Page 33 of The Fake Mate

“Probably because you’ve gotten so good at the whole ‘scary Dr. Taylor’ thing.”

I consider that. Ihavedone my absolute best to avoid any connection outside of work for as long as I’ve been here. Honestly, Paul is probably the closest thing I have to a friend, and he found out about me completely by accident.

“I’ve been so focused on keeping my secret... I don’t know. I can see how I might have come across.”

“Well, maybe it’ll end up being a good thing someone turned you in.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just mean that it must be nice to not have to pretend anymore, right?”

I frown, thinking. “I guess it is a bit of a relief.”

“And when you get to Albuquerque, you can take all the cool things I’m teaching you and use them to make real friends. I think by then we’ll have the scowling down to a minimum, surely.”

The reminder that I’m leaving is sobering, and I can’t really discern why. Nothing has changed since last week, so hearing about the plans that I’ve had from the beginning shouldn’t make me feel so strange.

“Right,” I say airily. “I have absolute faith in your abilities.”

“I’m right up here,” she says, pointing to the building ahead. “Take this next right.”

I slow the car so I can turn in, coming to a stop outside the door to her building and parking the car. She unbuckles slowly, lingering in her seat for a moment.

“About earlier...” She fidgets a little. “When we were dancing. I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable. I probably shouldn’t have had that second shot.”

Oh.Oh. Has she been worrying about this the entire time?

“No, no,” I assure her. “You didn’t. It’s fine.”

“I hope you don’t think I was, like, coming on to you. I don’t want you worrying about me crossing a line or something.”

“No, I—” It would probably be a terrible idea to let her know I’ve been struggling myself, right? Obviously, she is uncomfortable by the idea of it all. “It’s really okay. Blame it on the alcohol.”

“The alcohol,” she parrots, nodding. “Right. Yeah. So we’re okay?”

“We’re fine,” I urge. “I’m sure it won’t be the last time things get awkward. It’s a strange arrangement we’re in. There are no real guidelines here.”

“Okay. Whew.” She playfully wipes the back of her hand across her brow, peeking up a little. “Glad that’s settled. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then, yeah?”

“Sure.” That reminds me. “How did you know I work tomorrow?”

“Oh. My friend Parker is the IT guy. I got him to print me a copy of your schedule.” She looks panicked for a second. “Is that weird? I just thought that if someone asked me if you were working or something I should probably know. Now I’m thinking it might be creepy. Shit.”

“No, it’s fine. Really. I was just surprised that you knew. That totally makes sense.” I can tell she still feels weird about it, so I add, “You should probably get me a copy of yours too. Just in case.”

“Okay.” She nods fervently, looking relieved. “Yeah. I will.” She finally gives me another smile, and I’m starting to think that my body is developing some sort of instinctual reaction to it. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a good night, okay?”

“You too,” I murmur, watching her open her door to leave.

She gives me a little wave before she steps inside the building, and I don’t leave until she’s out of sight. Her worried expression atthe thought of having crossed a line sticks with me—for reasons I can’t explain. It should be a good thing that she’s worrying about it, and it should be areliefthat she wanted to make sure I knew it wasn’t her intentionally coming on to me. So why do I feel so shitty right now?

During the entire drive home, I never came up with a good answer.

7

Mackenzie

The weekend endsup being a disastrous time at work, and after the night at the bar, I don’t see Noah for three days. I can’t pretend the space isn’t alittlewelcome after that awkward moment at the party.

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