Page 61 of Fumbled Into Love

“Rules! We need rules!” I rummage around my desk for a piece of paper. I quickly scribbleDeon and Nathalie’s Guide to Casual Sexon the top in pink ink.

“Rules?”

A crinkle forms between Deon’s brows, and I focus on the paper and not how adorable he is when he’s confused.

“Yes. Rules. So the lines don’t become blurred.” I start a list. “We need a word to initiate sexy time.” At this point, I’m scrambling to create a boundary that will keep my crush small. “How about ‘artichoke’? If either of us wants to get down and dirty, we sayartichoketo let the other know, and they can say yes or no.”

My hand flies across the page to write down my rules.

“Is that really—” I cut Deon off, and he gives me a startled, worried look.

“No touching outside of sexy time or when we have to pretend in front of people. We keep our hands to ourselves unless the other person says the code word.”

That should help. If there are no surprising kisses or lingering touches, I’ll be able to wrangle my little crush and obliterate her.

“Will you stop calling it ‘sexy time’?” Deon starts fiddling with the trinkets on my desk.

“Do you have any rules?”

“I think these rules are stupid,” he grumbles, and his disapproval of the rules is slightly shocking. He should love these. They prevent any feelings or relationships from forming, two things he’s made clear he wants no part in.

“No sleeping with other people, obviously,” I say jokingly, but Deon’s gaze darkens to a shade I’ve never seen before.There’s anger in his features before it quickly morphs into embarrassment.

His voice is nearly a whisper when he says, “Please don’t do that.”

Guilt lodges in my throat at my failed joke.

“Deon,” I lay a hand over his, ignoring rule number two, “I was only kidding. I wouldneversleep with someone else while I was with you. Trust me when I say that.” He nods, but the air in the room is heavy. “I think what we have now is good,” I say awkwardly. “If we want to add anything, we can let the other person know and put it on the list.”

“Sure.”

Deon’s demeanor is stiff and I said something that upsets him. I was only kidding. I would never jeopardize his image or hurt his feelings by sleeping with someone else while I was with him.

Real or not, Deon has my loyalty.

“Artichoke?” I whisper, leaning over my desk to meet his gaze. The green of his eyes is paler today, a soft shade of sage, and when he nods, my heart jerks in my chest.

Our kiss isn’t heated, like the one earlier, but it’s tender, and it makes me re-think my agreement to fake dating with benefits. It’s not supposed to be anything more than the physical aspect, but as his hand softly trails along my cheek and I sink into the touch, it surpasses physical and plants itself firmly in the emotional section of my mind.

We break apart, and he smiles, diffusing the previous tension that lingered in the office.

“Wanna help set up for the after-school program?” I ask, but I mean,Wanna do something in the craft room while I cool downin here and re-collect my marbles, which I’ve lost sometime since Saturday?

“Put me to work,” he responds with a smile, and my mind immediately leaps to a different kind of work, a much more pleasurable type of work.

Fucked.

I am completely fucked.

Don’t do it.

Do not do it.

I chant the phrase in my mind as I covertly watch Deon in the craft room. He’s precariously perched on a small chair, surrounded by a small army of children vying for his attention.

God damnit.

He extends his hand, and I frown as Lina, one of our shyest children, slips a beaded bracelet onto his wrist.

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