Page 48 of The Fake Date Deal

“Turning off your alarm. No, don’t get up.”

I fell back, a hollow laugh caught in my throat. It was this type of shit that had my head spinning, gestures like this that screamed out I care. Then she’d turn around and make plans to leave me. I’d heard of mixed signals, but this was next level.

I cleared my throat. “Eve?”

She set my phone aside. “Yes?”

I lay for a moment, saying nothing at all. Then I shook my head. “Never mind. Nothing.”

Eve glided out and I lay by myself. I lay awake a long time pretending to sleep, not wanting to talk to her if she chanced to look in. What was happening here was a nerd-prom situation, but the joke wasn’t on me. It was on Rafael. He was the nerd here, the butt of the joke. I was the hot guy from some other movie, the kind where the single girl needs a fake date. The trick was remembering the key word was fake.

I sat up, feeling foolish. Fake, yeah, of course we were, but we were still fun. And we still had two weeks till our sell-by date. I got out of bed and went out to the lounge, and found Eve curled up reading on the settee. She smiled when she saw me and set her book down.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

“Dreaming of you.” I took her hand and pulled her into my arms. She beamed at me, moon-kissed, and I felt my pulse race.

Yeah, just a few more days of this, then we wouldn’t have to pretend anymore. How lucky was I?

CHAPTER 19

EVE

Marco’s Barcelona race got rained out, pushed back two days while the track dried out. He said he was used to that sort of thing happening, but I could see he was tense with his schedule off-whack.

“We should go out,” I said. “Get your mind off it.”

He didn’t seem to hear me, gazing out at the rain. It fell in gray curtains, scouring the streets. When I leaned up against him, I felt him shiver.

“This place makes me nervous,” he said with a sigh.

“Because Rafael’s here?”

“Rafael who?” He tipped me a wink, but he seemed distracted. “It always rains when I come here. Every damn time. My first race here got rained out three times. Some kind of record rain, a year’s worth in a month.”

“It won’t do that this time.”

“It better not.” Marco scowled at the sky. “I’ve got other races. I can’t wait around here.”

I could feel his mood blackening, his patience worn thin. I rose up on tiptoe to kiss the back of his neck. “What do you usually do when your race gets rained out?”

He leaned back against me. “Depends on the city. But here… Never mind.”

I perked up, sensing a story. “No, tell me. Here, what?”

Marco shook his head. I kissed my way up his neck. He chuckled, a low sound deep in his chest.

“You can’t tease it out of me.”

I nipped his ear. “Can’t I?”

“Maybe you can.” He turned to face me, a smile breaking through. “Would you laugh if I told you I’m superstitious?”

I laughed, not at that, but at the idea I would laugh. That I’d be surprised, knowing him as I did. “You have your whole ritual before every race. You think it’s bad luck to leave your hat on the bed. I’ve seen you in restaurants, throwing salt on the floor.”

“Over my shoulder, not on the floor.”

“What else is back there, besides the floor?”

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