Page 23 of Faking It with My Bossy Ex

“Easy there,” I murmur, holding on a moment longer than I should. “Trying to fall into my arms already?”

She glares up at me, her cheeks pink from either the cold or something more. I'm not sure which option I'm hoping for.

“Everyone is going to think we’re engaged now! It’s bad enough lying about being a couple.” Amy shakes her head, then kneels and slips the other snowshoe on like an expert. She always was a fast learner. Trusting me is no exception. She’s made her mind up that it’s a bad idea.

“Ready to go? Do you want me to check the buckles?” I tease.

“No, I’ve got it. Thank you.” She sets out toward the trail that leads to town. These paths used to be ours. We'd race through here laughing, acting like we owned these woods. The memories hit hard, but I keep them locked away.

No point bringing up the past when I'm the one who burned it down.

“So, are you insisting on finding somewhere else to stay the night?”

“Yes.” She doesn’t elaborate.

“And if you can’t?”

“Then I guess we’re stuck with making the best of this little charade.” She motions between the two of us. I laugh.

“As you wish.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Impossibly brilliant?”

“No. Impossibly frustrating,” she mutters, but her cheeks betray her, warming with a blush.

Something in my chest tightens, and suddenly I'm eighteen again, watching her blush for the first time and knowing I'd spend my life trying to see it again.

And now, it’s my mission to see that blush paint Amy's cheeks.

***

My shoulders ache. One glance at Amy tells me she’s feeling it too, rubbing her neck and sighing under her breath. We’ve been at this for six hours straight. If this keeps up, we’re both going to need a back brace by the end of the week.

I’ve created a simple program on the computer to manage the basic information, and Amy is making printouts for the schedule now.

I cross the room and stop right behind her. Her shoulders tense, and I could almost bet she’s holding her breath, sensing me this close.

“How’s it going?” I ask, leaning in just enough to catch that familiar scent. She smells so good and it takes everything in me not to move even closer.

“What are you doing?” She asks, turning her face ever so slightly. She can’t turn her head too far, or she’d essentially be kissing me on the cheek.

“Just taking a look at your design. My eyesight isn't what it used to be.”

“I’m going to have to see a doctor’s note to confirm that,” her expression fills with doubt.

“It will be printed and on your desk first thing in the morning.” I reach out and tap the screen. “I think this is a typo.”

“Oh, you’re right.” I make her nervous. It’s apparent in the way her hand fidgets ever so slightly. Pulling back, I give her some space as I continue to read the schedule, but I miss the closeness. I miss us.

Just as the silence settles between us, the door flies open, and in comes Megan, full of energy and color, one of Amy's old college friends.

“Amy! Dylan! You’re back in Snowfall Springs, andtogether!” She rushes forward, hugging Amy and shaking my hand vigorously. “I never thought it would happen, especially after, well, you know, the breakup.”

I glance at Amy. She’s gone, so still, she might as well be a statue.

“Then after the whole Europe thing, you swore off men, but look at you now!” Megan jumps up and down, literally.

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