That makes her smile look more genuine again.
“So, just to be clear, you’re offering to marry me because you want to make my life easier … and because you simply care about me as a person—asyourfriend—and not only because I’m Rowan’s sister?”
My eyes travel to hers, and I sigh in defeat. “Sure, let’s go with that.”
Her smile transforms into a full-on grin as she bounces up to tuck her feet beneath her. “Okay, then. I’ll consider it.”
“You’ll consider it?” I retort.
“Well, yeah. Don’t you think we should sleep on something this big? Pray about it?”
I grunt, annoyed because she tricked me into admitting all that just to leave me hanging. “You do that, then.”
“Landry,” she says, her expression almost patronizing. “I want you to have the option to change your mind. If I say yes now, you’ll feel obligated to go through with it, even if you find a reason to back out.”
The irony of her being the mature adult in this situation and insisting on considering the consequences of our actions isn’t lost on me. And it’s not very flattering.
“Okay, but you don’t have long to make up your mind. There’s no point in getting married if we don’t get it done before you fall off your parents’ policy,” I tell her, as if she doesn’t know that already. “And I’ve gotta turn in this paperwork next week.”
“I’ll have an answer for you by then, I promise,” she replies with a smile.
It suddenly feels stifling in the room, so I give her a short nod before I stand abruptly, hoping to put some space between us.
“Landry?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you. For caring.” She lifts one of her nearly bare shoulders and lets it fall, and my attention is temporarily distracted again.
“Yeah—I mean, you’re welcome, I guess.” I stoop to pick up the spilled popcorn while I cringe at my awkward response. But something catches my eye, and I finally recognize the pile of fabric she set down on the coffee table earlier. It’s one of my shirts, but it’s no longer missing a button.
“Sorry I couldn’t find an exact match,” she says from the couch. “But this one’s close enough, right?”
I blink down at the formerly empty spot where the new hardware resides, the needle still stuck through one of the button’s four holes. No one’s ever sewn anything for me before—not even my mom.
My thumb brushes the side of the button, testing it out. But she’s secured it well, and she’s even managed to cover the holes the old button left behind.
“Uh, yeah. Thanks,” I choke out before I let the shirt fall onto the coffee table and retreat into the kitchen.
CHAPTER 8
daisy
My hands trembleas I pour coffee into a pair of mugs. Then I add a bit of cream to each before looping my fingers through the handles and leaving my right hand free to knock on my roommate’s bedroom door.
Unless he’s my fiancé now?
I’m still in disbelief of Landry’s offer to marry me last night. I know he’s only acting on some kind of protective instinct, whether it’s because I’m Rowan’s sister or because of my epilepsy. And he obviously sees this as nothing more than a short-term legal contract. But still ... this ismarriage. Maybe he doesn’t think he’ll be interested in getting remarried later, but what if the sacrifice he’s making for me now ends up costing him the chance for a real relationship in the future?
I may have been up all night considering the repercussions of this plan, such as the bleak prospect of being a divorced virgin in six months from now, but I can’t help but wonder if he’s thought any of this through. He made the offer so quickly that he couldn’t have realized the gravity of what we’ll be doing. Then again, he’s already said that he doesn’t buy into marriage, so maybe this really isn’t such a big deal for him. And he doesn’t seem the least bit concerned about any complications, like my brother finding out about our fake marriage or either of us developing romantic feelings for one another.
Ultimately, I’m going to do my best to look on the bright side. I can let all this doubt and stress get the best of me, or I can put my trust in Landry and choose to be grateful that he seems so confident in our plan.
I knock on the door again when he doesn’t answer. “Landry, are you up?”
“No,” he returns, his voice deep and muffled.
“It sounds like you’re up.”
