Accidentally on Purpose

Chapter Thirteen

I don't like you. I'm in love with you. I swallowed down the first answer that rang inside my head, and opted for something else that wouldn't cause him shock. "We're partners in this damn project, Jonah. We have to get along somehow. That's literally the point of us being partnered up together. Doesn't mean that I'm gonna dislike you any less, though," I added hastily, before he got any idea.

"Right," he nodded slowly, as if he was trying to understand. And then he dropped his eyes, looking down at his own glass. His thumb was still slightly moving against the glass, and then his pointer finger tapped on the glass twice, his nail making contact and creating a soft clinking sound. "Well, thanks, then. Sorry for being hard on you about it."

I fought the twitching of my lips, pushing down the urge to break into a huge smile because I didn't need to freak out Jonah while we were having this moment. Instead, I just answered casually, "It's fine, whatever. Sorry for being hard on you too, about Monday. I was just having a bad day and I wasn't really impressed that I'd gotten myself in the principal's office, and you were there when I needed to take it out on something. And now you're stuck with me."

"Eh," he said, shrugging. "What's done is done. But sorry about the water thing. And my comment about your bra."

This time, I really did smile, because he finally, finally apologized for the damn thing. "Don't forget what you did to my hair," I reminded, gesturing to my red hair. I couldn't believe that it had almost been two weeks since we first started to talk—all thanks to the holy soda—and now we were here, preparing for our (cough, fake, cough) engagement. Even though the soda did cost me a few good dollars for the hair dye, I could never hate it because it was, well, what had started everything.

Jonah snorted. "I almost forgot you used to be a blonde," he commented, before glowering at me. "You did spill your drink on me first."

"It was an accident!" I cried, hoping it looked convincing.

"Whatever. What's done is done, let' get over it," he repeated, before downing the rest of his drink in one gulp. "Are we going to start doing the project?"

I rolled my eyes. "Okay. Have you found any ideas?"

He pursed his lips, and I found myself staring at them unabashedly. I stopped before he noticed that I was drooling over his lips, though, and focused on his eyes. "What if... we met through a dating site?"

I really did burst out into laughter, and I did laugh for a good five minutes, feeling tears escape my eyes. Jonah glared at me, but the sides of his lips slightly twitched, so I kept on laughing until it subsided slowly. "You're a Hollywood actor, Jonah. You don't need a dating site."

"It's just an idea!" he defended moodily. "I ran out of it."

"It sounds funny, though. Very rom-com-ish. I could see it play out: you've gotten enough of all the Hollywood bullshit, hating the overexposure from the media, cursing your agent for forcing you into fake dates for publicity. You have a hot model fresh in your arm as a fake girlfriend, but you're just sick of it all."

"And then I set up a profile on a dating site, just for the heck of it," he added, which surprised me because I wasn't really being serious about the idea. "Let's just say that the name that I use as an actor isn't my real name, but just a stage name. So I set up that profile, using my r nealame, putting up a picture of myself without the fake tan and the hairspray, which made me look like a completely ordinary guy."

"Because obviously fake tans and hairsprays are magic," I commented. "And then you met me."

"And then I met you," he agreed, his face still scrunched up in concentration, before breaking into a condescending smirk. "You're just a lonely English teacher who desperately needed a date, because you couldn't get one."