Page 48 of Fake As Puck
He exhales. “No, they bought it.”
“Good. Mission accomplished.”
He nods.
We finish breakfast, and I wander around his kitchen, opening cabinets and drawers like I’m doing an inventory.
“Oh my god,” I say, opening the pantry. “West.”
“What?”
“You bought my cereal.”
“What?”
“Honey Nut Cheerios. You bought my favorite cereal.”
He looks uncomfortable. “I wanted you to have options.”
“And the trail mix. And those stupid crackers I like. And...” I open the fridge. “Almond milk. The unsweetened kind.”
“I asked Tessa what you liked.”
“You asked Tessa for a grocery list of my preferences?”
“I wanted you to be comfortable.”
I stare at him, and something warm and confusing spreads through my chest.
“That’s really thoughtful.”
“It’s nothing.”
My eyes widen. “It’s not nothing. It’s sweet.”
“Don’t make it weird.”
I defend myself. “I’m not making it weird. You made it weird by being unexpectedly considerate.”
“I’m always considerate.”
We’re staring at each other across his kitchen island, and there’s something in his expression that makes my stomach flip.
“I don’t want you to leave,” he says suddenly.
The words hang in the air between us, and I feel my heart skip. I was expecting that.
“What?” I ask.
He mutters, “I said I don’t want you to leave.”
“West—”
“I know it’s stupid. I know this is all fake as fuck. But I don’t want you to leave.”
I don’t know what to say to that. Don’t know how to respond to the vulnerability in his voice or the way he’s looking at me.
“It’s just convenient,” I say finally. “Having me here. Not having to explain to your friends why your real girlfriend isn’t around.”
