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“I promise you. I think the deadliest thing we’d find around here is swimming in the ocean.”
“I’m glad you didn’t say that yesterday when we were snorkeling.”
I can feel his chuckle more than I can hear it.
I flinch when I hear more rustling. “I don’t want to be eaten by a hog,” I say.
“We’re okay.”
“You say that, but you’ve got use of both your feet. You could run from whatever it is.”
“I would never abandon you.”
More rustling, more snorting.
“Oh my gosh,” I say, leaning into him, my head falling onto his shoulder as he pulls me closer. “This is how I ruin Nadia’s wedding—by dying. It’s the ultimate jinx move.”
“You’re not going to die.”
“I’ll never see my family again.”
“Shh,” he says.
“I’ll never get to go skydiving or see the pyramids. I’ll never get to grow old with someone.”
“Dave?” he says.
“Oh yeah,” I say. “I’ll never see Fake Dave’s face again.”
He stops rubbing my arm.
“What?” Grayson asks.
“What?” I echo, realizing what I’ve just said. Nadia warned me to stop calling him Fake Dave or I would slip up. I hate it when she’s right.
“Did you just call himFakeDave?”
“No,” I say. “You just heard me wrong.”
“What did I hear, then?”
I rack my brain trying to think of something that sounds like fake. Bake? Baked Dave? Could I play it off as a nickname for him because he’s high all the time?
“Mila?” Grayson asks.
I sit up, pulling my head away from his shoulder, making a grumbling noise at the back of my throat because I’m such an idiot. “Dave is … not real,” I finally say.
“What do you mean?”
“There is no Dave. I made him up.”
It’s dark, but there’s enough light from the moon that I can make out the furrow in his brow.
“There’s a picture on your desk.”
“Photoshopped.”
Grayson sputters. “Why would you make him up?”
