Alex rises as I approach. “Thanks for agreeing to hear me out.” Vulnerability flickers across his face, and for some reason, it eases the knot in my chest.
I set the cups on the table and slide into the chair across from him. His phone sits face down on the table, and I appreciate that. I’ve been on more than one date where the guy was on his screen more than he was with me.
“Bethany made us drinks.” I gesture to his. “Your usual.”
He wraps his hand around the cup, lifts it, and glances toward the counter. “Thanks, Bethany.”
A giggle drifts from behind me.
So, I’m not the only one with a crush on Alex.
He takes a sip, then lowers the cup with a hesitant look.
I could take offense, but instead I’m relieved. He’s nervous too. “I’m not sure?—”
“Look, I know?—”
We both stop, and I give him a tight smile, folding my hands on the table.
“You go first,” he says, gesturing to me.
I nod and take a breath. “Okay. First, is this real or is this a prank?”
Color rises in his cheeks as he shakes his head hard. “I’d never do that to you, Finley.”
I nod again.
Good move, Finley. He’s going to think you’re a bobble head.
I ignore the voice in my head and meet his gaze. “I need to make sure I understand. You want to bring a girlfriend home for Christmas.” I pause. “But we’ve never been on a date, so obviously, I won’t be your actual girlfriend.”
“Right,” he says, nodding, still looking nervous. “You’ll just pretend.” He grins, but it’s slightly crooked. “And while we’re not a couple, I like you as a person, so that’s a good place to start. We’re not total strangers.”
My heart caves in on itself. Hearing the guy you have a crush on say he likes you as a person is like him saying I think of you like a sister.
Why is that a surprise, Finley? You already knew he was too good for you.
I should get up and walk away. While my head knows the timing is wrong, I also know he’s out of my league. But my stupid heart is slow to catch up. It’s been broken too many times in my twenty-five years. Do I really want to risk it again?
Just hear him out.
Because while part of me dies knowing he doesn’t want me, the rest of me is leaping at the chance to experience the Christmas Mom and I always dreamed of.
“Okay,” I say tightly. “You need someone to fake being your girlfriend, so you don’t get stuck sleeping in bunk beds with a bunch of little kids?”
“It’s a sofa bed,” he corrects, his lips quirking up. “Honestly, bunk beds might be better. I want to enjoy my time with my family, not live in hell every night.” He pauses, then explains, “I’ve got two brothers and a sister. Tyler’s the oldest, so he always had his own room, Mallory is the youngest and the only girl, so she got her own room too. And since we lived in a four-bedroom house, Grant and I had to share a room. Whenever we go home, we all stay in our old rooms. Which works great for Tyler and Mallory, but not so great for Grant and me. But for the first time, Grant’s bringing his girlfriend, which means I’m stuck in the rec room with three tiny terrors and bed springs from hell. Unless”—his mouth tips up in a sly grin —“I show up with a girlfriend. And because I’m older, I’ll get the room.”
“That doesn’t seem fair,” I say. “Grant’s had his girlfriend longer.”
“But I’m older,” he says, like that settles it. “So, I get the room.”
I fold my arms over my chest. “Which still seems unfair.”
“I didn’t make the rules.”
“You’d seriously make your brother and his girlfriend sleep with kids on the bed from hell?”
He shrugs. “Grants younger than me and has a better back. He’ll survive.”
