Page 134 of Fake it ’Til Fall

“Don’t encourage her,” I tell him.

“He’s the only one thinking clearly.”

“He tried to steal a donut earlier today.”

“Still a better decision-maker than either of us right now.”

I almost smile.

Almost.

Daisy catches it.

She always does.

Her expression changes by a fraction. Less panic. More warmth. The room loosens its grip.

Then her gaze drops to my mouth.

Just for a second.

Not enough to be anything.

Enough to be everything.

I look away first.

There are rules. Ten of them, which are written in ink. They’re reasonable, ridiculous, carefully written rules made by two people who should have known better than to trust themselves with a fake relationship and one real room.

“No floor,” I say.

Daisy blinks. “You’re still on that?”

“Yes.”

“I appreciate your commitment to the argument. Very masculine. Very upsetting for the pacing.”

“You take the bed.”

“And you?”

“I’ll take the chair.”

She turns toward the old wooden chair at the desk. One leg is shorter than the others. The seat has a cushion so thin it looks decorative at best and punitive at worst.

“That chair was built during a time when people believed discomfort improved character.”

“I have enough character.”

“You have a reputation. Different category.”

“Bed, Daisy.”

“You take the bed, Forrest Wolfcraft.”

Puck sighs again, deeper this time, as if our fake relationship has already exhausted him.

Daisy points at him. “See? Even Puck thinks we’re being immature.”