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Wants me.
Felix eyes me. “Then you’re dumber than you look, Barnes.”
“Probably.”
He chuckles, and I smile weakly back because I’ve felt unstable and off-balance all day. Maybe longer. Honestly, I think from the moment I first saw Parker across that conference room and realized who she was, it’s like she kicked me out of my normal orbit. Now I’m floating through deep space, trying to recalibrate.
“Think about what you want,” Felix says.
I am. Believe me, I am. But I need to know for sure that she wants me too. Forrealthis time.
“I don’t have the first clue what I’m doing,” I confess.
Felix nods, then shoots me a quick grin. “Well, don’t let that stop you from doingsomething.”
I don’t plan to.
CHAPTER21
Parker
“You’re an idiot,”my very best friend in the world says after I tell her how things went down with Logan a few nights ago. And how I’ve done my level best to see him as little as possible ever since.
Which takes some real feats of avoidance considering we live next door to each other and work together. It hasn’t worked completely, but at least I’ve so far been able to avoid the rules talk I’ve been dreading.
I have not been able to avoid the way Logan touches me every time he sees me, from the variety of hand holds (which I’m sure he made up), to hugs, to kisses on the cheek. Or forehead. Or hand. He keeps it professional-ish at work, but the whole Appies organization seems thrilled. Maybe because they think Logan dating me might keep him here longer?
If only they knew the whole purpose of us “dating” was to help him leave.
“And you’re not very nice.”
“I’m honest,” Mia says, speaking louder over the noise in the background. “There’s a difference. And honestly, you’re an idiot.”
“Where are you?” I ask, leaning back and enjoying the sheer ergonomic pleasure of Fancy Chair, which still hasn’t gotten old. If my car were big enough, I’d totally cart this thing home every night and then back in the morning.
“Dinner with Hazel,” Mia says. “Don’t change the subject. This is dumb. Just tell your fake boyfriend how you really feel.”
Like some kind of sign from the universe, the fake boyfriend in question happens to walk into my office right at this moment.
Correction: He doesn’t walkintomy office. Logan appears in the doorway like a gorgeous six-foot-two mirage, then stops and puts one arm up on the door frame,leaning.
Is there a prerequisite course guys must pass before they reach adulthood on how to lean sexily in a doorway? If so, Logan aced it. Top of class. Extra points for the way his biceps bunch while standing still.
“Gotta go, Mia.”
“I know that tone,” she says. “He’s there, isn’t he? You need to explain to that man exactly how you—”
“Tell Hazel hi. See ya!”
I hang up before Mia can finish whatever bossy thing she’s planning to say. Probably more of what she already said on our brief phone call. That I should have actually talked to Logan about what he wants before offering myself up as (fake) tribute. That I should tell Logan how I actually feel. And a few more similar things I don’t remember. I zoned out after the first few minutes of her lecture.
Because I have no intention of doing what Mia says. I’m firmly committed to my plan of keeping this relationship pretend and somehow convincing my feelings to hop on board the fake train.
The wordsfakeandpretendare like my turtle shell. I’m tucking my head, arms, legs—and, I guess in this analogy, tail—inside so I can be fully protected when Logan leaves. Because that’s the whole point of all this now, isn’t it—me helping him save his image so he can get back to playing real hockey somewhere other than Harvest Hollow?
“Logan,” I say, sounding a little too chipper. I wiggle my fingers in an exaggerated wave to seal the nope-I’m-not-normal deal. “Hi! You’re here!”
This is not that kind of poise and sexy confidence that makes a man want you. But he smiles at me anyway, slow and sweet and wide. Here’s the thing: Logan’s full smile is so rare it might as well be a Sasquatch—rumored to exist but with only rare, unconfirmed sightings.
