“Are you sure the stuff I’ve been doing is okay?” I ask.
She finally turns away from the sky and puts her hand over where I’m resting mine on the arm of a wrought-iron chair. “I know what I signed up for, Cal. It’s absolutely fine.” She stares atme warmly, and I like the feel of her hand in mine, the way I have all night. “I kind of wanted to pull Ivy’s hair, to be honest.”
I snort with laughter. “What?”
“Like, I get that you don’t have feelings for her and you’re fine and everything, but I hate what she did.” She squeezes my hand and lets go, like she just remembered we’re out here to take a breather from all the acting.
Warmth melts into my stomach at her protectiveness. “Me too,” I say. “But I’m also glad that we didn’t end up eloping.”
“Me too,” Malia echoes, giving me a small smile. “Not sure we’d have you on ourShadow Heroesteam.”
I hope it’s more than that, but I don’t say that out loud. Not yet. Next week I’ll text her. Maybe ask her back to that restaurant we got dessert at—on a real date.
“Caleb?” a voice calls, and I recognize my mom.
Malia must too, because she reacts immediately. She jumps out of her chair and right into my lap.
I’m so surprised by the gesture that it takes me a minute to wrap my arms around her. But when I do? It’s perfect. She layers her arms on top of mine, leaning back. Her sweet vanilla-coconut fragrance wraps around me. I’m not sure what my expression is when Mom rounds the corner to find us—maybe bewilderment at how much I like this—so I press it into Malia’s back.
“Oh, hi, Mrs. Gallagher,” Malia says a moment later in a bright voice, straightening a little. And because I know her voice so well, I hear the very slight tremor in it belying laughter. I tighten my arms a little bit.
Why haven’t Malia and I met in person before this? Why didn’t I recognize how much I enjoyed her company? I didn’t think that my experience with Ivy really hurt me, but did it make me hesitant and questioning? Somewhere, subconsciously, didI hold myself back because I was worried about rejection? Ironically, Ivy would probably know the answer to that.
“I wondered if Caleb was trying to sneak off …” Mom says with a light laugh. As in, she’s suspicious of me and Malia as well, and she thought we’d ditch as soon as possible. She probably thinks Malia is someone I met at a coffee shop this morning.
“Just taking a minute to ourselves.” I squeeze Malia, and I wish I could see her face. The skin of the back of her shoulders is so soft, and it’s tempting to drop a line of kisses along them.
Malia leans back into me again, turning so that our faces are close. “We should probably go back inside, though. This is Carlie’s night.” She stands and holds out a hand to me.
I stand as well and catch the flash of approval from Mom at Malia suggesting we rejoin the party. I lean close to whisper to her. “Well played. Mom approval unlocked.”
Malia grins.
“So Jenna says you two have known each other a while,” Mom asks as we make our way back into the restaurant. “How did you meet?”
“At a coffee shop this morning,” I say dryly. “Malia was in line in front of me and she looked like the type of girl who had a good job, so I went for it.”
Malia snorts and gives me a soft pat on the arm. “Stop teasing your mom,” she tells me, but her expression saysgood one.
“Oh, Caleb.” Mom sighs.
“We met in a Houston gamers forum,” Malia says, and she repeats our actual story, emphasizing how helpful I was in her finding good housing when she moved here.
Mom turns to me, her head tilted. I think she’s buying all this. In fact, she likes it. A swirl of guilt goes through me. I know my mom just wants what’s best for me. She doesn’t get my job, and finding me a capable, successful wife is her way of trying totake care of me. A good son would have been honest about not wanting to be set up with every summa cum laude at Carlie’s wedding and then steeled himself for being introduced to a few women anyway.
Instead I went out and found a fake girlfriend.
“What made you ask Malia out finally?” Mom asks, bringing me back to the present, where it’s too late to tell the truth and my mom is falling in love with my fake girlfriend.
How can I blame her? I’m definitely falling a little for her.
“I needed a date for a wedding,” I reply. Mom huffs in annoyance.
“Cal,” Malia says, shaking her head and smiling.
This whole time we’ve been sticking to the truth as much as possible, so I think about the last day and how I’ve realized what a good friend Malia has been to me and how dating makes sense.
“It just clicked one day.” I look down at Malia, hoping my expression is soft and genuine-looking. “I realized what a good friend she was and how much I enjoyed talking to her. It made sense to ask her out and spend more time with her.”
