Page 86 of The Fake Out Flex

"Speed dial. Talking on the phone. This is all so '90s. Are you sure you're really twenty-five and not a freakishly young-looking forty-five-year-old man?"

"I may have the knees of a forty-five-year-old man, but I can assure you I am, indeed, twenty-five."

"Gosh…" I pick up a piece of fabric and twirl it between my fingers.

"Gonna need more than that, Evie. See, the thing about chat dates on the phone is that I can't see what your face is doing."

"My face is grinning. And the gosh was me remembering when you being two years older than me felt like this massive age gap. Now it's nothing."

"It's totally nothing."

"And I have to say, this whole fake-dating thing is going better than I thought it would."

"How so? Oh, and for the record, because you can't see me, I need to tell you that I'm lying on the bed in my hotel room."

"Not brave enough to venture onto the carpet?"

"No. There are…stains."

"I don't want to know."

He laughs. "Me neither."

I get up from my desk and lie down on my stain-free floor. "Well, for the record, because you can't see me, I need to tell you that I've moved from my desk and have joined you in the lying down thing. Although, I'm on my floor since, well, I was going to say my floor doesn't have stains, but that wouldn't be entirely true. But at least I know I'm the one responsible for all of them. Well, me and the food companies I use to make all my meals."

Fraser laughs again, and the rich, warm sound settles in my chest. I love being able to make him loosen up like this.

"So tell me why you're liking this fake dating thing more than you thought you would," he says.

"Well, my social media numbers have skyrocketed."

"And I know how obsessed you are about that."

I bring out the most Valley Girl voice I can. "It's, like, literally the most important thing ever."

I'm treated to another laugh.

"I'm loving how well the team is doing," I continue, a little more seriously now. "Plus, it's great to get flown out to see more games. But I still think nothing beats the atmosphere of a home crowd, if you ask me."

"I wholeheartedly agree with you on that one."

"The me being a good luck charm thing has worn off, which I'm very glad about. It was a weird pressure to have to bear."

"Also in full agreement with you on that."

I hesitate for a second. "But do you want to know what my absolute favorite thing is?"

"I do. Tell me."

"This."

"Define this, please. For all I know, you've looked under your couch and found a half-eaten pack of Oreos."

"Fraser! I would never"—I cast a quick glance under my couch. Nothing. Damn—"do that. What I mean by this is this. Hanging out with you privately. Actually, hanging out with you in public isn't that bad, either. But when we're alone it feels…it feels really nice."

"At the risk of repeating myself, I couldn't agree with you more."

Actually, it's more than nice, but I'm not ready to tell him that just yet.

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