Page 21 of Unrealistic Expectations

Galvin smiled. “Yeah, that checks out. He always was a fucking man baby.”

“You’re going to have to tell me why you hate him so much someday.”

He grimaced. “I’d rather tell you about my post-nut depression.”

“You know the shift in hormones really does cause that. It’s totally real.”

“So, I’m not some sort of emotionless monster because I just want to be alone after I come?”

“No.” Jessica shook her head. Most people were gratified to hear that the things that they were ashamed of were totally normal. “Have you ever just told a partner you need a few minutes before cuddling?”

“I feel like that’s a dick move.”

The waiter came to take their drink order, so Jessica couldn’t respond right away. Galvin picked a wine but looked at her for affirmation that she was okay with his selection, which she was fine with as long as he was paying for it.

When the server left the table, she said, “It’s no less of a dick move to say you need to collect yourself for a few moments than it is to rush out the door, probably being weird the whole time, without communicating why you’re being weird.”

“That makes a whole lot of sense.” Galvin nodded. “I’m going to try that for next time.”

The rush of jealousy that Jessica felt thinking about Galvin having a next time with someone else rocked her a little bit. Of course there was going to be a next time, and it wasn’t going to be with her. She got the impression that Galvin had a certain respect for her, and he liked her enough to be her fake boyfriend, but that had more to do with his hatred for Luke, didn’t it?

The server returned with their wine and took their order. Galvin raised his glass in a way that was sort of quaint and would have been romantic in any other context.

“To asking for our needs to be met.”

—

Jessica really needed his help. She might know more about the human psyche than anyone else he knew, but she knew virtually nothing about social media. Throughout dinner, he’d had to hold himself back from kissing that little crease in her forehead that formed every time he told her something new about it, like that Instagram Stories were different from posts. He didn’t get into the different forms of video, because that would have taken them until after the restaurant closed.

Their meal was perfect, and she’d posted a few shots of the table and their hands on glasses of wine, which was the whole stated objective for the night. He didn’t know how his other objective—the part about getting Jessica to see him as boyfriend material—was going. The fact that she knew about the anxiety he felt after sex was probably not a point in his favor. She hadn’t seemed to judge him, but he hadn’t put his best foot forward by admitting to that.

And while she seemed to be at ease during their meal, she wasn’t flirting with him the same way she’d flirted the night they’d run into each other at the bar. They hadn’t done shots, though, so that might explain why she wasn’t trying to rip off his clothes as he walked her to her door. In fact, she really hadn’t touched him all night.

“You really didn’t have to walk me to my door,” she said as she got out her key fob. “Now you have to get another car to take you home.” She got the door open, turned around, and looked up at him. “Thank you for a lovely fake date.”

Not quite ready to say good night, he braced one hand in the doorframe—not enough to prevent her from closing the door but communicating his intent to say something else—and leaned close to her face. She didn’t move away, but she started just a little. “I don’t think our night’s quite over, do you?”

“We had dinner, took photos, and you walked me all the way home, even though you didn’t have to,” Jessica said. “I’d say we’re done.”

“Do you think it’s a little weird that we didn’t touch each other all night? Except for holding hands for your Instagram?”

“I think everything about this situation is weird, don’t you?”

“Touché. But if people are going to believe that we’re into each other, we’re probably going to have to touch a little bit.”

Jessica didn’t look upset by this. Her skin had a pretty flush to it, and her heat drew him in. Her lips opened slightly, and her breath sped up. He leaned in closer, and she didn’t back away. “I want to kiss you right now.”

“You do?” She sounded so cute and bewildered by him. He probably liked that more than he should. “Like, for practice?”

Galvin shook his head slowly. “No, Jessica. I want to kiss you because I want to.”

“Oh.” He’d rendered her nearly speechless, which made him smile. He liked that he affected her on some level. It made him feel like their dynamic was more equitable, and he wasn’t just a victim of an unrequited crush. He’d had plenty of those during his adolescence, and he’d hoped to leave the feeling behind him. But the way she made him feel had that same intensity. In the days since he’d last seen her, she’d hijacked more of his thoughts than she should have. He didn’t even know her, and he thought about her all the time.

“Does that ‘oh’ mean that you want me to kiss you, too?” She hadn’t opened the door wide or gone up on her tiptoes to close the gap between their faces, but he knew she was cautious. She was making calculations in her brain about how this would affect their scheme, how she would feel after it happened, and probably how it would affect him emotionally.

But this kind of chemistry didn’t lend itself to rational thought. It just was. Sure, they could ignore it and try to pretend that they didn’t feel the things they felt, but what a waste that would be.

The relief that poured through him when she nodded her head and opened the door a bit wider rivaled the lust he felt at that moment. He didn’t hesitate, but he didn’t dive in and devour her the way everything in him was urging him to. He brushed his lips against hers and breathed her in. She tasted like wine and burnt sugar—rich and decadent in a way that belied her austere aesthetic. She wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and pulled him into the entryway of her condo, and he closed the door behind them.

---