“Some.” She grins. “Though probably just enough to be dangerous. Is that Vega?” She points almost directly overhead.
“Yeah.” I lay back, unable to help smiling at her enthusiasm. “Part of the Summer Triangle with Deneb and Altair. Though technically, Vega will be our North Star in about 12,000 years due to axial precession.”
“Because Earth wobbles like a top?” She turns to face me. “That’s how we know some fossils formed in different latitudes than where we find them now - we can track magnetic alignment in the minerals.”
Christ, she’s brilliant. And she doesn’t even seem to realize it, just gets genuinely excited about connecting different pieces of science. I find myself telling her about spectroscopy, about how we can determine what stars are made of just by analyzing their light. She asks about Europa, about whether we could use similar techniques to study its ocean composition.
“Sorry,” she blurts. “I’m probably asking too many questions.”
“No,” I say quickly. “I... I like it. Most people’s eyesglaze over when I talk about this stuff.” I pause, then admit, “I’ve never actually brought anyone here before.”
“Well, I won’tprobemuch more then.”
I narrow my eyes.
“Did you really just make a probe joke?” It takes all my will not to make a probe joke of my own.
She’s quiet for a moment. “Thank you for sharing it with me. This will definitely help sell our story tomorrow - ‘How did you fall for him?’ ‘Oh, he showed me his secret stargazing spot and taught me about constellations.’” Her tone is light, teasing.
“Very convincing,” I manage, trying to match her tone even as something twists in my gut. “Though maybe leave out the part where you made terrible space probe jokes.”
“Hey! That joke was stellar.” She bumps my shoulder. “Get it? Stellar?”
“And this is why we’re only fake dating.”
The words tumble out, and Tara tenses slightly beside me.Fuck. I’m the one who set these boundaries, who keeps reminding us both this isn’t real. I have no right to feel gutted when she plays along.
“Right,” she says softly. “Just practicing for tomorrow. Though I have to say, you’re making it easy. Taking me stargazing, teaching me about constellations... If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were actually trying to sweep me off my feet, Spencer.”
“Just being thorough, like you,” I say, falling back on our usual banter even as my thumb traces patterns on her palm. “Got to make it convincing for my family.”
“Very thorough.” Her voice has that edge that makes my skin tingle. “Anything else I should know? For show, of course.”
“Of course.” I shift closer, telling myself it’s just to point out another constellation. “I secretly prefer moons to planets. Don’t tell anyone,” I whisper.
She turns to look at me, and in the starlight, her expression is impossibly soft. “Good thing, because I prefer astronomers to planets.”
Don’t, I want to say.Don’t make me want this for real. Instead, I clear my throat. “You should add that line tomorrow. Very convincing.”
“Right.” She looks away.
We fall into silence, watching satellites drift overhead. Her hand is still in mine, and I find myself tracing constellation patterns on her palm, pretending I don’t wish this was real.
Freddie findsme in the kitchen at 3 AM. He’s probably just finished FaceTiming Alex, which explains the dopey smile he tries to hide when he spots me.
“Hey, good morning,” he says, grabbing water from the fridge. He doesn’t question why I’m up late; he’s used to it. My sleep schedule is unpredictable and there’s been plenty of times like this over the last few years.
I grunt in response, focused on my coffee. My thoughts about Tara won’t shut up long enough to let me sleep.
“Or goodnight?” He settles across from me. “You know, normal people actually sleep sometimes.”
“You’re awake too.”
“Yeah, but I was talking to Alex.” Bingo. “What’s your excuse?”
“Work.”
“Right.” He studies me for a moment. “Nothing to do with a certain blonde who keeps showing up here?”
