Page 78 of The Opposite of Romance
“And you and Logan, what the hell was up with that?”
“You’re not hearing me. I’m feeling so fucking sorry for making Dean out himself before he was ready.”
“I know, but it wasn’t your fault. This isn’t a book. Fake dates are probably more likely to end up like this one than actually working. What I want to hear is why a guy that you’re ‘just having sex’ with threw a jealous fit when he saw you with someone else?”
“He didn’t throw a jealous fit…” I sigh.
“Oh, no? And how wouldyoucharacterize his actions? Because from where I’m sitting, that was some top-notch possessive, over the top, ‘you’re mine’ MMC shit.”
“He forced me to agree on a date with him,” I blurt out, finally seeing what she’s saying.
Another loud gasp escapes her. “Ooh, I need to get my trope list.”
It might be her excitement. It might be the four shots of tequila I drank in under ten minutes, but I giggle. Actually giggle.
“Ok, I have it here,” she continues. “Crossing off fake date…”
A thought pops into my head, eliciting another fit of giggles. “Cross off marriage of convenience, too.”
“What?” she shrieks.
“Dean proposed.” My belly now hurts with laughter.
“Well, I guess it’s the closest we’ll get to an actual marriage of convenience. So approved. Ooh, I’m also crossing off possessive,” she singsongs.
“No, you’re not.” I clear my throat, not finding it funny.
She’s the one to giggle now. “Why not? He was obviously possessive.”
“He wasn’t possessive when I had my other dates.” My hand drops onto my forehead. “I simply don’t see him fitting into any of the tropes.” My voice turns low.
It’s a silly list made for fun. She could easily cross off possessive and put Logan on it. But I don’t want him on that list. I don’t want to turn what we have, whatever that is, into a trope. I want to keep it. For myself. So that, one day, when Sandy and I are old and gray and laughing at that silly list, wedon’t find his name on it. Because, if I’m being honest with myself, I have a feeling it will hurt, even then.
I know I can’t keep him. I know this is casual and fun, and just what I need right now. But I know it will hurt like a motherfucker.
“Sadie…” Sandy breaks my silence.
“Yeah?”
“I won’t cross off possessive.”
“Thank you.”
I know she knows exactly what I’m thinking. And I’m grateful she doesn’t force me to talk about it more.
“I think I’ll head to bed, Dee.”
“Sure. Don’t overthink this, Sades.”
I end the call with a soft chuckle. She knows there’s absolutely no chance for me to not overthink this, but she still tries.
Asher exitsthe car and runs straight into my arms, his backpack dropping to the floor.
“Did you have fun at Dad’s?” I ask, planting a kiss on his cheek.
Liv trails slowly behind him, her dark hair covering her face, like a scary kid in a horror movie. Still, she gets as close as Asher and lets me press a kiss to her cheek, too.
“I did, but I missed my room.” Asher shrugs.
