Page 65 of The Casanova Complex

My stomach’s been doing that flip-flopping thing every time she looks at me, and I’m very much aware that I should get this little crush I have on her under control.

It would be the smart thing to do.

Having a crush on my fake girlfriend is a recipe for fucking disaster, but I can’t seem to turn it off.

Especially when it’s clear that even though she’s attracted to me, she’s not interested in actually exploring shit outside of the arrangement we have. She’s made that abundantly clear.

And I’m kinda worried because I’m fucking into her. So into her.

Not fake, but for real.

I think I probably have been since I got on my knees in the study room the very first time I laid eyes on her.

It’s just a little crush… that makes my heart race and my hands feel clammy like I’m a goddamn teenager.

No big deal.

Which is even more of a reason for me to keep the promise that I made to myself. I’ve spent my entire life jumping into physical relationship after physical relationship, and this time… I just want to take it a little slower and make sure I’m not making the same mistake again.

That I’m not only feeling this way about her because I’m insanely attracted to her.

So that means that I have to be strong, even when I feel like breaking, until I know without a shadow of a doubt that this is it.

That she’s it.

Because I don’t want to fuck this up.

Merritt nods with a soft smile, her gaze shifting back to her brother. “He is a great kid. The best kid, actually. And he’s…” She trails off, and I watch her throat move as she swallows. “He’s not always had it the easiest, but he’s resilient, and smart, and funny.”

“I can tell. It’s obvious that even though he might give you shit, it’s just because he’s your little brother. You can tell how much he loves and respects you. Not something preteen boys give easily. Been there.” I study her as we walk, the full moon above us bathing her pale skin in moonlight. It’s impossible to look anywhere else. I drag my eyes along her high cheekbones, the spot in her cheek that makes an adorable-as-fuck dimple when she flashes a rare full-blown smile.

Most of them tonight have been aimed at her brother.

“Yeah. He’s got my humor, for sure. I worry about him a lot because of how much time he spends alone. My dad’s always working, and I’m constantly back and forth to campus with class and studying. I just wish it was easier for him to make friends. He’s kind of guarded… like me.”

I chuckle lowly. “Yeah? You don’t say?”

“Shut up,” she mutters, bumping against my arm. “He’s just… protective of himself, that’s all.”

And by him, she also means her.

I hear what she doesn’t say, not only what she does.

That’s the thing about me.

People assume that just because I’m fun, and outgoing, and carefree, that I don’t pay attention to things.

They’re wrong.

We come to a stop at one of the last houses on the street that has a haunted house, and Elliott runs up straight to Merritt. “Can I go, Mer? Please? I’ll stay with Gavin, I swear.”

After a second, her daze darts to mine, and I shrug, and then she looks back at her brother. “Fine. But I’m staying out here. You know I don’t do haunted houses. Meet us back out here when you’re done.”

He nods and then dashes back off with his friends.

I slide my hands into the pockets of my sweats and look back at Merritt. “You don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to.”

She eyes me hesitantly, her dark eyes gleaming with wariness, but I gave her the out if she wants it, and if there’s anything I’ve learned about Merritt, it’s that she’s never going to hold her tongue about anything.