#mareed

Out of respect, and maybe a tiny bit of affection for Reed, Marcie decides not to drink at the reception.

The ginger ale tickles the back of her throat, and she wishes it was a whiskey sour.

“Having fun?” Reed asks, sliding into the seat next to her. His arm slips around her bare shoulders, scarred fingertips tracing light patterns over her freckled bicep.

She hates to admit it but he’s a fantastic fake boyfriend.

“I am, actually,” she replies, turning to him to place a kiss on his cheek as his mother walks by. Reed grins at her, reaching for his own glass of soda.

“I’m glad,” he says, “I’m also glad you agreed to come here with me,” he adds, lowering his voice, “I know you’re only doing it for the TikTok cloud you’ll get from me but-”

“Reed,” she interrupts, “The clout is great, but I agreed to come here with you because you’re my friend and I care about you.”

His eyes meet hers, wide and blue, and Marcie realizes what she’s just confessed. Reed’s smile broadens, and he pulls her a bit closer, mischief dancing in his eyes.

“So you do care about me,” he says slyly, waggling his eyebrows, “Why Bouchard I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Don’t get used to it,” she grumbles, rolling her eyes while she ignores the butterflies in her stomach, fluttering under his teasing gaze.

He laughs at her, turning to the dance floor.

“C’mon, this is a party after all,” he says lightly, “Let’s go dance.”

Reed smiles as he stands, extending his hand. She returns the smile, placing her hand in his, not because she’s his fake girlfriend, but because she finds she does want to dance with him.

His hand is warm as he leads her to the floor, spinning her out with a laugh as the song ends, a familiar throwback starting up.

Marcie finds herself laughing and dancing in a large circle of Reed’s family and high school friends, jumping and singing along, throwing her head back in delight. Across the circle Reed is bouncing with his friends, but his eyes find hers and he grins at her.

“Y’all make such a cute couple,” one of the girls says drunkenly, as Marcie bends to hear her better, “I’ve like, not seen Reed so happy with a partner like, ever!”

Marcie doesn’t have to force a smile, looking back at Reed across the circle, fist pumping with his friends.

“He makes me happy,” Marcie replies, and she feels her own words deeply in her bones.

Her fake boyfriend bumps shoulders with one of his friends, bouncing along as he glances over at her. Reed grins, shooting a pair of finger guns at her as the song ends, transitioning to a slow, familiar love song.

“This one’s for our newlyweds and all the happy couples,” the DJ says over the mic.

Marcie’s heart skips a beat as Reed makes his way over to her, his cheeks flushed.

“Uh, refreshment time?” he asks, gesturing to their table.

“I thought we’d dance one more,” she replies quickly, taking his hand in hers, leading him back onto the dance floor. She takes his other hand, placing it on her waist, feeling the heat of his palm through her dress.

“Oh,” Reed replies intelligently, meeting her gaze with guarded eyes. Marcie smiles at him, putting one hand on his shoulder, inching closer to his neck to toy with his curls.

His cheeks flush a deeper pink, but his gaze doesn’t shy away from hers.

“You don’t have to do this,” Reed says, his hand shifting and flexing on the small of her back. “I think everyone believes us.”

“I have been an exceptional girlfriend for the past week,” Marcie agrees, “And doesn’t a girlfriend get a slow dance?”

She watches his Adam’s apple bob, her gaze resting on his mouth briefly as her gaze travels up to meet his.

“I mean, you’re not-” he says as she rests her head on his shoulder.

“I am right now,” she says softly, still playing with his curls with one hand.

Reed doesn’t say anything to that, and she bites her lip as they sway together. His hand doesn’t stray from the small of her back, the other clasped in her hand.

The song ends, breaking the spell, and Marcie pulls back slowly from him.

“You’re not a bad dancer,” she says with a smile, as the next song starts up. “I might even be convinced to dance another with you.”

Reed’s expression is unreadable, but she keeps her gaze steady, pulling away from him slowly. Almost involuntarily, he follows her.

“I don’t think I’d need a particularly strong argument,” he says, suddenly close to her, his mouth near her ear, and Marcie’s heart flutters at the smile he’s giving her.

“Probably not,” she fires back, a smirk on her lips as she lifts a hand to fiddle with her jewelry, trying not to focus on how breathless she sounds.

Reed’s hand touches the small of her back lightly as they leave the dance floor before finding her own hand, tangling their fingers together familiarly as they have been all week. They pass their table and the bar, making for the exit of the ballroom.

“Fresh air?” she asks, glancing at him as they leave the ballroom, headed through the empty hallways of the hotel.

“Something like that,” Reed agrees, and Marcie swallows, pulling on his hand. He pauses and turns, and with a quick step she’s in front of him, her hand in his and the other cupping his face.