London Falling by T. A. Foster Read Free Book Online Page B

of the show when the bachelors usually reveal something private and revealing about themselves. And this sudden revelation of true deep dark secrets is supposed to bring the couple closer together. That didn’t happen with us.
     
    Hmm. I nervously read the last line. I didn’t share much with Beau on the rooftop, but talking to him about Candace and Pearce did make me feel a little closer to him. Maybe I was only divulging the troubles in my roommates’ lives, but it felt like opening the door to something. Like I could tell him more—tell him about my parents or about the problems with the play, or just talk about anything and he would listen. I reread the words and wondered if he was trying to protect Candace’s privacy or if the exchange just didn’t have the same effect on him.
     
    Next up, we walked over to Pottery Paints. To do what? You guessed it: paint some pottery. I made an awesome championship plate. Pics to be posted soon. I discovered my date isn’t a sports fan. I know there are a lot of girls out there who don’t like sports, so guys, this can happen to anyone. Once I knew that, it was hard to come up with other things to talk about. Little bonding commenced over painting.
     
    After the first date re-creation, I can say with confidence that after date one, we are sticking to our hypothesis: the show is a complete fake. Until next week’s dating report—B.A.
     
    What? I didn’t know what I expected him to write, but reading those words made the whole date seem like a terrible evening. It wasn’t terrible. I liked the rooftop, and his funny plate drawing, and he left out the part where I rode behind him on the motorcycle with my hands planted on his firm chest. Ok, maybe he didn’t need to add that part.
     
    My phone buzzed.
     
    Have you read it yet?
     
    I wanted to be cool and casual like Beau. Technically, there wasn’t anything wrong with what he had written. It was all true. Why was I even debating the merits of his blog? I should be relieved I had found a partner who was as committed to the project as I was. We would certainly win over Professor Garcia with our dating accounts. That was all I needed—an A for graduation.
     
    He eagerly texted me again.
     
    I nailed the theory for this week. What do you think? Should I change it?
     
    He did make sure to bring in the theory we were focused on debunking. It didn’t make sense to argue with him or make a big deal out of nothing.
     
    It’s great. Loading my post now.
     
    This whole dating scenario was fake, but the feelings bouncing around in my chest felt real. The opposite of what I wanted.
     
    ***
     
    Date Two: Muscles and Margaritas
     
    Dressing for this non-date was more complicated than last time. We were trying to combine two dates since I had to take some time for extra rehearsals for Spoiled Hearts . Beau seemed easygoing about the schedule and had come up with an athletic, night out mix-up. I was already doubting my physical abilities. It was hard to deny that the nearness of Beau seemed to throw off all of my training and innate talents.
     
    I waited for him outside of Fetzer Gym. In a matter of seconds, I heard the roar of his bike. He pulled up to the front and threw down the kickstand.
     
    “Ready to climb a wall?” He looked eager and energized.
     
    “I guess so. I’ve never climbed before.”
     
    “Piece of cake. You’ll do great.” He locked his helmet to the side of the bike.
     
    I followed him into the gym, scanning my student ID as we passed by the counter. The gym’s policy required all students to pass a Belay Test before climbing the wall. I had never taken a single Belay prep session, but Beau had a way around the obstacle. One of his friends worked at the gym and said I could climb.
     
    Last week, Victoria had taken Chris and Ed on a two-on-one repelling date. Each one of the bachelors, in his own way, had helped her face her darkest fears of heights, unidentified spiders, and helmet hair.