Page 29

I looked back down and pretended I hadn’t seen it. “Oh right, there it is, no sex.”

“And here.” She handed me a packet.

“What is this?” I asked as I took it from her.

“It’s background on me. On us. On each other, on the details of our relationship.”

“Ah.” I could not be more amused at how seriously she was taking this. It was fucking adorable.

“When did you write this, and how did you print it out?”

“I wrote it up as soon as I got back from the barbeque, and I always bring a portable printer.” She pointed at the kitchenette table, where there was a black rectangle with paper in it. “I tried to keep things as close to the truth as possible, like how we met.”

I began reading through the ten-page document. The first two pages were a family tree of sorts. The document listed every aunt, uncle, and cousin and how she was related to them. She’d even included photos.

Her mom, Claudia, had four siblings: three sisters Beverly, Reba, and Laura, and a brother Ray.

Ray was married to Cherise, and they had three children. Julissa (the bride) and two sons, Christian and Silas.

Her Aunt Laura was married to a man named Stephen. They had three daughters, Scarlett, Sutton, and Simone.

Aunt Reba was married to Dale, and they had one daughter, Joanie, who was engaged to Jacob.

And finally, her Aunt Beverly, who didn’t have a partner or children, who she was the closest with.

“You don’t have to memorize it or anything, I just wanted you to be familiar," she explained.

“You’re nothing if not thorough,” I replied and continued to flip through the pages for about thirty seconds, scanning each one. “Okay, got it.” I handed it back to her.

Her eyes narrowed. “There’s no way you read all that.”

I knew most of the information on it, so it’s not like I was coming in blind. I’d been keeping up with her social media since the day I met her, and I was observant.

“I got it, don’t stress.”

“I’m not stressed,” she spoke through a clenched jaw. “But if we’re going to do this, we can’t half-ass it. We have to seem believable as a couple.”

I stared at her until her cheeks flushed. “That’s not going to be a problem.”

She cleared her throat. “I realize you could have chemistry with a tree, but I’m not talking about attraction.” She held up the folder. “I’m talking about knowing each other.”

“So am I.”

She sighed. “Okay, when’s my birthday?”

“July fourteenth.” She’d posted that day that her idea of fun was going to bed before nine p.m. with a selfie of her in said bed.

“Favorite movie?”

“Good Will Hunting.” Around Christmas time she posted herself with popcorn, snuggled up on her couch with a caption that said, “Rewatching GWH for the hundredth time. Best. Movie. Ever.”

“How did we meet?”

I smiled, remembering the first time he’d laid eyes on Mikayla Parsons. She was trying to negotiate with Rambo, the rooster who had her cornered. She hid behind me.

“I saved you from cock.”

“Ha ha.”