Page 97 of A Perfect Fit

“It’s dumb,” I say. “I thought maybe you’d changed your mind about what you said to me in Chicago.”

A beat passes before Jackson responds. “I wanted to give you space. I didn’t want to come across as too strong, but I definitely haven’t changed my mind about what I said or how I feel about you.”

I sigh. It really shows you shouldn’t automatically jump to conclusions like that. “That’s why I said it was dumb.”

“It’s not dumb at all. If there’s anything ever on your mind, I’m always here to talk.”

I sneak a glance at him as we walk through a sidewalk shed. His expression’s blank, and I can’t tell what he’s thinking, which bothers me.

“And thanks again for the marketing strategies you sent me,” I say. “They’ve been very helpful.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad they were.”

“Would you like to come to my fashion show?” I blurt out.

I want him there. Sitting in the audience. Celebrating the hopefully successful event with me.

Jackson’s eyes widen, and then the surprise on his face is replaced by something else. Joy, I realize, from the way his brown eyes are sparkling. “Are you kidding? I would’ve sold a kidney to get a front-row seat if I had to.”

A laugh trickles from my mouth. “No need to sacrifice any organs. Plenty of seats in the front row.”

He flashes me a grin, and we continue walking in silence for the next minute or so.

I take a deep breath, gripping the strap of my purse tighter. Just say it.

“One other thing. I got a text from my mom last night. She was asking whether you and I are free to come over next Friday night.”

“Let’s do it.” There’s no hint of hesitation in Jackson’s voice.

God, he’s so amazing.

“This will be the last time we go through a fake-dating scheme, I swear,” I say. “No more high school reunions or me lying to my family again.”

Another smile curves on Jackson’s lips, his dimples prominent. “Absolutely. No more fake dating after this.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

JACKSON

As soon as my computer clock shows five p.m., I log off and start packing up my things in the office.

Normally, I’m the last person to leave the office, but I’m finishing up early—or rather, on time—today for dinner with Isabelle and her family, where I’ll be playing Isabelle’s boyfriend again.

After packing up, I take my work briefcase and empty water glass with me to the kitchen, intending to place the glass inside the dishwasher.

Andrew’s sitting at one of the kitchen tables near the entrance, typing a text on his phone, a mug in front of him. He turns at the sound of my footsteps and places his phone face down on the table.

His gaze darts to my briefcase. “Finishing up for the day?”

“Yep,” I say. “Feel free to finish up soon, too. It’s Friday.”

“I will.” Andrew smiles and wraps his hands around his mug. “Great job on the pitch to Vanderwaal Industries yesterday. I heard it went well.”

“Thanks, Andrew.” I peer at his beverage, a mug of hot chocolate. “Not a fan of coffee?”

“No.” Andrew shakes his head and laughs, revealing wrinkles on his forehead. “Caffeine makes me lethargic.”

“That’s how I used to feel about coffee, too,” I admit. “Now, I can’t live without it.”