Page 134 of The Fake Date Agreement

He clears his throat. “I should go. Let you get back to your book.”

“Sure.” I have no interest in my book. I’m too busy kicking myself for being so awkward that I scared Caleb away.

After saying our goodbyes, I hang up and place my phone on the charger overnight.

I turn off my lamp and try to sleep.

For fifteen minutes, I lie in the dark with my eyes wide open.

I can't get his voice out of my head.

What did he mean when he said things were easier with me than with anyone else?

That I’m friend material or something else?

I close my eyes.

Two seconds later, they pop open again.

“What did you mean?” I whisper in the dark.

Is trampling across campus to ask a question that could lead to humiliation a good idea? Probably not. Will this question torment me all night if I don’t ask it? Absolutely.

I sit up and turn my lamp on.

I’m in my PJs and have no desire to change into jeans, so I pull a hoodie over my head, slip my feet into a pair of sneakers, and grab my keys on my way to the door.

And I jump a foot off the ground when I swing the door open and come face-to-face with someone standing directly outside. It’s a miracle I don’t scream. But mostly, it’s because I’m confused.

“Caleb?” I frown. “What are you doing here?”

It’s so obvious, I don’t know why I’m asking.

He’s here to end the fake date thing. My awkward, introverted ways are too much for him to handle. He couldn’t even wait until tomorrow. Like me, he’s thrown on a hoodie, sneakers, and a pair of black sweatpants as if he got dressed in a hurry. That’s how badly he wanted it over.

“I said something wrong, didn’t I?” he asks, confusing the hell out of me.

I blink up at him. “Huh?”

Great use of your communication skills, Tobie.

Avoiding my gaze, he rakes a hand through his tousled dirty-blond hair. “I said something before and made you uncomfortable.”

I blink again, probably resembling a goldfish in a bowl. I have to stop doing that before it becomes an ingrained habit. “You thought you did somethingwrong?”

He glances at me, then away, before refocusing on me, the tension leaving his shoulders. “I didn’t?”

I shake my head. “Why would you think that?”

“You went quiet, and I swear I could hear you wishing me to hang up.”

He thought that?

His eyes drift over my shoulder, settling on my unmade bed and hopefully not judging me for it. “It’s been a while since I’ve talked to a girl. Hockey is my thing. I could tell you how to use every piece of equipment in the gym. This is…” He waves a hand around. “New. This is new. I couldn’t go to sleep without checking to make sure I hadn’t said something that made you uncomfortable.”

Is this man real?

He looks at me. “You’re smiling.”

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