Page 48 of Can’t Say No

And those two things don’t add up to forever.

That realization pulls me into a sour mood and I can feel myself scowling as I mass-produce waffles for the students. Pretty sure I saw Abby jump when I handed over her plate a little too forcefully.

Once we washed the last of the dishes, it’s pushing midnight and my melancholy mood has turned into a living thing I can’t seem to rein in. Delaney has made expert work of sidestepping its clutches all night but the look in her eyes tells me she’s about to fight it head-on.

“Connor, can you put these dishes up? I can’t reach that shelf.”

I take the stack of plates from Delaney wordlessly. I huff and puff more than necessary to get the final dish back in its place. Turning quickly to take my sorry ass up to the sleeping loft, and hopefully evade the questions I know Delaney has locked and loaded, I almost make it before she takes aim and fires.

She crosses her arms and leans back against the kitchen island. “Ready to talk about it?”

I quirk an eyebrow at her, a silent question.

She doesn’t back down. “Don’t make that face at me. You’ve been stomping around all evening. Not living up to your favorite teacher status.”

That brings a hint of a smile to my lips. “The kids said I’m their favorite?”

Delaney laughs and I want to remember that breezy sound forever. “Don’t try to change the subject, Mr. Majors. Tell me what’s wrong.”

I let out a long sigh.

Tell her that I’ve loved her since we were kids and fake dating her is killing me when I see a whole future she’d never entertain?

No, no, I’m not telling her that.

“Delaney, I’m just worn out. Long day.” I attempt to head upstairs again, but she steps into my path.

Looking up at me with big doe eyes, Delaney says, “Huh, that’s funny. I would’ve thought you had better stamina than that.” Her eyes flash, all innocence blinking away. The little smirk that plays on her full lips tells me she knows exactly what she’s doing.

I close my eyes with a silent prayer. “Don’t question my stamina.” I manage to get out through gritted teeth.

My eyes pop open when a finger pokes me in the chest. “I’m questioning it until proven otherwise.” There’s mischief in her voice and a hint of something that sounds real close to desire.

In one motion, I grab her hand from my chest and pin it behind her back, pulling her in close to me. “Baby, you just tell me when you’re ready, and I’ll prove whatever you want.”

We’re so close I can feel her chest rising and falling against mine, so close she can definitely feel my proof hardening against her. The smallest of movements would eat up the remaining space between us and then her lips would be on mine again.

“Connor,” Delaney whispers, snaking her free hand lightly up my chest and curling it around the back of my neck. I study her face. In this moment, it looks more like the face that has haunted my dreams since we were teenagers and less like the one on every tabloid cover. Free of makeup, her features look delicate and inviting. I sweep my thumb over her cheek and weave my hand into her hair. God, she’s beautiful.

I lean in, wound up so tight I’m about to snap. Lips hovering by her ear, I manage to get out, “Lanie, I’ve got about three seconds of self control left. You either need to walk away or let me kiss you again.”

Her grip on my neck tightens and for a split second, I’m flooded with hope. She’s gonna stay.

But then her gaze drops to her feet and she pulls away. “I’ll sleep on the floor tonight.”

All hope is replaced by the familiar pit in my stomach that’s brought on by watching her leave. Again.

18

DELANEY

Ishould have kissed him. But I know once that line is crossed, once I give in to the unmistakable pull between us, there’s no taking it back. And I’m too damn scared to see what’s on the other side of that invisible barrier.

This in-between place is far from safe, but at least I can pretend my feelings aren’t real. The guise of a PR relationship provides a sliver of protection, and I plan on clinging to that sliver as long as possible.

Curling against the futon on the floor, I try to still my racing heart. It’s the damn sincerity in his eyes, I decide, that has my feelings all twisted up. Connor really could have a thriving acting career. He’s just so good at pretending.

Pretending. That’s all this is. Fake. He’s faking it.