I give a tight-lipped grin.
“What?” he asks bashfully. “I mean, you’re right. I can’t keep avoiding this. And I’m not. Between you and Jerome, I’m feeling a little more level-headed.”
“Are you really?” I test him.
“Yeah, I know I’ve been holding onto the past a little too hard. I’m ready to put it behind me and start showing up again.”
“You’re welcome.” I lift my shoulder to my cheek and smile. “As your fake girlfriend, that’s what I’m here for. Your emotional support.”
Othello chuckles. “That fake girlfriend title is getting harder and harder to believe. It’s beginning to feel anything but fake.”
He holds my gaze, and the words linger in the air between us. I feel exactly what he means, but I won’t agree with him. Not out loud. Because I’m already standing too close to the edge of something I promised myself I wouldn’t fall into.
“Why did we agree to this shit again?” he asks.
His visceral reactions crack me up. “Othello,wedidn’t originally agree to this. You pulled me into this fake dating circus.”
“Circus? Damn, I don’t think it’s been that crazy. I’ve actually enjoyed this time with you. And to be honest, I wouldn’t mind putting this whole charade to the side.”
What he says catches me by surprise, making my heart stumble in a chaotic beat. To stop playing this game with him would mean letting something real take its place. And as much as I’ve wrestled with the idea, we absolutely can not.
My relationships always start out like this. Pining during the spark stage where everything is bubbly and giddy. Men playing with my emotions while I fall too soon and too fast for theirsweet charm. Me not seeing their intent being for a good time, not a long time.
It’s all butterflies and lies.
And every moment I’ve shared with Othello has all been too good to be true.
It could be the environment. Where we are. Here in Maui with these magical moments in paradise. It’s all just too…magical. And that’s not real. It’s a facade. Blinders to get me caught up. Everything about him and the way he makes me feel is all too familiar. All too perfect. And perfect makes me nervous.
Othello’s finger slides beneath my chin, lifting my face towards his, and pulling me back into the moment.
“What are you overthinking now?” he asks, searching my eyes intently.
“I’m thinking that we can’t do this.”
“Why not?”
“Because this is all temporary. This trip...us.”
“It doesn’t feel temporary to me.”
“We can’t,” I tell him. “That would be breaking rule number four, and we said we wouldn’t cross any lines.”
“Do you honestly think we’re still behind that line?”
His gaze is latched onto mine, and I tear my eyes away. In the distance, I can see the resort looming ahead.
“It doesn’t matter what I think, Othello. Everything I’ve endured in the last 72 hours has been stressful enough. Why make it more complicated by crossing that line?” I argue. “The rule was set to protect us. That’s why I set it.”
Othello rears his head back. “You mean protectyou? I don't need protection from you, Marley.”
His words hit like a punch to the gut. The wall I’ve set up feels so fragile right now, ready to cave in. But I hold myself against it, refusing to let it fall.
“Othello...”
“Listen,” he says, his voice sincere. “The only reason I agreed to those rules is because I respect you, but don't confuse my respect for self-control. The truth is, I’ve been completely unraveling since the day I met you, and a rule you made up isn't going to stop me from falling.”
Falling?
