“Well stop.” I bite into my sandwich. “Thanks for the food, but if you’re going to keep distracting me you can go. I have homework to do.”
He clucks his tongue. “That’s no way to talk to your boyfriend.”
“Fake boyfriend,” I remind him.
“Speaking of—” he sits up and grabs one of my many pillow, glaring at the ruffles “—have you decided what you want in exchange?”
I look away from him at my laptop screen. “I haven’t decided yet.”
I’ve thought of one thing, but voicing it scares me.
Bennett seems to sense this. “What is it, Grace?” He asks. “What do you want?”
My eyes slowly fall back to him. “It’s stupid.”
“Nothing’s stupid,” he argues. “Tell me.”
“This really is stupid,” I argue.
He levels me with a look. “Spit it out, Princess.”
Princess. Again it sounds like an insult. “I want two things.”
He raises a brow. “And they are?”
“I want you to let me shop for you—I can only handle seeing you in so many t-shirts and jeans. You need some variety.”
He chuckles. “Okay, and the second thing?”
“The main thing,” I emphasize, “is that I want … I want you to teach me to be bad.”
His eyes widen in surprise. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. I just …” I look away and take a breath before looking back at him. In a softer tone, I say, “I’ve always done the right thing. Never drinking too much or staying out past curfew. Like you said, I’m the good girl, but is that really me? I don’t know, because I’ve never given myself the chance to be something else. Help me.”
He stares at me for a moment. “But won’t that be counter intuitive to the whole fake boyfriend and girlfriend thing? I mean, if you start acting bad, then …” He trails off and shrugs.
“Bennett,” I nearly beg. “I need this. We’ll be careful, and I’ll still look like the perfect little girlfriend in front of the media. Okay?”
He sighs and scrubs his hands down his face. “Okay. Don’t make me regret this.”
“Never,” I say, grinning from ear to ear now that he agreed.
He stands up. “We might as well start lessons now.”
“I have homework.” I point at my computer screen.
“I thought you wanted to be bad?” he reminds me. “A bad girl would leave it.”
I make a face. This is going to be harder than I thought.
“Change into something a little less … covered up.” He points to my shirt.
“So, in other words, I better borrow something of Elle’s?”
“Precisely.” He grins. “You catch on fast.”
“Where exactly are we going?”