Page 152 of The Fake Date Agreement

I laughed when I first heard the nickname people gave us. So did Reid and Javier. But we kept winning and winning, and we all stopped laughing, and it became real.

Just like this fake-date thing was supposed to be pretend, yet Reid and Javier are treating Tobie like she’s actually ours. I’m starting to do the same.

I study Tobie, walking quietly by my side. We’re still holding hands, and I don’t want to let her go.

Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

The last time I wanted someone as much as I want her was never.

Not once. Not until Tobie.

Javier says she’s easy to be around. Not for me. She makes me painfully aware of how perfectly she fills the emptiness I didn’t know I had in my life.

As if she feels my attention, she flicks her gaze toward me.

“Dreading this party?” I ask her.

The party was Javier’s suggestion. Everyone is buying our relationship, but this isn’t to rub it in Marc’s face like the last one. Javier wants to show Tobie that a college party can be fun, especially since we’re all graduating soon.

She smiles. “Not really. I’ve seen the power of your legendary glare in action. I know where to go if there’s someone I don’t want to talk to.”

“I’ll save you a space, Myers,” I say, squeezing her hand. “You always have a space right beside me.”

The party is in full swing by the time we arrive.

My nose itches from whatever the fuck someone is smoking in the back. It’s sweet and herby, and I’m not interested in investigating it.

It’s not as packed as the last party, and there’s a room set aside for dancing. I don’t dance. But I caught Tobie give that room a lingering look as we passed it on our way in. Does she want to dance?

Should I ask her?

“Brave must be rubbing off on Reid,” Javier says, glancing at his watch.

“What?” I rip my eyes from Tobie as she lifts her bottle of beer to her lips. Since I saw her with the lollipop Doc gave her, her mouth has become an obsession. Fuller on the top than the bottom. Soft and plush-looking. It’s not the marijuana someone is smoking in the backyard I crave. It’s the taste of her lips.

She was reaching for a cup of punch someone offered her when we arrived. Knowing—or not knowing—what someone put in there, I suggested a bottle of something instead. I’ve been to enough of these parties in my freshman and sophomore years to remember the people who knocked back the punch and spent the rest of the party clogging up a bathroom, hurling their guts up.

No way was I letting that happen to Tobie.

“Reid mentioned he would meet us here,” Javier says, his gaze fixed on my red knuckles as his eyebrow arches. "Is there something you want to share?”

“Just a run in with Tobie’s ex.”

“I’m guessing he was dumb enough to provoke you. What happened?”

I fill him in on what happened and Javier shakes his head. “Sounds like he was asking for it.” He looks at Tobie. “Are you okay?”

She smiles at him. “Fine. Better than fine.”

He tilts his head, eyeing her curiously and smiling when she blushes and looks away. When his gaze returns to me and his expression turns knowing, it’s clear he’s worked out what we were doing before the party.

“What was Reid doing when you reminded him about the party?” I ask, because he should have been here before us.

Javier shrugs. “He wasn’t even dressed. I don’t know what he was doing, but he was being damn secretive about it.”

Tobie fidgets and looks away when I glance at her.

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