"So," he says casually, "you were really impressed by my restraint tonight?"
I glance up. "Yes, you didn't take Ethan's bait," I clarify, pouring the hot milk into mugs filled with cocoa powder. "All those little digs... he was practically begging for a reaction."
Bash shrugs, reaching for the schnapps bottle. "I've dealt with plenty of Ethans. Men who need to tear others down to feel bigger."
"Still." I accept the splash of peppermint he adds to my mug. "Most guys would've snapped."
"I'm not most guys," he says quietly, his eyes meeting mine. "And besides, why waste energy on him when I could focus on you instead?"
And that simple statement hits me low in my belly. Not a flutter, not a tingle, a full, molten weight that spreads through me like warm honey. I slightly turn my face as I begin stirring both mugs to hide whatever expression is on my face, but I know he sees right through me.
"What?" he asks, and I can practically hear the smirk he’s wearing.
"Nothing." I focus on stirring.
"I wanted to though." he quietly adds.
I shake my head, and take a little sip, the liquid burns my tongue but I welcome the feel. "That's why you shouldn't have. He was fishing for a reaction."
"He got one. Just not the one he wanted." Bash accepts the mug I hand him, our fingers brushing. "I think he expected me to make a scene."
"That would've been exactly what he wanted. Proof that you're just some hothead who can't control his temper. Instead, you were calm, collected, and made him look petty."
"A million different scenarios were going through my head," he admits, taking a sip. "But then I looked at you, and..."
"And what?" I ask when he doesn't continue.
"And I remembered why we're here. To make him jealous, right?" There's something in his tone I can't quite place. "Mission accomplished, by the way. Did you see his face when you were talking about heli-skiing?"
I laugh, but it sounds hollow even to my own ears. "Right. The mission." I take a larger sip of my drink. This is getting complicated. Too complicated. I need to remember this is all for show.
Isn't it?
I down the rest of my drink and immediately pour another, heavier on the schnapps this time.
"Whoa, slow down there," Bash says, his brow furrowing. "You okay?"
"Perfect," I say, too brightly. "Just... processing. It's weird seeing Ethan so petty. I used to think he hung the moon."
He studies me for a moment. "And now?"
"Now I wonder what I ever saw in him." I take another sip. "But that's not the point. The point is, you're doing an amazing job at this whole fake boyfriend thing. Above and beyond, really."
Something flickers across his face—disappointment? He sets his mug down with a definitive click. "Charlie."
"What?"
"What's going on? You're acting... off."
"Nothing's going on." I shrug, avoiding his eyes. "Just tired. It's been a long day."
He steps closer, his voice dropping. "Are you regretting what happened earlier? In the shower?"
"No." The answer comes too quickly, too forcefully. "I mean, no. That was... that was great."
"Then what is it? Because one minute you're looking at me like..." He runs a hand through his hair, frustration evident. "And the next, you're pulling away."
I set my mug down, suddenly overwhelmed. "I don't know what this is anymore, Bash. It was supposed to be simple. Pretend to date, survive this trip."
