AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But it’s hard to relish inthismoment when she’s still so unnaturally, un-Parker-ly quiet. “What’s going on in that head of yours? Your thoughts are almost as loud as the computer in your office.”
She huffs out a laugh, shaking her head. Then goes quiet again. “I had a good time tonight,” she says finally.
“Are you letting me down easy, Pete? Because that sounds like the start of the end of every bad date ever.”
She grins—a real one this time. “No! I really mean it.”
“Good. Because if you’re done with me after one night, that would make me a pretty terrible fake boyfriend.”
Her smile falters. I want to punch myself in the face. Why did I sayfake?
Because I’m a coward who hasn’t decided what I want. Because I’ve never felt about a woman the way I feel about Parker.
Even after one fake date, I know. This is something different. She’s different. And maybe I’m starting to want something I’ve never wanted. Something I never thought I’d have.
“You are the very best fake boyfriend I’ve ever had,” she says softly.
I squeeze her fingers, letting my thumb skim over the back of her hand. “And exactly how many fake boyfriends have you had?”
“None.” Then her eyes go wide. “That’s not true! I had a fake boyfriend at camp once!”
I grin. “You did not.”
“I did! I went to this great sports camp near Asheville. Hiking, canoeing, horseback riding—all that stuff. The guy’s name was John. This other guy wouldn’t stop trying to ask me to go out with him—”
“Where exactly does one ‘go out’ at camp?”
Parker waves a hand. “Nowhere. It’s an expression. Though some people did ‘go out’ down by the creek—aka, kissing and … stuff. Anyway, the point is—John offered to be my fake boyfriend so the other guy would leave me alone. He sold the idea like he would be my bodyguard of sorts. Very convincing.”
I’ll bet he was. “And how’d that work out for you?”
“The other guy stopped bugging me. And John confessed hisrealfeelings for me at the very end of camp.” She bites her lip and then smiles. “We wrote letters for almost a year before we fell out of touch.”
I can’t help but ask the question burning in my mind like an Olympic torch. More like, makingmeburn with jealousy at the thought of Parker with some guy—which is stupid considering we’re talking about the distant past.
This does not seem to matter to my irrational jealousy, which is crackling and roaring.
“Did you and John ever ‘go out’ down by the creek?” I demand, feeling stupid even as I ask. Parker already told me she hadn’t kissed anyone. And even if she did—this ismiddle school.
Still. I find myself clenching my teeth until she answers.
She shakes her head, and even in the dark, I can see the blush climbing her cheeks. “Nope. But we did hold hands.”
“Like this?” I lift our joined hands.
She gives me a look. “I’m not sure of any other way to do it.”
Clucking my tongue, I say “Oh, Pete. You think this is the only way to hold hands?”
“There are more?” she asks.
I tug her to a stop in a pool of shadows under the General Store’s awnings. Then I unlink our fingers and then press our palms together, hooking all my fingers around her hand. “For starters, this is called the Palm Curl.”
She giggles, the sound tiptoeing through my chest. “You’re making that up.”
I am. And clearly, I’m not doing a very good job.
“No, for real.” I readjust so our hands are pressed up against each other, flat with fingers straight like we’re holding a high-five. “This one is the Mirror or the High Five Hold.”
