“You don’t think she would approve?”
“I don’t know.” She seems to think about it for a minute. “I don’t think my mom would like it.”
“Does she have to?”
She sighs. “It would be easier if she did. Then I wouldn’t have to hear about how I’m too focused on my career and men don’t like women who are too independent.”
“You think that’s what she’d say?”
“Probably.”
“Well, for the record, I think ambitious, driven, independent women are hot as all holy hell.”
Lucy presses her lips together to stop her smile.
I can’t resist: I reach over to cup her face and lean in to press a kiss to her full, soft lips. We’re sliding around on the back seat of a car. I just want to get out of here and touch her. The more I get to know her, the more I want her. Properly. I love the way she tries to protect Katherine. She’s such a loving sister, but my heart aches that she can’t be honest with her. And maybe that keeps her from being honest with herself.
The cab hits a pothole, jolting us apart.
“What are we doing?” she asks. “Why do we keep kissing each other? We know it can’t go anywhere.”
I have to reach into the far corners of my brain to remember why. Oh, yes, because we don’t want to make anything awkward when things between us inevitably end.
“I like kissing you,” I confess, reaching across the seat and threading my fingers through hers.
“I like kissing you too. I also like Hershey’s Kisses, but I have to resist those or I’ll make myself sick.”
“No ill health effects from kissing me.”
She presses her lips together like she’s trying to stop her smile and looks out the window, but she doesn’t let go of my hand, and relief washes over me. I don’t want her to let go. I’m not sure if I’ll ever want her to let go. I like her touching me. I like kissing her. I want more. I want to know her more. Kiss her more. Listen to every last thoughtin her head. We’re heading toward my apartment, which is sort of on the way to her apartment in Brooklyn. I insisted on booking the Uber on my account, so it’s paid for. But she doesn’thaveto go across the bridge. She could come back to my place. We could kiss for hours. She could tell me more truths about herself. We could hold hands for the rest of the night.
“You know how we’re lying to protect your sister? Or something? And we’re not actually dating to protect your sister?”
“Yes,” she says suspiciously, like she knows some kind of harebrained idea is going to follow. She’s not wrong.
“Well, I thought that, given we’re such good liars—we have Ed and Katherine fooled, after all—if we were to ... I don’t know, actuallyhavedinner, and things went wrong, we could lie about it easily. Pretend everything’s fine. They wouldn’t have to know we hate each other. We’d just be switching the lie.”
She narrows her eyes like she’s really trying to concentrate on what I’m saying. “You think we should date?”
I pause for a second or two, but only for dramatic effect. The words are right there on the tip of my tongue. “I think about you all the time,” I confess. “Even when I haven’t seen you in weeks. When I actually do see you, I have a really great time. I like you. I like hanging out with you. I’d like to do that some more.”
Her slow smile is interrupted. “You have to promise me something.”
She could make me promise just about anything in this moment.
“No lies between us,” she continues. “You have to promise we tell each other the exact truth. All the time. No lies of omission, no keeping things from me because you think I’ll hate you, or because you don’t want to make joint celebrations difficult. If you tell the truth, I’ll always respect you, and if I respect you, I can’t hate you. I might not like you, but I can’t hate you.”
“Deal,” I say. It’s the easiest promise I’ve ever made.
She grins at me. “Okay, then.”
“Okay, then.”
“Wanna hang out some more tonight?” she asks.
“One hundred percent.”
The Uber pulls up in front of my building with perfect timing, and we clamber out. “I’ll have to go home before work. I don’t have a change of clothes,” she says, practical as ever.
