Page 38 of The Match Faker

“Why do you feel like you have to be perfect?” I ask.

Huffing, Jasmine puts The Binder back into her bag. She picks a muffin from the lunch bag and pulls at the wrapper but doesn’t eat it. Instead, she stares at the baked good like it has all the answers.

“I think we’ve gotten to know each other enough for now,” she says. With that, she turns again and watches the scenery pass by her window.

Fuck. I wish I had a cheeseburger right now.

11

JASMINE

Between the hip-high snowbanks and the grayish-brown slush, the dead of winter can make even Canadian cottage country look dull. Though Nick’s hometown manages to keep some of its shine with century-old façades on the storefronts down the main street and hand-painted signs even on the nationwide chain restaurant.

He drives slower than the speed limit, but I doubt it’s for my benefit. He’s gotten surlier since we got off the highway, and fidgety. He keeps scrubbing at his chest. Either he’s anxious or his T-shirt—which I discovered is a Taylor Swift Reputation tour tee when I stole furtive glances at him through the windows when we stopped to get gas—is itchy.

When we stop at a light, I pull out my phone.

Me: Arriving in Muskoka.

Jade: fire

Me: What are you doing?

Jade: I’ll tell you what I’m not doing…

Jade: I’m not avoiding conversation with my fake boyfriend.

Me: I’m just checking in!

Jade: I’ll be fine.

Me: <3

Jade: do me a favor ok?

Me: Ok…

She’ll either askme to buy her something like I’m our dad bringing gifts for his new family after a business trip, or she’ll tell me to do something physically impossible. Like “unclench.”

Jade: since Nick is technically your boyfriend for the next however many days can you PLEASE at the very least let that man dick you down??????

I make a strangled sound and half-drop, half-toss my phone back into the open bag.

“What’s wrong?” Nick doesn’t look at me, but there’s genuine concern in his voice.

Mentally, I shake myself. I breathe deeply, willing the heat in my cheeks to dissipate. I need to get back in the right mindset and that does not include Nick’s dick. We’ve tried that already. It ended poorly.

Except now I can’t get the image of him kneeling at my feet and gripping himself through his boxer briefs telling me he’s hard for me out of my head.

“Jazz. Are you experiencing a medical emergency?”

“No.” The single word escapes me far too quickly. My pulse beats at my throat so hard that I’m sure if Nick didn’t have to focus on the road, he’d see. I’m hot. And honestly, a little dizzy. And oh my god I’m wet. The thought of Nick touching himself has made me wet. This has never happened before. I didn’t think it was even possible to be this aroused by a thought, a memory.

“Jasmine?” The car slows, and a click-click-click sound pulls me back to the present. Nick is side-eyeing me, his hand still on the indicator as if he’s actually preparing to pull over.

Pull. Yourself. Together.

If I could slap myself in the face without making him consider a forty-eight-hour hold, I would.

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