Our eyes lock, and my heart stops beating as I wait for him to laugh this whole thing off. But then he extends his hand across the table, right there in full view of Phone Girl and everyone else.
“Okay. Let’s do it. Fake boyfriends.”
I take his hand, and the warmth of his palm sends a current up my arm. His fingers close around mine, and I instantly know I’ve volunteered for my own execution. “Fake boyfriends.”
“So,” Jackson says, still holding my hand. “Should we start now? Give her something to really talk about?”
My mouth goes dry. “What did you have in mind?”
He grins, that crooked smile that makes my knees weak, and uses our joined hands to pull me slightly over the table. “This.”
He leans forward. His lips touch mine, feather-light, gone almost before I register the warmth. My stomach drops like I’ve missed a step on the stairs. My fingers grip the edge of the table as electricity shoots from my mouth down my spine. The scent of his cologne fills my lungs. When he pulls back, a flush creeps up his neck, staining his cheeks the color of the neon lobster sign outside.
“Too much?” he asks quietly.
Not enough. Never enough. I want you to kiss me for real. And mean it.
“Perfect,” I manage. “Very believable. We don’t want to give away the farm. We need them to keep coming back for more.”
We finish lunch in relative silence, both lost in our own thoughts. Under the table, our feet bump. I should move mine away, but I don’t. Neither does he. My throat tightens with each accidental touch—is it accidental? I want to believe it means something, even though I know it can’t. This fake relationship is the stupidest, most brilliant idea I’ve ever had. I’m setting myself up for heartbreak, creating memories I’ll torture myself with later. But I still can’t make myself stop.
Three months of pretending to be his, followed by a lifetime of knowing what I almost had. Is it worth it? Absolutely not. Will I do it anyway? God help me, yes.
“You really thinkthis is going to work?” Jackson asks softly as we walk through the parking lot, our stomachs full. “We went from outright denying and telling everyone they were wrong, to saying they’re right. And, I mean, you’re the guy who never dates, only…fucks. And now you’re in a committed relationship with me.” His cheeks flood with color when he says the wordfucks,the pink spreading up to the tips of his ears.
I shrug because I honestly don’t know what to say. Will it work? I hope so. Are people questioning my sudden monogamy? Absolutely.
“Why have you never dated? Why do you only hook up?” Jackson asks.
My mouth pops open, and I almost tell him the truth about how my dad left me terrified of commitment. How watching my mom fall apart made me swear I’d never give someone thatpower over me. How I’m a fucking coward who uses casual sex as armor against real intimacy.
But I don’t for one simple fucking reason. If I tell him why, he’ll want to hug me and make things better.
I am broken. And no amount of fixing me will work.
“I like sex. I like giving and receiving. I like making people fall apart with my hands, my mouth…my cock. Variety is the spice of life, Jacky. But for you, I’ll ‘fake commit.’ I’ll be the best damn monogamous man you’ve ever met.”
He nods after mulling it over. “I guess that makes sense. There’s just one other thing.”
“What’s that?”
“We need something that’s going to solidify the ‘truth.’”
Again, I don’t consider myself particularly intelligent. But another idea strikes me.
The library’sautomatic doors whoosh open, and I stride in, a man on a mission. Sarah Piper usually works Saturday afternoons, and if my timing’s right, she’ll be at the reference desk pretending to work.
Sure enough, there she is. Black hair pulled into a messy bun, red lipstick perfect despite it being 2:00 p.m., fingers flying across the keyboard. She doesn’t look up when I approach, which means she knows I’m here and is making me wait. Classic Sarah.
“I need a favor,” I announce, leaning against the desk.
“No.” She doesn’t even stop typing.
“You don’t know what I’m asking for yet.”
“Don’t care. Still no.” Her eyes flick up to mine for a split second. “Whatever scheme you’re cooking up, Larney, I want no part of it.”
Time for the nuclear option, I guess. I glance around to make sure we’re alone, then drop to my knees. “Please, Sarah. I’m begging you.”
