Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 125257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
I swipe at my cheeks and keep digging. “I didn’t want them to split up either, so I would make dinner for them. I would plan a game night. I would set up candlelight and music and everything,” I say, my throat raw as I tell him the story. “I saw everything my mom was doing to try to help him, and I started doing it too, but for them.”
Lake rubs a palm on one of my knees, soothing me. His touch is so comforting—almost as much as the way he listens is. “When I plan dates now, it’s fun and I like it, but I think,” I say, then wince, because facing all your childhood issues is like scraping your skin against a jagged rock, “I’m just doing it out of this fear that if I don’t, somebody will split up. Like if I can create all the right vibes and the mood, people can stay in love.” I stop, replay what I just said. “Now that I say that out loud, it sounds ridiculous.”
“No.” His voice is strong and certain. He reaches for my hands and holds them tightly. “It’s not ridiculous. It’s not ridiculous at all. Those things do matter. But what you want also matters. That’s a lot to take on as a kid, and you don’t have to keep taking it on as an adult.”
Something heavy in my chest lifts even as a tear slips down one cheek. “I don’t think I want to take it on.”
A smile shifts his lips. “If it’s not what you want to do, then don’t do it. A date doesn’t have to have roses or a symphony to be special. A date can just be two people hanging out.”
Like this.
I want to say the next thing. I’m dying to say the next thing. That this list from Lacey has shown me that what matters in romance are the little moments. The unexpected. The challenges. Trying to make breakfast and failing. A cat breaking a plate and cleaning it up together. Helping someone’s parent. Volunteering for the other person’s event. Taking a road trip when you’re not even sure what to say to the other person. Dealing with a misunderstanding at the hotel desk. But if I say all that, then I’ll say something even scarier—that I’m falling for my fake boyfriend.
And that’s not in the rules we clearly laid out. Sure, I want to believe he feels something real. But I’ve been fooled before, not long ago.
I don’t want to make another mistake.
I pour all my focus into the one thing I’m sure of right now, and I say it with my whole heart. “I’m going to shut down Romance By Design,” I say, and wow.
My hand flies to my mouth, like I can’t believe I said that. But I’m so glad I said it. That is what I needed. That’s the step I needed to take. And now I do feel like it’s a summer day, and I’m lifting my face toward the sky.
I lower my hand. “Today! I’m going to do it today.”
“Proud of you,” he says with a gorgeous smile, one that floods my whole chest with lightness. I think I needed that kind of support. That kind of encouragement.
He squeezes my hands and that emboldens me. So I do something bold too. I cup his cheeks and I lean forward. I kiss him, soft, slow, and tender. Like I can tell him with the caress of my lips how much this fling has meant to me.
He’s done exactly what he promised he’d do. Shown me passion, honesty, and respect. And I try to say with the slide of my mouth, the stroke of my hand, the softness of our kiss what that means to me.
What he means.
Maybe later, maybe at another time, when I’m feeling braver, I can say it with words.
44
A GOOD A LOT
REMY
A little later, I’m ready to leave. After that emotional moment, I need to recalibrate.
Maybe he does too. Sometimes we need time apart to process.
There’s also the practical realities—I need to hustle back to my place and get ready to work for a couple of hours. “I have to help out with a VIP tour in a bit,” I say as I reach the door, my bag slung over my shoulder. “One of our charity partners has some VIPs in town, and Miller is going to be the tour guide.”
“That should make the tour last a couple of hours,” Lake jokes.
“And then I have the”—I pause to adopt a spooky tone and horror movie fingers—“spa day.”
He frowns, almost believably. He’s far too pleased about this timing. “Such a shame it’s a game day. Because I will be napping. I need it after this morning.”
He doesn’t mean the sex we had. Glad he feels the same.