“You sure this is fake?” he asks quietly.
“Yes.”
He studies me. “You look like you’re restraining yourself from something.”
“I am.”
He snorts. “Good luck with that.”
The real test comes when she shows up at my cabin unannounced one night.
I open the door to find her standing there in fitted jeans and a cropped sweater that does nothing to help my breathing.
“Evening,” she says brightly.
“It’s eight.”
“Yes.”
“Why are you here?”
She steps past me like she belongs here. “Field training.”
I shut the door slowly. “Explain.”
She drops her bag on my couch and looks around critically. “This place screams emotionally unavailable bachelor.”
“It is an emotionally unavailable bachelor’s cabin.”
“Exactly.” She walks into the living room and starts rearranging furniture.
“You can’t just?—”
“I can,” she interrupts. “If we’re going to sell this relationship, I need to know how you move in your own space.”
“I move fine.”
She picks up a throw pillow and tosses it aside. “You move like a man who’s been alone too long.”
I cross my arms and watch her. Big mistake. She bends to adjust the rug. My jaw tightens.
“You’re staring,” she says without looking up.
“You’re trespassing.”
“Semantics.”
She straightens and faces me. “Sit.”
“I’m not a dog.”
“Sit, Levi.”
I don’t know why I obey. She studies me from across the room.
“We need natural touch,” she says. “Casual proximity.”
“You’ve had plenty of that this week.”
