Probably the same kind I felt now, like ice freezing the river of fire in my veins.
Let me help you forget him. It’d worked,because for those ten seconds, when the world was exploding and folding in on itself all at the same time, I hadn’t thought about Dalton Giovanni at all.
Only Jamie.
Holy crap.
Nellie, having successfully shoved her way into the guest room, had her jaw dropped as she looked between her brother and me. “What—what are you two—what?”
I looked back to Jamie, half expecting his face to be tomato-red, because no way could he have kissed me likethat, gotten caught, and not be blushing like a maniac. Not quiet, bookish Jamie, who covered his eyes during rom-coms and hated reading books that had love stories in them. Except the only hint of his embarrassment was a pink flush creeping up the side of his neck.
“Well.” Jamie cleared his throat, his voice far steadier than I would’ve thought it’d be. Far steadier than mine would’ve been. In the sea of everyone clamoring closer into the doorway to catch a peek at the scandalous couple, Jamie only looked at me. “I guess we don’t have to hide anymore.”
My shoulders fell a little then in realization. Even though the sentence was a statement, I heard his unspoken question. A metaphorical hand offered out to close a business deal, paired with a literal spark of hope in his eyes. Every time Nellie had proposed the idea—fake dating—it’d made my skin crawl. It was like that whenever I thought of anyone other than Dalton Giovanni, because how could I fake being in love with someone while my heart still belonged to someone else?
Jamie, though. Maybe I could do it with Jamie.
And really, after being caught like this, I had no choice.
My finger trembled as I reached out, and, as gentle as another kiss itself, I eased his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Jamie’s dark lashes fluttered.
In a quiet murmur, I agreed, “I guess not.”
And just like that, our fake dating fate was sealed.
CHAPTER 5
The ride home from Lydia’s house was silent.
Nellie sat with her arms crossed over her chest in the passenger’s seat, and Jamie sat with his hands at ten-and-two on the steering wheel. I was in the middle seat in the back, staring down at my lap. The spot where Jamie had kissed my neck still burned like a brand, and my waist still tingled with the now-absent pressure of his hands. My mind could remember it, though, in vivid and perfect detail.
The things I do for you, Daisy Carmichael.
At that exact moment, Jamie lifted his gaze in the rearview mirror, his eyes latching onto mine.
I jerked my head out of view, pressing a hand to my flaming cheeks.
Jamie eased into their driveway, parked the car, and cut the engine. For a moment, the three of us just sat still, both Jamie and I waiting for Nellie to make the first move. Actually, in fact, I’d let the twins take this one. With theirtelepathy, surely they’d understand each other far better if I just butted out.
Except Nellie twisted in her seat, planting an elbow on the console between the front seats. “Explain,” she ordered me.
“Me?”
“Yes,you.” Nellie raised an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t like Jamie.”
“I don’t! Not—not like that!”
“And yet, what I saw was exactlylike that! With your head back and your eyes closed?—”
I slammed my hands over my ears. “Oh my God, stop,stop?—”
“—and Jamie’shandson yourhips, and hismouthon your?—”
“Nellie, please, juststop?—”
“Exactly!” she shouted, and then whirled back to face her brother. “How long have you two been doingthatbehind my back? How long have you two been secretly—oh my gosh.” She suddenly groaned. “I’m going to be sick.”
Jamie’s hands were still on the steering wheel, fingers hooked around it loosely. His knuckles were not white, and his shoulders were not tense. In a steady voice, he told Nellie, “It wasn’t real.”
