public space
1217 Words
Bailey POV
“ What do you think you are doing?” I eventually ask, unable to stop myself.
Orion turns to look at me and gives me a grin that has my heart drumming so loud I'm afraid he might hear it.
“ Helping, of course.” He replies as if that's the most normal thing to do.
I can't help but shake my head helplessly.
“ You don't need to do that, you know.” I try talking him out of it. It's a small gesture, maybe something to pass time for him but to me? Let's just say it warms my heart.
After being with Nolan for years, I can attest that this isn't something he would do.
“ I know that but still, I am doing it because I want to.” Orion answers.
“ You don't want free labour?” He adds and I can't help but smile.
“ As long as you don't expect anything in return, I'm happy to have an extra hand.” I reply.
My words have Orion pausing.
“ Is that what scares you? Giving something in return?” He asks, walking to me.
Our gazes meet and lock and while my body screams at me to retreat, I stay rooted in place.
I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry. “That’s not what I meant,” I say, though my voice betrays me.
Orion keeps coming closer, paint still streaked on his hand, eyes locked on mine with that usual mischief.
The sudden intensity in his eyes leaves me a little off-balance. He stops only when there’s barely a breath of space between us.
“Then what did you mean?” he asks, his voice low and teasing.
“I—” The word dies in my throat because I honestly don’t know what to say. My pulse hammers in my ears, and the scent of fresh paint mixes with the faint hint of his cologne.
It's sharp and even…warm.
Orion is so close now that I can see a tiny scar at the corner of his lip. My eyes linger there longer than they should, tracing the curve of his mouth. God, why does he have to look like that? Like those lips could taste heavenly?
“Bailey,” he murmurs, his breath becoming heavy.
The sound of my name on his lips almost feels like a warning, though I am not sure who it’s meant for.
I can’t tear my eyes away from his lips. My body betrays me, leaning ever so slightly closer. The air between us feels electric, charged.
Without realizing it, I lick my lips — and his gaze drops instantly, darkening.
Time seems to stretch as my breath catches. My heart is no longer beating normally; it’s sprinting, doing a race against what I don't know.
And then Orion he leans in.
My eyes flutter shut as if they have a mind of their own.
My fingers curl at my sides, every nerve in my body braces for what is about to come.
But it never comes.
Instead, I hear a soft chuckle.
When I open my eyes, Orion is grinning.
He wears that infuriating, self-satisfied grin that makes me want to smack him and kiss him all at once.
“You—” I start, words catching in my throat.
He tilts his head. “Me?”
Heat floods my cheeks. “You’re impossible.”
“Am I?” His tone is pure amusement.
I shove his chest lightly, trying to hide my embarrassment. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
He smirks. “What can I say? It’s cute watching you get all flustered.”
“I wasn’t flustered!” I protest, even though my voice comes out a little too high-pitched to be convincing.
“Sure you weren’t,” he says, that smirk never faltering. “You just closed your eyes for… no reason?”
I cross my arms, glaring at him. “Maybe there was dust in my eyes.”
He chuckles, not bothering to hide this amusement.
“Of course. The invisible bakery dust.”
I grab a rag and throw it at him, but he catches it easily, still smiling. “You’re insufferable.”
“And yet, here you are, letting me help,” he says, stepping around me to hang the rag back. “That must mean something, right.”
“It means I was too tired to argue,” I mutter, but even I can hear the softness creeping into my tone.
He turns back to me, expression shifting just slightly.
“ How about I make it up to you?” He proposes and I raise my brows.
“How about dinner,” he says simply, like he didn’t just throw my entire nervous system off balance. “Tomorrow night.”
“Orion…”
“Before you say no,” he interrupts, “it’s not what you think. My parents invited us for dinner next weekend.”
My jaw drops. “What?”
He nods, utterly calm. “They want to meet you. The ‘girlfriend.’”
I rub my temples. “Just what I needed.”
“Relax. Tomorrow’s dinner is just a strategy session,” he says with a grin. “We need to make sure our stories match – how we met, what you like, why you put up with me.”
“I still don’t like this,” I mutter.
“You’ll like it, I promise.” He says, brushing past me toward the door. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“Orion, I didn’t say yes,” I call after him.
He stops at the door, looking back at me with that same confident smirk. “You didn’t have to. I already heard it.”
And then he’s gone, leaving me standing there in the middle of my half-painted bakery — cheeks burning, heart racing, and absolutely no clue how I’m supposed to face him at dinner tomorrow.
I look around at the mess I still have to clean up and sigh.
Fake dating, I remind myself. It’s all fake.
But the way my pulse still skips at the thought of his smile?
Yeah. That part doesn’t feel fake at all.
After closing up, I walk down the alleyway that leads to the bus stop.
I am immersed in my thoughts that I don't hear footsteps until the biggest nightmare of my life stands before me.
“ Nolan?” I call, his face enough to spike my anger.
“ What the hell are you doing here?” I ask then look around. A crazy Idea comes into my mind.
“ Wait…are you stalking me?”
I glare at him. I don't miss the flicker of unease that passes in his eyes.
“ What? That's bullshit. Why would I stalk you?” He fires back but I'd be stupid not to see he is lying in my eyes.
I fold my hands on my chest.
“ Oh yeah? Then explain what you are doing here at this hour? This is no residential place.”
If he wants to play the fool, he should come up with a convincing excuse.
“ This is a public space. Do I need your permission to walk through the streets?”
- Writer
