Page 147 of Fake Game

“Mm.” I walk over to his bedside and plug my phone in. “About as much of it as I could make out in English.”

Jackson sighs, sitting on his bed.

I plop down next to him, resting my head against his shoulder. “What’s going on?”

“Angela has an audition for one of the summer music camps this weekend, and my parents wanted to see if we were free for dinner while they’re up here.”

“Oh. That’s sweet of them.”

“They have reservations at The Bay. You know how busy that place can be.”

True. It is the best seafood restaurant in town. A lot of big names dine there, so it is never short on customers. Not only that, but it would mean being in a place where I have no control. Any of the servers could be a potential danger, someone planted there to spike my drink again or something worse.

The premise sounds less and less nice the more I think about it.

But still…

“I don’t want to disappoint your parents.”

“It’s not disappointing them. They know you were in the hospital a few weeks ago.”

I let out a sigh. “Can you put me down as a maybe?”

“I can, but I don’t want you to force yourself. You did really well last night as it was.”

“About that…”This. This is the time to ask him.“Last night was a date? Like, adatedate, not a fake date.”

“Depends.”

“On?”

“On if the idea of it being a real date freaks you out?”

“Doesn’t freak me out.” I try to keep my voice neutral because I am freaking out—but in a good way. My hopes start to rise higher and higher.

“Then, yes. It was an actual date.”

The apples of my cheeks puff up as I grin.

“I take your smiling to mean that’s a good thing,” he teases.

“I guess.” I look away, biting my lips together to tamp down my excitement.

“And why’s that, Sparkles? You becoming attached to me?”

“Hey, you’re the one who called it a date. That makes you the attached one.”

“True. I was getting quite sick of the whole fake dating thing.”

My heart leaps. “Huh?”

“I’m saying, I’m quite attached to you. Nothing fake about that.” He tucks a stray piece of hair behind my ear, and his touch lingers, caressing my cheek. “You don’t exactly rent out a theater for someone you don’t like.”

“You like me?”

“I think I’ve liked you since that night we stayed up watchingDevil Nunand you made me carry you back to my room.”

His confession rocks me. “That was weeks ago while you were still refusing to even consider fake dating me.”

---