What the hell, Frances?
That cursed kiss really shouldn’t have happened.
Someone clears their throat.
Right.
His parents.
The ones who have been stunned to silence by my impassioned speech before I got distracted. I need to focus. I came here to extract Lewis from this situation, not to remember how he kissed me, and yearn for an encore while standing right in front of his parents. I’m here as his pretend girlfriend and confrontation buffer. Which iswhyLewis looked at me like that. He’s doing a better job at faking this than I am.
Mentally, I tip a bucket of ice water over my face, forcing my thoughts back on track. Physically, I shove my hand toward Mrs. North first, then Mr. North. Both have rearranged their faces into polite smiles.
“Anyway. Congratulations on your son’s graduation!”
Mr. North grips my hand confidently. “Thank you. We’re very proud of our Benjamin.” By now I’ve seen enough of this man to understand that the side-eye at Lewis is fully intentional. I really have no time to lose to get us out of the perimeter of Lewis’s perpetually disappointed parents.
I smile sweetly. “I can see that. It’s a very… grand celebration. If you go all out for a BSc, it makes me wonder what you would’ve done for Lewis’s PhD. It’s probably good that you weren’t even talking to him when he graduated.”
Mrs. North covers up her cry of surprise with a cough. Mr. North releases my hand and the grin stays on his face, except it’s looking a little tight now. “You must be the girlfriend that Ada told us about. Miss…”
“Silberstein,” I inform him. “Though that’sDoctorto you.” When I turn, a smirk plays around the corners of Lewis’s mouth. I rub the tip of his shirt collar between my fingertips. “Wanna dance?”
He blinks at me, catching my hand and pressing it against his chest. Through the three layers of fabric, I feel the quickened beat of his heart. “Yeah, I do.”
Once we’re out of Lewis’s parents’ sight, I suggest taking a breath outside. My legs are tired after all the dancing with Alice, and Lewis’s pensive expression tells me he’d rather talk than twirl me around to the beat of an eighties power ballad. With a hand on the small of my back, Lewis guides me throughthe clusters of party guests to a corner of the stargazing deck, and I have a hard time trying not to think about the charge that circles around his touch.
Lewis lets go of me and leans his back against the railing. As he takes a deep breath of the night air, he closes his eyes, like he needs to process the encounter with his parents. I leave him to it, glad to have a moment to collect myself, too.
It feels like I’ve stepped into a dream. I don’t know if it’s the alcohol I’ve consumed, or the waves that lap against the bow and drown out the noise from inside, but the world seems a little smudged around the edges. There’s a salty wind toying with the hem of my dress, raising goosebumps on my skin, and blowing Lewis’s hair onto his forehead. The gentle sway of the boat nudges me to take a step forward, to get closer to Lewis, who looks all levels of handsome framed by the twinkling lights of Manhattan’s skyscrapers.
As if he’s sensing my proximity, he opens his eyes. “I’m such an idiot.” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Making you go to this stupidly fancy party, then I barely even talk to my brother, and I end up trapped with my parents pulling the same stunts they always have.”
I give him an encouraging smile. “You made an effort to see your family and showed Ben that you care. I don’t think that makes you an idiot.”
Lewis ducks his head to catch my gaze. “Thank you for saving me in there. And for everything you said.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” I say, distracted by how he reaches to tug at the knot of his tie, then slides the top two buttons of his shirt open. “To convincingly pose as your girlfriend.”
With his tie undone like that, hair ruffled, and frown etched into his brow, I finally admit to myself that me being convincing is not about my acting skills anymore. I feel tingly and lightheaded, as if I’ve downed too many glasses of bubbly.Something soft and giddy at my core makes me want to run my fingers over the lines of worry on Lewis’s forehead.
No, Frances, no.
I give myself a mental shake. There’s no need to touch him now, when nobody out here needs to be convinced of our relationship status.
The kiss and all this play-pretend are messing with my head.
“If it was only about that,” Lewis remarks, eyes roaming over me, “you wouldn’t have had to say all those things. You could’ve just interrupted and pulled me away.”
I could’ve, but it didn’t occur to me then. Instead, all I wanted was for him to understand he had someone looking out for him, and maybe that’s even more worrisome than the lingering attraction in my belly.
“Or maybe I should’ve kissed you instead,” I retort, knowing it’ll make him blush. “Thatwould’ve shut them up.”
As predicted, his cheeks redden, but he looks unfazed by it, his mouth cutting into a knowing smile. “Must’ve been a good kiss if you’re still thinking about it,” he observes drily.
He looks smug as he tracks the heat that now rises into my face, too.
I make an attempt to steer the conversation into safer waters. “How do you feel about tomorrow?”
