His Fake Girlfriend.

Chapter 10.

Some of you are getting confused about whether Aiden knows that Laurette is a princess or not. Ofc he does, hence why he makes all those princess jokes to piss her off. The only people who know Lau's true identity are: Jason, Samantha, Aiden and Rosie...so far.(:

Chapter 10.

I stood there, ignoring the damn traitor tears and staring at the pathetic excuse for a man ahead of me. What an earth was wrong with him? One minutes, it came across as he couldn't even stand to be near me at all, and now he was calling me “hot”? Perhaps he was Bipolar, yes, that would explain his sudden change of demeanor on the flight too.

“WHAT?!” shouted three different voice from my behind in union. I didn't even have to look back to see their reaction: already, I could picture their faces, probably more shocked than mine.

Aiden fiddled with his collar, rubbing the back of his neck skeptically, like he was trying to put a jigsaw piece together. His eyes betrayed a sense of truth and possibly confusion as he stared back right into my eyes. I squirmed uncomfortably feeling his gaze bore into mine: I was always shy when it came to locking eyes with people, it made me feel violated and conscious of myself.

“Shit,” he muttered finally drifting his gaze off of me.

“Ain't that right,” whistled Sam. “You have a fiancee Aid. Regardless of how trampy, slutty and conceited she is.”

“Shut up Sam, not now,” Aiden shot back angrily.

I looked over at him, my annoyance reaching its full level. Sam was right! How could he say such things when not even a day ago, he had told me that he was happily engaged and couldn't wait to get married. I felt sorry for the woman. “Don't tell her to shut up!” I huffed. “How can you say such things to other women when already you have someone waiting for you, huh?”

Aiden's head snapped towards my face again, and this time there was no hint of tranquility. In fact, his eyes looked almost bloodshot red and if looks could kill: I should drop dead now.

“Fucking hell,” he interjected. “Get over yourself, I only said you looked hot, nothing major. Jeez, you make it sound like I just offered to have sex with you.”

My cheeks heated at the sound of sex. Twenty-three and a virgin, yes, go on feel free to laugh. I could feel the blushing reaching all parts of my face. The talk of sex always made me feel humiliated, probably because out of all the woman, I was most likely to be the only one who hadn't yet had the pleasure of experiencing it. Not that I was in any rush to give up my innocence any time soon. Oh hell I wasn't. In a strange way, I was actually proud of myself and my upbringing. It's not necessarily that I believed in sex after marriage, but that phrase had a soft spot in my heart. Imagine one day you have kids and they suddenly ask you who your first time was, wouldn't you just feel amazing to point across the room at your husband? Instead of trying desperately to remember who took your virginity and when. In my opinion, its sick.

It seemed like I wasn't the only person pondering in the room, every body appeared to be unusually silent. Until, My Jerk Face decided to break the chain though. What a fricking surprise.

“Wait,” he suddenly laughed. Not the “this-is-so-uncomfortable-so-lets-laugh-and-make-it-less-awkward” laugh, but the actually “haha-you've-gotta-be-kidding-me” laugh. “Are you still a virgin?”