try to pull my hair into a ponytail. My heels hit the carpet with loud thumps and Hana hurries after me.

"Miss, Miss Layne! Please slow down!" She calls out after me.

I ignore her, pulling on my sleeve. After a while of walking, I stop and turn to let Hana catch up with me. She slows down in front of me, heaving for air. With my hands on my hips, I wait for her to catch her breath.

"Miss Layne there is no need to speed-walk through the castle. It makes it harder for me to walk with you."

"I didn't ask you to." I inform her. She just sighs. I turn around to go, but she calls out after me again.

"Miss Layne, if I may, can I ask you something."
"What?"

"Is the reason that you're so angry with His Highness is because, you didn't actually hate the kiss as much as you say you do" She asks.

I spin around quickly, spiting out, "That is absurd! It highly offensive of you to insinuate that Iliked being kissed without my consent."

She tenses up, and pink floods her face at my yelling. Her hands fidget as she tries to find something to say to me. I really do wish I could take that back. I didn't mean for her to feel bad at all. My hands find hers.

"I am so, so sorry, Hana. I did not mean to yell at you." I apologize.

She shakes her head with a smile as she says, "No, it was wrong of me to ask that."
"It's fine, honest. I shouldn't have yelled, period. It has absolutely nothing to do with you." I reassure her.

"Oh." She breathes a sigh of relief.

--

I'm trying to make up my bed. No shit. I'm, for real, trying to make my bed the way the maids do it, because there is no real need for them to do something that I'm completely able to do. I love them, Jesus I do, but if they ask to change my bedding one more time, I'm going to have to lock my door from the inside.

I toss my pillow on my bed with a huff. I cross my arms and try to concentrate on how to fold the duvet. I could go with the tri-fold. Or maybe the flap fold. Or just the regular-

A knock rudely interrupts my thoughts. The residents in this castle have the most horrible timing. I leave my horridly made bed and race to open the door. I swing the door open with a smile on face...until I see who it is.

"Lay-" Zain says.

I close the door.

If he came here to gain my forgiveness, he has another thing coming.

"Layne, please open the door. I brought cake."

I cross my arms over my chest and sigh. He's such a dumbbell.

"What kind?"

"Red velvet." He murmurs.

I groan as I open my door. He smiles at me, with his teeth showing and everything. I smile back, taking the plate out of his hand and closing my door back.

"Layne!"

"Thank you for the cake!" I shout as I walk back over to my bed.

"Layne, please." Zain utters.

I trudge my feet as I make my way to the door, again. I rest my forehead against the old wood. It has the old book smell to it that just seems to calm the nerves. With my hands stuffed into my jean pockets, I try to figure out what to do.

"Do you realize that you're completely in the wrong?" I ask him.

"Yes, Layne, I do."

I open my door and shoot Zain a look that I can only hope that conveys how annoyed with him I am. He gives me a sheepish grin and holds out a fork for me. Open my door farther to give him space to walk in. And he does, happily.

He finds residence in my favourite chair and places his plate on the end table. He looks up at me expectantly as if he silently asking me to sit down next to him. I'm reluctant at first, but sit down anyway. We're silent for a while. I mean, what do we even say.

Am I supposed to talk first? No, I'm not. I didn't just walk into someone else's room. I'm not just gonna initiate-

"Hana said you like red velvet." Zain whispers.

"She did?"

I look up at him to find his head down.

"Yeah," he says, his eyes never leaving his plate, "she also said that you loved butter cream icing over whipped cream because, for some reason, it hurts your teeth."

"Did she also make this cake?" I ask him.

Not that I'd care if he did. I mean, come on! This is still the guy I'm forced to marry. I should at least know if he could cook.

"No." He says simply, stuffing another piece of cake into his mouth.

I shift in my seat a bit. If he did bake it, that means he really was trying to make things up to me. It also means I was being a bitch, yet again. I smile despite myself. That is so sweet.

"D-did you?" I stutter.

"Did I what?" He asks, still not meeting my eyes.

"Zain." I groan. He knows exactly what I mean.

"Yeah."

I immediately look back down at my cake. I clench my teeth as I feel my cheeks burn red. Of course he made this fucking cake. He's a sweet heart. It's all he know how to do.

"Thank you." I tell him softly.

"Do you forgive me now?" He murmurs.

I look back up at him only to find him look back at me. I uncross my legs, only to recross them in the opposite direction.

"Sure, but it wasn't a real kiss." I say with a shrug.

His eyebrows knit together. He smirks despite the obvious annoyance presented on his face.
"I'll have you know, that many ladies have loved my kisses."

"They do, don't they." I scoff at him.

"Yes, they do." He repeats siting back in his seat.

I smile at him as I say, "It still wasn't a kiss."

"Okay, so what is a kiss to you?"

I shake my head, saying "You have to have the Drum Roll Effect."

"The Drum Roll?"

I nod, "Yeah, the moment that leads up to the kiss. The sensation you get when you're about to kiss someone."

"That's bullshit."

"It is not." I tell him.

He just rolls his eyes at me. I sigh, standing up and straighten out my jean leg. I place my hand on the arm of his chair, towering over him. I smile as he gulps. I place my free hand on the back of the chair to steady myself. I close my eyes, leaning towards his face. I suppress a giggle from the feeling of his nose rubbing against mine. Little whiffs of air brush past my cheek. I open my eyes. Zain's eyes are closed, and he looks so pliant. I laugh as I lean away from him. His eyes fly open, his cheeks turning bright pink.

"See? The Drum Roll Effect." I tell him.

He only nods.
--

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