Page 94 of Fumbled Into Love

He misses harassing me. There’s a difference.

What do you think about inviting him to stay with us for Christmas?

The thought pops into my mind. He shouldn’t spend the holiday alone in his apartment. There’s plenty of space at my house if Nathalie stays in my room. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t invite Declan to stay at my house for an extended period, but these aren’t normal circumstances, and what Nathalie said to me replays in my mind.

We’re his family now.

It also means Nathalie will be back in my bed.

I want a do-over from the last time.

You’d be okay with that?

Sure. As long as you’re okay sharing a bed again.

I toss my phone beside me, attempting to focus on the long-forgotten game of Go Fish. I white knuckle grip the squishy ball from the fidget toys Nathalie bought for me. My friends all stare at me, a range of emotions on their faces. Jack’s is knowing, Henry’s is slightly confused, and Declan’s is surprisingly gleeful.

“What?”

Jack lifts a brow. “We’ve been calling your name for the last thirty seconds.”

I blanche. “Oh.”

For the first time since Alan died and Declan showed up on my doorstep, his smile is genuine. “Who were you texting?” he asks.

“Nathalie,” I say simply, impatiently waiting for her response.

Will she agree to share a bed again? Does it break any of the rules on our list? It’s a stretch, but itcouldbe considered platonic.

“I knew you zinged,” Declan says smugly, and I groan.

“What’s ‘zinging’?” Henry asks, dropping his cards onto the table.

Cue the hour-long soap box on the concept of zinging and Declan’s pursuit to find his zing.

I guess the game is over, not that I was super into it to begin with, but it was fun to get away with lying about my cards.

“It’s a zap in your chest. The electric feeling you have when you’re with your special person. I haven’t had myzingyet, but it seems like Deon has.”

Nathalie’s smiling face as she walks through the door floods my mind. Her quiet laughter and soft teasing. The way her toeswiggle beneath my calves and how she lights up watching her dating shows like it’s the most exciting thing to ever happen.

“Look at the newest member of the Zing society,” Henry says, breaking my stupor. I glare at him. “Oh, don’t even. You aren’t fooling any of us.”

“We’re friends,” I say, though the words are flimsy, and my skin crawls at the confession. It feels like we are much more than friends, and debasing every moment we’ve had tofriendshipfeels wrong.

Which is precisely the problem.

“If the look on your face wasn’t enough of an answer, then letting her live in your guest room is a dead giveaway,” Declan adds. “I’ve seen the state of your locker. It’s orderly and precise. I also know Nathalie. She is many things, but neither of those.”

“She leaves her shoeseverywhere,” I admit.

Declan raises a brow. “You’ve totally zinged, man.”

“I haven’t,” I bite out, more forcefully than I intend, and three shocked looks meet my own. “It doesn’t matter if I’ve zinged or not. It’s all fake. Pretend. Make believe. Whatever you want to call it, it doesn’t matter. It’s. Not.Real.”

I want to turn in on myself, escape their knowing stares, escape the sickening twist in my chest every time I think about the day Nathalie will leave.

This is my fault.

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