Page 91 of The Fake Date Agreement

“You’re so lucky. I’m an only child, but I’d have killed to have a brother or sister. Does she go here?”

His smile fades, and I kick myself for asking. “No. She’s finishing up high school in Boston.”

I take a sip from my coffee, relieved it’s not burning hot. “But you miss her?”

“I do. My parents are not the biggest fans of my giving up medicine to play hockey. In their eyes, I can do better. Nessa cares more about whether it’s something that makes me happy than what it is I do.”

“They care,” I reassure him. “My dad was the same when I said I wanted to work in a chocolate factory when I was a kid.”

He raises an eyebrow.

I shake my head. “He worried about me making the wrong choice and living with regret. After my mom died, he told me if I choose the wrong thing, who cares? I have a lifetime to try something else. The important thing is I do whatever makes me happy. You should tell them how you feel about hockey. They’d understand.”

He takes a sip from his cup and makes a face. “Wow, is this pure sugar?”

“Yup. So is this one.” I take another big sip, sigh happily, then continue, “Do they know you love it?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve actually told them?”

He slows our pace. “Not exactly.”

“You should tell them. My dad wants me to stay safe. If I told him I wanted to join a circus and be a trapeze artist, he would obviously worry, but if he knew I loved it, he’d be sitting front row, praying I wouldn’t fall on my head.”

“A trapeze artist?”

I wince. “It was the first thing I could think of.”

He considers me for a beat and sighs. “I shouldn’t be boring you with this.”

I scrunch my nose, surprised. “Why would I be bored?”

“It’s not something I talk much about with anyone.”

“Even Reid and Caleb?”

“Even them. I did before, but it’s been years, and nothing has changed. There’s only so much you can complain and bitch about something before you feel like you should drop it.”

“If you want to talk, I don’t mind listening.”

A soft, small smile lifts one corner of his mouth. “You are very sweet,Gatinha.”

I look away, blushing. “No, I’m not.”

“You say what’s on your mind, and your feelings are right there in your eyes.”

I panic slightly at that. I’ve always been an open book. It’s something I got from my dad. So, to hear Javier say something like that when I’m struggling to hold onto the fact that our relationship is fake worries me.

“Tobie?”

I try to wipe all expression from my face so I’m no longer so easy to read. “Yeah?”

“Do you want to sit for a bit?” He nods at a bench.

“Sure.”

We take a seat, clasping our coffees and watching other students.

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