Recap: Ryan ended up to be my pretend boyfriend!!

This was a nightmare!
A literal nightmare. Why?

We were bidding my parents goodbye—Ryan and me. After a hearty dinner, they were finally leaving. Dad closed the passenger door for Mom, then turned and gave Ryan a stern gaze.

"Don't forget the date. Aisha, make sure he remembers. Okay, we'll call you." Dad said, giving me a brief hug before hopping into the car.

This was why!

I thought it'd be a one-time thing. But no, Dad invited Ryan to my cousin's wedding. A wedding! Not just on the day of, but probably for the pre-wedding events too. I’m guessing it'll be a soft launch of Ryan to our relatives. To show off his 'son-in-law'

God! Now what?

"Bye Piku!" Mom waved, deliberately yelling out my nickname as they drove off, clearly trying to pull my nerves. But I waved back, grinning way too much.
I bet it'll tick her off. Ha!

The minute they turned the corner, I collapsed, slapping my forehead in frustration, my gaze boring holes into the ground. Just in case the ground decided to open up and swallow me.

"Ah! Nice," Ryan cheered, and I could sense the smile as he said so.
It felt like a slap.

This jerk!

My head whipped up in his direction to shoot him a glare. It happened so fast I nearly got whiplash. Ryan blinked, glancing behind him, then shrugged. He f*cking shrugged!

That was it.

"Nice?" I straightened, storming toward him while furiously pulling at the sleeves of my kurti.
"This is nice?"

"Whoa! Calm down!" He held his hands up like I had just pulled out a weapon, taking a few cautious steps back. With a click of his tongue, he started twisting his lips.

"Don't you dare scoff." I growled through clenched jaws, pointing my fingers at him.

Ryan looked at my pointed finger, then back at my face with a fake cough, turning aside.

Good! At least he wasn’t smirking.

"Okay, okay. Breathe in, breathe out," he suggested, inching closer. I shot him another death glare, and he stopped dead in his tracks.

"Don't be mad at me."

"It was supposed to be a simple dinner." I groaned, throwing my hands up in despair.

"But now...now it's a disaster! He invited you to a wedding! A wedding! This isn't just yet another meeting, it's... a public announcement!" I slumped over, letting out a long, defeated sigh.

"There, there. Don't worry, I'm here."

"Exactly. You're here, and that's why it got worse!"

Ryan stepped back, eyes wide and mouth agape. He took a minute to process my words.

"Wow! The audacity. To call me a problem when I literally helped you." He bellowed, raising his eyebrows with exaggerated gestures.

"Helped?" I scoffed. "With your charm? With that expensive tuxedo? Oh yeah, that really helped in impressing my parents. Great job!"

"It's not my fault they were impressed," he retorted, with a smirk already forming again.
"I was just doing my part, and here we are, playing the blame game."

"Awe! Did you expect a cake? An Oscar for Best Performance?" I shot back, gritting my teeth.

"At least a 'thank you' would've been nice," Ryan quipped, the smirk now fully visible. "But no! You're nitpicking every. little. thing—my suit, my shoes, my existence. What's next? My hair? My nails?"

"You showed up in a tuxedo," I snapped, inching closer to his face, ready to throw a punch.

"I’m the CEO. What did you expect, sweatpants and a t-shirt?"

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Damn it, he had a point.
My mind reluctantly agreed with him, and I hated every second of it.

"No." I slumped my shoulders, muttering slowly.
"That would've been worse. But still... at least my dad would reject you. What are we supposed to do now? How do we fix this?" I scowled, looking away.

Ryan grinned.
What’s worse than seeing him smirk? That stupid grin which spread across his face like this wasn’t a big deal.

"First, let's get ice cream. We'll think about it on the way."

Wha—

Did I heard him right?

Ice cream? Really?
He was suggesting ice cream while my life was unravelling?

I opened my mouth to protest, but the mere thought of ice cream made my mouth water.

Oh Crap! I was craving ice cream. And... Well, it wouldn’t hurt.

"Fine," I muttered, reluctantly nodding. Ryan, of course, took the lead like he was guiding me to an important business meeting. I trailed behind, still fuming though.

As we headed toward the small group gathered around the parking lot, it felt like they were witnessing some kind of magic show.

Don’t they have anything better to do at eleven p.m.?

I was about to say something snarky when a loud car alarm blared. The group scattered in all directions, leaving one thing exposed: The Car.

A matte Black Porsche.

My jaw dropped, eyes stretched so wide I feared my eyeballs might pop out of their sockets.
Of course. Of course, he would drive something like that.

Ryan casually strolled over to it like this was the most normal thing in the world. He gave me a sidelong glance, reading my expression before he reached for the door handle.

"Are you coming, or should I pick you up something on the way?" he teased, holding the door open for me.

I blinked, trying to pull myself back to reality. My brain was still processing the fact that I was about to get into a Porsche—Ryan's Porsche—and head off to get ice cream.
Like a little rendezvous.
Was I dreaming?

"Come on. What happened?" Ryan’s voice snapped me back to reality, and I realised—this wasn’t a dream, and definitely not a rendezvous.

"Coming," I mumbled, stepping forward and sliding into the passenger seat. The moment I sat down, the soft leather felt like the smoothest thing I’d ever put my butt on—like sinking into a cloud of rich, expensive cotton candy.

Ryan slid into the driver’s seat, smirking as he started the engine. The low purr of the car sent a thrill through me, like we were suddenly characters in a high-end movie. My heartbeat quickened, my hands fidgeting with the seatbelt. Before I could stop it, a grin stretched across my face, the kind you get when you're trying—and failing—to contain excitement.

As we pulled away, I stared out the window, the city lights twinkling like stars as the dark clouds slowly swallowed the skyline. The window rolled down, and the cold breeze brushed my face, lightly pricking my cheeks— a reminder that winter was on its way. My wavy hair danced freely in the wind, but I ignored it.

My mind wandered off, enjoying the ride. Forgetting about my situation that had turned into an absolute absurdity.
___

"So? Any idea?"

I side-eyed him, scooping a bite out of my chocolate chip icecream, while anxiety was eating up my brain.

Ryan, on the other hand, was as composed as ever. He scooped a bite of his vanilla flavoured ice cream, his brow furrowing as he shook his head to some silent beat.

He had parked his car by the seaside, the waves crashing softly in the distance was somewhat distracting me from the recurring thoughts.

He leaned against the hood while I sat on top of it.

Yeah, on the Porsche.
Can't believe it, right?

"We should head home." Ryan began, stealing my attention from the ice cream. 
"It's late, and I need to wake up early. Plus, I have to work out—"

"Tsk. I'm talking about the fake boyfriend thing." I gritted out.

Seriously? This guy never takes anything seriously, does he?

Ryan's mouth formed an 'O' as if he had completely forgotten about it.

"Don't worry, we'll meet my parents next week, and then we'll surely make it to the wedding on time," he blabbered it out like it was the most simplest plan in the world.

My jaw practically hit the floor.

Wow! I mean WOW!
Could he be any more nonchalant about this whole mess?
What's wrong with him?
Did he fall and hit his head as a baby?

"It's not that simple, Ryan. We're talking about relationships here," I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite my rising frustration.

"A fake one," he cut in, still calmly eating his ice cream as if we were discussing weekend plans. Ugh!

"It's real for my parents. I don't know... maybe we should just stop this whole thing. I could tell them we broke up or something. Make it seem like things just didn’t work out."

I can't let Ryan have the upper hand in this game. He's always so sure of himself, always in control.

It'll only take him a minute to manipulate things to his own liking. Cause, In the end, he's only selfish—A creation of capitalist society, where he learned to not think about anybody.
On top of that, he popped out as the executive head out of nowhere.
It's so mysterious.

I stiffened as the realisation dawned upon me.

I... I don't know him at all.

Shit!

"And make it even worse? That'll only add to the mess. It certainly won't help you in future," Ryan said, still focused on his damn ice cream.

"What are you even suggesting? That we keep this up?" 
I squinted at him, trying to get any fatal details out of him.

Ryan finished his ice cream, tossed the spoon like a basketball, and, of course, it went straight into the dumpster. Show-off.

Before I could roll my eyes, he reached down and grabbed by my ankle, gently sliding me off the car bonnet. My breath hitched as I yelped, my hands flying to his chest—sorry, stone. A literal rock! Is he Hercules?

Before I could fully process how close we were, his hand came up, and he wiped a bit of ice cream from my lower lip.

Wh-at...

"I'm just helping you," he whispered huskily, his voice soft yet firm. 
"We're in this together, and I promise I won't back down... as long as you won't."

I pulled back slightly, just enough to create some space between us. My heart was racing, and my brain was screaming at me to think logically.

But my eyes travelled to his unavoidable tempting Adam's apple instead. Oh God! Why?

He had undone the first two buttons, revealing a bit of his toned skin. At this point, I was getting suspicious that everything he does— he does it deliberately. Or I'm going crazy.

I find my hands reaching towards him slowly twirling my fingers around the collar of his shirt, but it didn’t faze him a bit.

"And what do you gain from this?" 
I tugged at the collar, jerking him forward. I smirked at his surprised face.

If he likes to be mysterious, I could play the mysterious card too.

"My gain? You wouldn’t want to know," he tried to tease me. Most probably to dismiss the swift change of subject: me to him.

Too bad I knew the trick.

"Trust me, I would very much like to know," I shot back, narrowing my eyes at him.

Oh, two could play this game.

He sighed, glancing down. 
"My parents... they want me to settle down. Quickly. For..the future. They're breathing down my neck, and honestly, I think marriage will only restrict me, tie me down."

"So you're going to pretend to be in a relationship?" 
My voice cracked a little at the end.

Shoot! Why can't I talk smoothly like him?

"Yeah..." He rubbed the back of his neck and added sheepishly. "I need to focus on my career."

His eyes finally lifted to meet mine, and I don’t know what it was—the tiny crease on his forehead or the twinkle in his eyes—but something about the way he said it made me want to roll my eyes and trust him all at once.

If that’s even possible.

"This fake relationship will benefit both of us. And you can back off anytime you want," Ryan said, his tone dropping to this weirdly serious level that it caught me completely off guard.

I blinked, suddenly very aware of how close we were. I cleared my throat and hurriedly jumped off the car bonnet.

"So, do we have a deal?" 
He asked, turning to face me.

I took a quick breath and shot him a look.

"Deal." 
My voice didn’t quiver, I didn’t stutter, instead I was confident. Confident enough to stare right into his emotionless eyes.

I'll crack his mysterious mask and reveal his true face. That's a bet.

******

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