Page 73 of Patrick

Clamping down on the churning in my gut before it strangles me, I evade her point, shut it down in my head. “Daniel is cool. I talked to him.” I pause a beat. “He said he likes you.”

“He does?”

“Not as much as I do.”

She smiles, and I watch a myriad of emotions swirl in her eyes as she stares. I know she’s deciding whether to let me off the hook, whether to let me avoid the subject of lying to our families.

She shakes her head. “So you say. Prove how much you like me.”

My mouth clamps down on hers faster than I can think, my animal instincts taking over my communications. But I make it a quick kiss, needing to return to the firm ground of teasing. “Hmm. I wonder how I could do that? Let’s see… How about if I give you more orgasms? Would that prove it?”

She chuckles, rolling her eyes. “I think you’ve already given me as many orgasms as I can handle.”

“You think I did?”

She laughs as I slide my hand under her towel. “Stop before you hurt yourself. Or one of us. I don’t want to pass out from an overdose.”

“An overdose of sex?”

“An overdose of you.” She pushes herself up on an elbow. “Besides, I thought you were going to tutor me in Stats.”

“That was a ploy.”

She laughs. “I’m serious. I need straight As or my parents will think there’s something wrong with me.”

“Shit. How could they ever think that?” I know they never would.

“You know what I mean. They would worry because it’s not like me to get less than an A.”

“You never got even a B?”

She shrugs as she gets out of bed and starts getting dressed. “Maybe once or twice, here and there. But it’s not my norm.”

“I don’t know how I feel about that.” I’m serious in a suddenly feeling inadequate way.

“Don’t worry. I won’t hold it against you if your norm is not straight As.”

“That’s a relief. Guess Pammy’s not the only brainy girl I…” I don’t know how to finish that statement. I can’t say brainy girl I’m seeing because it’s not like that.

“I know what you mean. She’s not your only brainy girlfriend.” Fifi heaves a big sigh. Then she picks up my sweats and tosses them at me.

I duck. “You mean fake girlfriend.”

When Darcy walks in the front door, Fifi and I are on the couch studying together in the living room. We exchange hellos, and the next thing Darcy does is slip her phone from her pocket and take a pic of us.

“You two are very cute together,” she says like she has no choice. She’s not convincing.

“Send me the pic,” Fifi says. I’m surprised she’s okay with it after her earlier paranoia about us being seen together, but this is her roommate, so I guess Fifi trusts her.

Me? There’s something about Darcy that sends my crazy-chic-meter veering into the warning zone.

“Definitely. Just sent it.” Darcy gives Fifi one of those smiles that borders on a grimace, but that could be my resentment of her intruding on our private time shading my impression.

“What are you up to the rest of the day?” Darcy asks, looking back and forth between us. She doesn’t sit and join us.

“I’m heading to the rink for practice.”

Fifi smiles. “I’m working on our design project. It’s so cool that we’re going to model them at the Winter Snow Ball.”