With Isla still over my shoulder I walked her to my bedroom, shutting the door behind us. I placed Isla down softly on my queen-sized bed, her blonde hair splaying out across my black comforter as she stared up at the ceiling.
Sitting down next to her, I asked, “What’s wrong?”
She threw her arm over her face, but then quickly put it back down at her side. “She’s right, Slate!” she whisper-yelled, placing her arm over her face again. “I was a fool to think we could pull this off.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, pulling her arm away from her face. “You and I are great together, that’s why we’re such good friends. And we killed it at that game. Why are you listening to desperate and crazy Harper? She’s just jealous of you.”
Harper was living in crazytown, and I couldn’t understand why Isla would care about what she thought.
“She’s not jealous of me. She’s jealous that I’m with you,” she said.
“And what does that have to do with anything?”
She continued to stare at the ceiling. “If she’s suspicious of our relationship, how many other people are wondering if we are faking it?”
“No one else has caught on. No one is watching us that closely. Harper is just a borderline stalker.” I hoped my words were sinking in.
She bit her lip. “I don’t know.”
“People think we are crazy about each other.” I gestured to the door behind me. “They all think we are in here celebrating right now.”
She finally turned her head and looked at me with no excitement. “You’re not going to make me fake it with you again, are you?”
I gave her a wicked grin. “We could just do the real thing?”
Her hand came up and slapped me in the chest. “Not gonna happen.”
“Fine. But you’re missing out,” I teased.
“I don’t doubt that,” she said, surprising me. “But friends don’t have sex.” She pointed her finger at me indicating that was her final word.
“True,” I agreed. “But we do need to keep up the pretense that we are having sex.”
She looked at me with a skeptical look. “Should I be worried about how you want to prove that?”
I stood up, grabbed her hand and pulled her off the bed. “C’mon, let’s go get your stuff. You’re staying over here tonight.”
Although Harper had been jealous, she had a point. It would be weird if a new couple, especially someone with my history, was not spending the night together occasionally.
“What?” Her eyes went wide in alarm.
“Calm down,” I smiled. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”
Her shoulders relaxed, and she let out a heavy sigh. “Okay, fine. You’re probably right. We need to keep up appearances.”
I almost laughed. “This is the first time a girl has ever been disappointed about spending a night with me.”
She gave me a mischievous look, running her fingertips across my chest as she moved past me. “Maybe you’ve lost your touch.”
She was teasing me with her flirty response, and I couldn’t deny how much I liked it. She turned away from me to head toward the door, but before she got too far, my hand shot out, slapping her on the butt.
She spun around, her mouth open in shock.
I grinned. “I’ve definitely not lost my touch.”
* * *
The credits rolled on the TV screen as the movie we’d been watching came to an end. Rush and Scarlet were cuddled up on one of the couches, Olivia was halfway on top of Wilder as they tried to fit in the recliner together, and Isla and I had a couch cushion separating us.
