Page 134 of Fake Game

With some strength in my legs now, I stand a little more confidently and undo the deadbolt on my door before opening it.

“Hi.”

Jackson looks me up and down with a frown. “Is that a pink taser?”

“Yes.”

“Cute and dangerous, just like you.”

I roll my eyes but smile, stepping back to let him in. He places a kiss on my forehead, and I feel something press in just below my chest. My grin widens when I see a new Tupperware container in his hands.

“More room service?”

I am getting a little spoiled. Jackson has been over every other day the last two weeks with a new sweet treat. Part of me has been tempted to ask if he would bake in my apartment so it could smell like fresh brownies instead of me just burning artificial candles to fill the hole.

“Strawberry cheesecake blondies.” He places the glass container on my counter before taking a seat on my couch. He picks up the empty brookie container off the floor by my coffee table. “Please don’t tell me that my baking is all you’ve been eating?”

“Fine. I won’t.”

“Deer.”

“I haven’t been that hungry.” I bend down to pick up the spillage from my purse, shoving it all back inside before setting the bag on the counter. And because I actually haven’t been eating anything but his baking, I open the new container and pull out one of the blondies. I really should ask Rick to restock my fridge, but I don’t have the energy to cook anyway.

“You haven’t left the apartment since we got back. You even had Lee move Crime Night to your place.”

“So?” I take a bite of the blondie and—oh my Gods, how is it so good? I moan around the bite. It tastes like heaven. Well, if heaven was filled with strawberry clouds and vanilla bean rivers.

“Don’t try to distract me with that moaning of yours.”

“It wasn’t on purpose but,” I grin, “if it works.”

He grabs me by the waist and pulls me down so I’m seated across his lap.

Our relationship is…weird. Part of me feels like I should bring it up because we’re currently living in this gray area that is getting murkier with each passing day. With everything going on, I’m sure playing this game with my heart isn’t the smartest idea—but I’m more worried that I’ll lose him, and I can’t afford that. Jackson is my sanity; if he leaves me, I will fall right back into the dark smoke that curls around me and threatens to swallow me whole. I need my lighthouse to see clearly, to know that there are no monsters.

“So, I wanted to ask you something in person because I thought you might shut me down if I just texted it.”

I still around my next bite of blondie.

There’s no way he can read my mind…can he?

“Okay.”

“You know how the new, unrated director’s cut ofDevil Nun 5just came out in theaters?”

“Yeah, you sent me a link.”

“I was wondering if you’d come with me to the movies this afternoon?”

“You mean like a movie theater.”

Suddenly, the blondie doesn’t seem so appetizing. No, that’s a lie. It still looks great. It’s just that the idea of taking another bite conflicts with the way my stomach is now collapsing in on itself.

“Yeah, the one on Roland Street by the ice cream place.”

“Oh.”

No. That sounds awful. Movie theaters mean people. Lots of people. Random people. And while Dr. Ainsley says that I need to start trying small things—like even a walk around the block—I’m not that keen. I’d figured they’d all be happy enough that I’m not hibernating in my bed twenty-four seven, but apparently the bare minimum isn’t appeasing them.

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