Page 56 of Falling

“Just you,” I say, smiling.

She flips me off before turning back to the crowd. “Okay, that woman over there with the pixie cut definitely has twins. I can just tell from the lines on her face. They give her hell, but she loves them. She has an older son, though, who looks like Schmidt fromNew Girl, and he is for sure robbing her without her knowing. But she'd let him get away with it. Freud and all that.”

“How am I supposed to beat that?” I ask, gaping at her. She smiles smugly. I scan the room for somebody, and then my eyes connect with the creep who has been staring at her all night. “That guy, our age, he's obsessed with you.”

“What?” Wren chokes out.

“I’m being serious. He's been eye fucking you all night.”

“Now you're really not understanding the game,” she mutters, shaking her head.

“I'm telling the truth,” I argue, turning to her. Her green eyes narrow at me. “He can tell we’re together, and he’s not stopped looking at you. It's like he's begging me to strangle him.”

“Jealousy looks good on you, Davis,” she murmurs before she turns away from me, leaving us in another round of silence.

Wren’s dadarrives a little later, and it's clear that she adores him.

“Dad!” Wren shouts, pulling my attention away from the pile of pistachio dust we’ve created. She jumps out of her seat, and he pulls her into a hug. He’s wearing a dark-blue suit and white shirt, and he’s not that much taller than me when I stand too. When she pulls out the hug, she turns to me with the biggest smile I’ve seen on her face. “This is Miles Davis. My boyfriend.”

Boyfriend.

I don’t fight the smile that splits across my face, filled with pride. Being called Wren’s boyfriend, fake or not, might be the peak of my existence. I stretch out my hand for him to shake it, but he pulls me into a tight hug instead.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Berger,” I muffle. He presses me into him further, and my face is squished against his chest.I widen my eyes, looking at Wren for help, but she just laughs.

“The pleasure is all mine, son.” He pats me on the back hard when we pull apart. “My last name sounds stupid, doesn’t it? No wonder her mom didn’t want anything to do with it.”

“Dad,” Wren scolds, and he just laughs, shaking his head. I wonder what is up with everyone in this family changing their names. Wren stands at his side, with a smile, giving me a double thumbs-up and a wink. That went a lot smoother than I thought it would.

He sits down across from us, his deep-brown eyes flickering between the two of us as Wren moves her chair closer to mine, our arms brushing, and our thighs pressed together. There’s something so comforting about her contact, about the way she naturally gets closer to me.

“So, what do you do at NU, Miles?” he asks, folding and unfolding his hands at the table. I’m doing the same because I have no idea what to do with them.

“I play hockey. I’m benched for most of the season, but I’m getting back out there soon,” I reply with a shrug. Wren’s hand covers mine, and the tension slowly eases its way out of my body.

“That’s good to hear. I used to play back in my day, but I wasn’t any good,” he replies with a vague waft of his hand in the air.

“I’ve seen the videos, Dad. You were insanely good,” Wren challenges.

“Ah, I guess so,” he replies, shrugging shyly. “How are you finding your second year at NU? The sports department is apparently one of the best in the country, so Wren tells me.”

“It's going really well. It's better than the first year, but the classes are getting harder,” I admit. If I could play hockey all day, I would. Having to go to classes and pretend like I know what they’re talking about sucks.

Wren's dad nods. “This one over here thinks her classes are too easy.” He nods over to Wren, and she rolls her eyes. He turns back to me and smiles. He’s got one of those genuine smiles. Not ones you give to people when you’d rather not talk to them. It’s nice and comforting, and I wish my dad would have smiled at me like that. “Hey, would you fancy having a few rounds on the ice sometime? You can help me get back into shape, I’m sure.”

“Yeah, that would be cool,” I say, trying to hide both my discomfort and my excitement.

“Just let me know when you’re available,” he says, and I nod.

When her dad is gone to talk to more people, I start to notice how comfortable she is around him in this environment. She doesn’t tense or freeze up when she’s talking to him. She talks animatedly with her hands, expressing her excitement in a childlike way. I fucking love this look on her.

She doesn’t need to be anyone other than Wren. Not Wren the Future Olympian. Just her. The person I can see myself liking more and more each day. The person whose whole face lights up like sunlight as she talks about the things she loves with her dad.

When she leaves to go to the bathroom while I get us drinks from the bar, her dad stands beside me. He studies me for a minute, and I clear my throat, doing my best to seem okay with his kind of attention.

“Are you making her happy?” he asks, his eyes narrowing.

I nod. “I'm trying to.”

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