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“I’ve had them for a while.”
“You’re right. But Lucinda wanted us to look a certain way around people, so we spent a lot of time pretending we were fine.”
“You’re good at it—the pretending, I mean.”
“I hope it wasn’t too much.”
“It wasn’t. Just . . . new.”
“We’ll be learning all kinds of new things about each other on this trip.”
Like if he snored. Or had morning breath. Or if he woke up with a—
Nope. Not going there.
“You got quiet at dinner,” he said. “Did I do anything to cause that?”
“No,” she replied immediately. “It was so loud, and I felt . . . overwhelmed, but I know I need to be better.”
“Better at what?”
If it were Andrew, she’d say better at everything. “At being your fake girlfriend.”
“I think you’re doing fine.”
“We should be . . . closer. Like a serious couple would be.”
“Oh. You mean that.”
She glanced at his hands. Never in her life did she imagine she would be close enough to touch them. Now that she needed to, she was still in coworker mode.
“This is weird, isn’t it? Like, we’ve never touched before. Other than the hug, which was . . . nice.”
“Yes, it was.”
“But casually, I don’t know how to touch you. Or if you want to be touched.”
“If I were your boyfriend, what would you do?”
Her mouth went dry.
“I’d hold your hand, maybe.”
“Then we start there.” He offered her his open palm. For a second, she marveled over the plane of his skin, realizing how surreal all of this felt. For so long, Daniel was only a coworker. There was nothing else.
She slowly lifted her hand and slotted it into his.
It was a perfect fit, something so cruel to discover, considering that none of this was real. She looked back up at him, searching for any hints that he didn’t like it. But his eyes were on their hands.
“If it’s weird—” she began, but he cut her off.
“This is nice. Just like the hug was.”
She giggled, the sound so unusual out of her own mouth. But she couldn’t help it. She felt giddy, like a girl being taken to prom, simply from the feeling of his hand in hers.
“I think so too.”
Chapter Eight
