Contract Marriage: I Will Never Love You-Chapter 115: You are Weird

Josh

I watch her face as she talks about photography, noticing how her eyes light up, how her hands move with excitement. It’s like watching someone talk about their first love. The passion is so raw and real it makes my chest ache with a strange kind of envy. I’ve never felt that way about anything.

"What about you?" she asks suddenly, popping a spring roll into her mouth. "What’s your story?"

"Me?" I chuckle, reclining comfortably in my chair as the soft creak of the wood echoes lightly. "Nothing too wild. Architecture caught my eye, so I decided to pursue it."

"But you must love it, right?" she insists, her eyes narrowing with curiosity.

I ponder her question, feeling the cool condensation from my water glass seeping into my palms as I roll it back and forth. "Yes," I reply, the word hanging in the air.

Hailey examines me closely, her head tilted slightly to one side, like a curious bird. Her gaze is steady, searching. "Why did you really come here, Josh? The truth," she asks, her voice a blend of curiosity and expectation.

The question hangs between us, heavy with potential. I could brush it off, make another joke, keep things light. But something about the way she’s looking at me.

"I’ve spent my whole life playing it safe," I admit. "Even when I seem spontaneous, it’s calculated. I never take real risks, especially not with people." I meet her eyes. "But then I saw you running down that highway, so determined to chase your dream, and something just... clicked. I wanted to be part of that energy, that courage."

"So I’m just... an energy?" she asks, almost looking sad.

"No," I say quietly. "You made me feel alive. Curious."

Hailey remains silent at first, her gaze fixed intently on me, her lips slightly parted as though she’s been interrupted mid-breath. Her eyes hold a mixture of curiosity and contemplation.

Eventually, she shifts her focus down to her plate, gently nudging a solitary grain of rice with the tip of her fork, almost as if it holds the answers she seeks.

"You know," she murmurs softly, her voice barely above a whisper, "you are quite weird."

I tilt my head playfully, a teasing glint in my eyes. "The good kind of weird or the restraining order kind of weird?" I inquire, a coy smile playing on my lips.

Hailey’s laughter spills out unexpectedly, a melodic sound that sends a flutter through my chest, like the soft flutter of butterfly wings. "I’m still deciding," she responds, her eyes twinkling with amusement as they meet mine.

"Fair enough." I push my empty plate away, leaning back in my chair. "For what it’s worth, I know how crazy this all seems. Following you here, crashing your shoot... it’s not exactly normal behavior."

"No, it’s not," she agrees, but there’s no bite in her words. "Most people would call it stalking."

"Most people would be right," I admit. "But I swear I didn’t come here to complicate things for you. I just..." I trail off, not entirely sure how to explain the impulse that drove me onto that plane.

Hailey watches me, her expression softening slightly. "You just what?"

"I just wanted to see you again."

"You are not getting laid tonight." Her voice is barely audible.

I chuckle at that.

"That’s...fair," I say. "But for the record, that’s not why I came."

She raises a skeptical eyebrow.

"I mean it," I continue. "You think I flew across the country, crashed a fashion shoot, and agreed to be bossed around on camera just for a hookup?"

Hailey tilts her head, folding her arms. "Honestly? I have no idea."

"That’s part of the charm," I say with a smirk.

She tries to fight a smile and fails. "Should we tell Sarah and my brother that you are here? He will get even angrier if he finds out on his own."

I groan, rubbing the back of my neck. "Yeah...he might kill me this time. He was angry when I showed up as Sarah’s childhood friend."

Hailey snorts. "On second thought, we shouldn’t tell them yet."

I grin despite the impending doom. "I’ve survived worse."

She arches a brow. "Like what?"

"High school theater," I say solemnly. "Once wore tights. On stage. In front of my crush. Nothing can hurt me now."

That earns a proper laugh from her, light, genuine, and short enough to make me wish I could replay it.

"Alright," she says, brushing a hair behind her ear. "We keep it a secret for now."

"Secret mission it is," I say, tapping the side of my nose like some cartoon spy.

Hailey rolls her eyes, but her smile lingers. She pushes back her chair and stands, grabbing the empty takeout containers.

"Come on, help me clean up. If you’re staying, you’re pitching in."

"Yes, ma’am." I follow her to the sink, taking the containers she hands me.

After we’ve cleared the table and the leftovers are tucked in the fridge, Hailey wipes her hands on a dish towel and leans back against the counter. She then yawns, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. "Okay. I’m dead. Tomorrow’s going to be insane."

"Right. The solo shoot with the moody lighting, right?" I inquire.

Her eyebrows rise. "You actually listened?"

"Hey, I take my fake modeling job very seriously."

She smirks, then turns toward the hallway. "Goodnight, Josh."

"Night, Hailey."

She disappears into her room. And I just stand there for a moment, in the stillness of her kitchen, wondering how the hell I’m supposed to sleep when all I can think about is being close to her.

I collapse onto the bed, arms splayed, eyes locked on the ceiling. I came here to be near her. Not for anything physical, not really. Just... presence. Her presence. The way she makes everything feel a little more vibrant and a little less scripted.

But now that I’m here, the nearness is maddening.

I reach for the notebook in my bag and start to sketch.