Page 32

BRYCE

I stareat Daisy for too long without speaking. My brain churns and churns through several replies, but they’re all muddled with too much confusion to make sense of.

It’s an out-of-pocket suggestion, considering my lack of love life. I’d be offended if it were anyone but her asking. The woman wouldn’t know what it means to purposely offend someone if it bit her in the ass.

“Maybe,” I manage to say once I’ve cleared my throat.

“Are you up for trying?”

“Where do you suggest I find a girlfriend? The supermarket?” I ask stiffly.

She worries her lip, eyes darting around the kitchen before landing back on me. The gleam in them has me standing straighter, a tight feeling growing in my chest.

“What about me? Would I do?”

I choke on air. Spit, maybe.

She opens her mouth, but I spin away from her before she has a chance to speak her next sentence. I beat my palm to my chest in hopes of soothing my coughing, but it only makes it worse.

“Drink this,” she orders before my beer is shoved in my face.

I take it and drink, focusing on swallowing instead of spraying it out all over the kitchen counter. My hand is sweaty around the glass as I clue in to how close she is to me.

Fruity perfume swirls in the air around me, and I breathe it in despite myself. She’s warm, the heat from her body trying to tug me into an embrace that feels as appealing as it always does. Asshealways does.

The thought has me shoving away from her. With space between us, I suck in long, non-Daisy-soaked breaths, no longer coughing. She doesn’t try to come closer, and I avoid looking at her to confirm whether I’ve hurt her feelings or not.

“You don’t want to date me,” I tell her bluntly, staring at the wall across the room instead of at her.

“Why not?”

She’s so inquisitive. It’s a piece of her personality that I noticed the first time we met.

“Why would you?”

“Touché.” Her laugh is soft, nervous. “I was thinking more in the fake sense.”

That has me snapping my head to the side. She doesn’t balk at my confusion and jostles a shoulder instead. Appearing nonchalant, she holds my stare and tugs her mouth up at the corners.

“I’ve been thinking of a way that I could pay you back for letting me stay here besides the bare minimum things, and, well, you need help with your parents. It’s a win-win. You let me stay here, and I’ll pay you rent, of course, but I’ll also help with this. It’s the only way I’ll feel like I haven’t taken advantage of you,” she adds.

A win-win.

“You’re fucking crazy, Daisy.”

It’s the wrong thing to say. So wrong on too many levels to count. But I’m unable to say anything else. If she knew what I thought about her, she’d rescind the offer and leave, never looking back.

The hurt that flickers across her pretty features makes my jaw tense, teeth grinding. I hate that look on her. Lips no longer upturned but tugged down and curled the wrong way. Her blue eyes a shade darker than usual, more ocean at night and less clear summer sky. I struggle with the weight of the knowledge that I’ve tarnished the bright aura she always has pulsing off her.

“Why is it crazy? Because you don’t think it would work or that you’d be fake dating me?” she asks, straightening her posture just enough for me to notice. Like she’s preparing for a fight and doesn’t plan on losing.

I like the sight of her backbone. Always knew it was there, but having it in play with me brings something hot and heavy to my gut.

With a firm grip on the counter, I hop up and sit on the edge of it. She watches me move, lips twitching. I pat the space beside me, and she doesn’t hesitate to join, her legs swinging in the tiny shorts she always wears around the house once she’s comfortable.

“It’s crazy because nobody would believe it just suddenly happened. Let alone my parents,” I tell her, clarifying.

“I think we could do it. You’ve dated women, right?”