"I think we need to amend the contract," Beau drums his long fingers on my kitchen table. He'd fallen asleep on my couch the night before after drinking the rest of the beer and I didn't have it in me to wake him. To be more specific, I didn't have it in me to argue with him when I had to work early this morning. Plus, we have an afternoon full of plans ahead of us - the contract states that if I'm going to play Beau's girlfriend, I have to look the part, too. So we're going shopping, I groan internally, thinking of the list of stores Fiona OK'd for us.

"I don't think that's how contracts work once they've been signed," I mutter, grabbing our cereal bowls and bringing them to the sink. Cereal for lunch, I chuckle. Not very rockstar of him.

Beau shrugs. "It'll be official for you and me, that's what's important." I turn on the warm water and drip some dish soap into our bowls, considering his words.

"Okay," I venture curiously.

Beau stands behind me, watching as I wash our silverware first. "It's just one rule," He mumbles quietly. I switch the faucet off and turn to face him, our bodies so close they're almost touching. I tilt my head back to see his face behind his dark bangs, waiting to hear his new stipulation. "This is business, purely business. No feelings involved - ever."

I bite my lip, waiting for more. He only stares down at me, green eyes serious. "Is that it?" I laugh to myself, wondering what brought this on. I thought our mutual dislike for each other was evident to everyone involved.

Beau's face turns sour and his voice becomes gruff, "Yes, that's it."

"I thought that much was pretty clear," I shrug, returning to washing our bowls. "And also extremely unlikely, anyways."

I feel Beau's breath on the back of my neck. "Unlikely?" Without turning, I know his head is cocked to the side in confusion. Beau seems unable to grasp that someone may not be interested in him romantically, no matter how clear I try to make it.

"Look," I sigh, turning to face him again. "You have my word, I won't fall for you. And you definitely won't fall for me, so we're good, okay?"

Beau's eyes intently search my face for a few seconds before he finally raises his hand, pinky finger sticking straight out. "A pinky swear is as good as a signature, right?"

I smile at his half smirk, enjoying a moment without our normal hostility. I wrap my pinky around his confidently, "Done."

***

"Jesus, how long does it take to pick out some fucking clothes," Beau groans from beyond the changing room curtain. We couldn't go to any of the shops in town according to Fiona, so we took a very long ride, although not in a limo this time, to a shopping district so expensive I've never even considered shopping there. We've been at it for a few hours already, although Beau started complaining almost immediately.

I stare at my reflection uncomfortably, pulling the slinky top over my body. That can't be right, I think to myself, eyeing the strange, asymmetric cut outs down the ribs. I throw on a pair of jeans without looking at the price. No jeans should be so expensive, I roll my eyes at the last few pairs I've discarded on the stool. "What do you think?" I step out from behind the curtain, lifting my arms to the side and doing an awkward spin for Beau. "Fit to be a rockstars girlfriend?"

He laughs, fueling my annoyance even more. I'm out of my element here and I've been saddled with the world's most unhelpful partner. "Hey, stop," Beau grabs my hand before I can go back into the fitting room. "Who cares what you wear?"

"Fiona does." I roll my eyes and place my hands on my hips, already beginning to feel the same annoyance at the publicist that Beau does.

Beau groans, throwing his head back dramatically. "Not what I meant." He pulls me in front of the tall mirror leaning against the wall. "What I meant is, no one cares what you're wearing, as long as you look fucking good wearing it." He stands behind me, both of us staring at my reflection. Confused at his words, I pull at the seams of the top, trying to cover up at least some of my torso skin.

"I don't think anyone looks good in this shirt," I mumble, feeling uneasy under Beau's gaze. I cross my arms over my chest and turn to the changing room once more.

"Agree to disagree," I hear Beau mutter under his breath as I pull the curtain closed. I bite my lip to keep my comments to myself, knowing he would probably call the whole thing off if he knew I'd heard him.

I change into a pair of ripped, light wash jeans. Ripped is probably an understatement, I trail my fingers over all the fraying denim strands. My skin is visible through most of the pants, the tears in the denim are pretty wide at some spots. Curiously, I grab a black t-shirt with a skull design on the front. The shirt ties in a knot at the front, revealing a strip of soft belly skin. I put a thin black belt through my belt loops and walk out to show Beau.

He looks up from his phone, his Cheshire Cat smile spreading across his face. "Feeling edgy, Emma?"

I shift uncomfortably in the mirror. "It's not really my style," Do I have a style? I wonder to myself. I don't think a coffee-stained apron counts. I turn and check out my behind in the mirror, feeling more comfortable in these clothes than the others I'd tried on. I catch Beau also checking me out in the mirror. He meets my eyes and doesn't look away.

"Doesn't really matter does it?" Beau exhales finally, boredom etched across his features. "Just has to be Beau Lewis's girlfriend's style,"

I flush deeply when I realize how well my outfit goes with Beau's leather jacket and torn jeans. Add some black boots and we're basically twins. And this is the outfit I'm most comfortable in? I roll my eyes at myself, forcing myself to change quickly and just make the purchase and be done with it.

"Hungry?" I ask Beau when we've finally finished shopping. We're in public, anyone could see us so we might as well get used to the act. I hesitate before taking Beau's hand in mine, but ultimately make the decision to go for it. It won't get any easier if we don't start somewhere, I sigh.

Beau pulls away slightly, "What're you doing?" He whispers into my hair.

"My job." I snap, plastering a fake smile on my face as I notice other shoppers looking at us. This will be hard to get used to - eyes on me at all times. "You'd do well to remember it's not my ass on the line," I hope he sees the urgency in my eyes.

His gaze slowly finds its way to the onlookers outside the store. "Starving." Beau forces the word out of his mouth, an equally forced half smile on his face.

"Let's go eat," I tug his hand, but he doesn't budge. He only smirks down at me smugly, like he knows something  that I don't. Before I can react, he leans down, his long hair tickling my face as he presses his mouth to mine. I hesitate before finally wrapping my arms around his neck, the way I imagine a girlfriend would kiss her boyfriend on a casual shopping date. My lips part in a gasp as Beau's long fingers reach down and grab my butt, accidentally giving him access inside my mouth. He shoves his tongue inside, and I'm dizzy as his taste overwhelms me.

Just as quickly as it began, Beau stops the kiss, pulling back and dragging me out of the store, my shopping bags in his hands. I almost think it's a gentlemanly thing to do, but ultimately, it would be impossible for me to carry them all myself. He's just being practical, really, I think to myself as I grab the remaining bags and follow him out of the store.

The group of fans who had spotted us are still staring, jaws dropped and cellphones out, probably taking pictures. My stomach drops as the realization hits me. I knew what I was getting into when I made the deal, I just hope it doesn't all backfire on me in the end.

Well, I guess we got our work in for the day. Fiona should be pleased, at least.

Beau picks an expensive sushi place on his own, and I, still a bit dazed, don't argue, despite the fact that I hate seafood. Once we're seated, Beau opens his menu carefully. Avoiding my eyes, he speaks behind it, sarcasm coloring his tone, "Awfully quiet over there, Emma."

I shake my head, trying to straighten out my thoughts. "I'm just thinking of all my new clothes, and well everything. It's a lot to process," I lie, searching the menu for anything without fish.

Beau eyes me carefully. "Well there's no backing out now. Right?"

I roll my eyes at him, taking a sip of the water the waitress put down in front of me. "I'm not going to back out, I need the money." I look around the restaurant, noticing all the expensively dressed visitors. For the most part, they seem to mind their business. Still, there are a few in the younger crowds who seem to watch us curiously.

"Ah yes," Beau sets down the menu, leaning forward over the table. "To pursue your lifelong dream of becoming an academic," His green eyes twinkle as he teases me.

"What about you?" I turn the conversation back to him. "Did you always know you wanted to be a musician?"

Beau squints his eyes at me, pushing back from the table defensively. "Why?"

Is he being serious? "It's my job to know," I remind him, my own patience running a bit thin. My lips are sore from his kiss, and once we're not in public, we'll have to set up some other ground rules for our public displays of affection.

"Everything you need to know about me, you can find on the internet." His voice is clipped and he's picking at his nail polish again. Nail polish that is only on one hand, I note, wondering if he has trouble painting the rest with his non-dominant hand.

"Like I said, it's not my ass on the line. I mess this up? Fine, I work at the coffee shop and it takes me awhile longer to get to college. That's fine with me." I sip my water casually, hoping we don't look too irritated in front of everyone else. "But what about you? How long before MisFits kicks you out and gets another, better behaved guitar player?"

My words sting and I know it - especially after the argument I overheard between him and Tyler the night before. When he looks back at me, his eyes are blank again, no emotion behind them at all. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

My voice softens and I reach for his hand across the table. "So tell me, then," I encourage him. There's got to be more to him than the jerk he shows to the world. And that's the part I have to get to know, if I'm going to do this right.

"Like I said," Beau snaps, pulling his hand away from me, "It's all online - why don't you spend some time doing your research? Actually work for the money we're paying you,"

My anger is building and I want to shout at him, to make him understand that he can't just treat people poorly because he's famous. But I can feel people watching us and like it or not, I made a deal. I'll keep my word, no matter how hard Beau tries to make it for me. It'll all be worth it, some day, I tell myself, images of a green quad and old University library filling my mind.

"Okay," I say simply, retrieving my phone from my bag.

"What?" Beau grumbles.

I ignore him, searching Beau Lewis on my phone. Hundreds of results pop up, the top results all concerning his most recent arrest. "True or false," I begin, finally stumbling upon a fan page, "Your birthday is April 10th?"

"People could hear us," Beau argues lamely, a dissatisfied pout on his lips.

I shake my head. "No one is listening. True or false?" I repeat, determined to get an answer even if it takes all of dinner.

Beau clenches his jaw, probably upset that I didn't react more to his childish attitude. "True," He finally grunts, allowing me to move on to the next fun fact. I smile at the accomplishment, aware that Beau is extremely unhappy to not be getting his way.

Well tough, I think to myself. I'm this close to making it to my dream, and nothing is going to get in my way. Not even Beau Lewis.