Page 38 of Faking It For Real

"Until the kiss," he pointed out, then immediately looked like he regretted mentioning it.

"Right," I nodded, feeling heat rise to my cheeks despite the cold air. "That was... convincing."

"Sorry if it was too much," he said, looking genuinely concerned. "I should have warned you or something."

"It's fine," I assured him. "It's what we agreed to, right? Physical displays when necessary for convincingness."

"Convincingness," he repeated with a small smile. "Still not sure that's a real word."

"English is flexible," I shrugged, returning his smile.

We reached my building's entrance, stopping at the bottom of the steps. Here was another moment of potential awkwardness—the end-of-date goodbye. Should there be another kiss? A hug? A casual wave?

"Well," I said, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. "Thanks for the caramel apple. And the trophy." I held up the ridiculous spray-painted apple.

"Anytime," he replied. "We make a surprisingly good apple-bobbing team."

"We do," I agreed. "Who knew?"

Another silence fell, heavier this time.

"I should go up," I finally said. "Early class tomorrow."

"Right," he nodded. "Me too. Early practice."

Neither of us moved.

"Ethan," I began, not sure what I was going to say.

"Mia," he said at the same time.

We both laughed, breaking some of the tension.

"You first," he offered.

"I was just going to say... this was nice," I admitted. "Not nearly as awkward as I expected."

"Agreed," he said, looking relieved. "We might actually pull this off."

"We just might," I nodded. Then, before I could overthink it, I stood on tiptoe and brushed a quick kiss against his cheek. "Goodnight, Ethan."

I turned and hurried up the steps before he could respond, swiping my key card with slightly shaky hands. When I glanced back from the doorway, he was still standing there, one hand lifted to his cheek, looking slightly dazed.

I waved once, then slipped inside, letting the door close behind me. In the elevator, I leaned against the wall, trying to steady my breathing. It was the performance affecting me, I told myself. The adrenaline of pulling off our first public appearance. Nothing more.

The elevator doors opened to reveal Olivia standing directly in front of them, arms crossed, expression determined.

"Spill," she demanded, physically blocking my path to our apartment door. "Every detail. Now."

"Hello to you too," I said, attempting to sidestep her. "It's been a long day, and I—"

"Nope," she interrupted, holding up my slightly smeared lipstick like a detective presenting evidence. "This says otherwise." She dramatically shined her phone flashlight in my eyes. "Where were you on the evening of November 12th, and was making out with Hockey Captain Ethan part of the itinerary?"

"We didn't make out," I protested. "It was one kiss. For show."

"Uh-huh," Olivia nodded skeptically. "And was there lens flare during this 'show' kiss? Spill the aperture details."

I couldn't help laughing at her ridiculous photography puns. "You're impossible."

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