Page 20 of The Dating Contract

“Right,” he said, grabbing for something. “But ending this is going to take us really close to the wedding, and if we’re doing Shabbat at the end, there’s going to be talk.”

There was a long pause and he could see the moment she capitulated. “Fine. Option to renew.”

A victory, small as it was, but he’d take it.

“Do we need anything else?”

He laughed. “I don’t know. I’ve never done this before.”

“Neither have I,” she said. “I mean…no. I’ve read about it, watched movies about it, all of which show the agreement failing because the two people who fake-date don’t know each other.”

This was interesting. “So you think this will succeed for us because…we do know each other?”

She nodded, sure of herself. “We know each other enough to know how much of a bad idea we are.”

We know each other enough.

Right.

He was going to have his work cut out for himself if his goal was to fix things. But as he tried to process the information she was giving him, all he said was “Okay. What about…physical contact?”

She blinked. “What do you mean?”

In that blink was a lot: anger, surprise. Shock. Did she think he was taking advantage of her? “I’m not getting that deep—don’t worry about it,” he said, trying to pull himself together.

“So explain yourself. Quickly.”

He nodded. “Right. Here’s the thing. We’re going to be in public, doing public things. Events with business contacts and with family who need to believe we’re doing this for real, right?”

The sword had been at least holstered, which was a good thing. “Okay?”

He continued. “We have to be clear about things between ourselves and vis-à-vis the outside world.”

“Keep talking. What do you mean?”

“Nobody is going to believe we’re doing this for real if you look at me as if you have an allergy to some specific part of my composition.”

“Not every couple that fake-dates discusses…touching.”

Did she study? Do research? Watch every single…piece of media that dealt with fake dating in some way? Did she read every book ever published that dealt with a dating agreement?

And then he remembered back to the earlier thread of their conversation. “You know we’re not like those couples.”

“How?”

Whether she hadn’t anticipated this part of the conversation or she’d forgotten she’d given him the tools to discuss it, he didn’t know. He forged ahead anyway. “We know each other. We have a history you don’t want to get into. Which means that we know each other well enough to talk consent, and other things so that you don’t act surprised when I touch you, or I glare at you when you touch me.”

“Okay,” she said. He was relieved; she was taking this seriously. Not treating it like some ridiculous attempt to get closer to her. The idea of making things clearer between them was his goal.

“So,” she said. “What do you mean?”

He started with the basics. “Hands touching are okay?”

He waited; he could explain more, but that had to be up to her.

“Yes. We can hold hands in public.”

He nodded, mentally going to the next places his hand would naturally want or be expected to go on her body if they were dating. “Put my arm around you, you put your arm around me?”

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