Page 24 of A Match Made in Error

“That makes me nervous,” I admit. The last thing we need is the Moirai observing us under a close eye. It’ll be hard enough to slip faking it past them without Riven making a spectacle of himself. Don’t get me wrong, I usually love his antics, but not when seven years of bad luck in love are on the line.

“I make you nervous? Good. You make me insane.” I sharply exhale, a laugh lingering behind my exhaustion. He’s sitting there, legs sprawled and face amused, and I can’t help the smile that pulls at my lips.

I know I’m letting the stress get to me.

Logically, I know that Riven would never do anything to hurt me. He’s my best friend. I can trust him.

“Tell me what I did to deserve that smile. I’d like to do it again.” Always the shameless flirt. I don’t think he can help it, honestly.

“I suppose I can get behind minor chaos, as long as I’m not at the receiving end of any pranks.”

“Deal!” He snaps and points at me. “You’re never my target, always my partner-in-crime.”

“Tell that to my singed eyebrows from when I first started working at the bar.”

“I told you! I thought Don was going to close the register that night.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Clothes finally away, I kick off my shoes and snap, instantly twisting my hair into protective braids and donning my comfiest pajamas.

Under the light of the risen moons, the room feels less intimidating, and sliding into bed feels like accepting a warm hug after a long day. “We should get massages one day. I heard someone talking about a spa during the welcome speech.”

“I can massage you. I’ve been told my hands are magical,” Riven replies, wiggling his fingers at me. I shiver, though not from his comment, but from the chilled ocean air blowing through the gaping hole of a patio off our bungalow. I’m sure it's warded to keep creatures and other living beings out, but it cannot stop the elements. “Poppy, was that a shiver? Did that do something for you? I can keep going.” I can practically hear his eyebrows twitching.

“No, dumbass, I’m cold.” I tuck my legs under the comforter, unable to get fully under with Riven’s body on top of them on the other side of the bed.

“Oh, you’re cold? Come over here then.” He opens his arms wide, waiting for my body to nestle between them. “Consider body heat sharing part of the fake dating package.”

“I’m fine, Riven. It was just a little shiver. I’m not hypothermic.”

“You’re just really far away.” Is he pouting?

“I’m exactly on my half.” I snap my fingers and the lanterns dim lower than the light of a single firefly.

“If you keep rejecting me, I’m going to start to think that you don’t want to be fake in love with me.” I hear him sharply cross his arms over his chest.

“Well, that’s good, because I don’t.” My words are soft, half drenched in my exhaustion. “We just need to make it through this month, and then things can go back to normal.”

“Right, right…” I feel the words he’s not saying. Not what they are, but just the sense that he definitely wants to keep talking. “What if your half of the bed migrated closer to mine? For warmth and safety and scientific research.”

“Scientific research?” I snort.

“Yeah, I need to study how you sleep. For the fake relationship. What if the Moirai ask how many drops of drool you lose every night—I will look like a faking fool if I can’t answer.”

This time, I do actually laugh, which is likely his goal. “They’re never going to ask that.”

A long pause and then, “Just scoot over here.” His voice is soft. Does he actually want to cuddle? I rack my brain to think how long Riven usually went without someone warming his bed…the answer is: not that long. Is he…lonely? Touch-starved? Being driven mad by the romance in the island air?

I don’t move, or respond, and then he stops pushing.

He exhales like he’s steadying himself and rolls away, settling deeper into the bed. My eyes adjust to the darkness just in time to see his hand flex against the sheets.

Of course, he doesn’t want to cuddle. He just doesn’t know when to let a joke die.

I curl the comforter under my chin. “Good night, Riven.”

His hand finds my shoulder in the dark, giving it a quick but reassuring squeeze. “Night, Pop.”

Hours later…he’s a furnace curled around me. I wait, sweat collecting on my lower back where he’s pulled me tight against him, and I’m suddenly thankful for the sea breeze on my face.