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“And that was that? You both felt the same way?” She’s speaking to Bryce now.

“I’ve felt that way for a while now. I was waiting for Daisy to catch up.”

Bryce’s statement sounds incredibly honest. So much so that my cheeks heat despite the lie I know is hidden within it. Maybe I didn’t have to worry about us being able to pull this off after all.

Gazing up at her, I let loose a lazy smile and hope it helps convince my sister that we’re not lying out of our asses right now.

Bryce might very well be the selling point here because the way she stares at me, a foreign spark in those guarded eyes of hers that drags a soft touch along my rib cage, has me wondering if I’m going to survive the next few weeks or find myself chewed up and spit out.

Is it bad to consider if that would even be a bad outcome? Call me a glutton for punishment, but I could think of worse ways to go.

I try not to focus on the soft, strong hand in mine and turn back to my sister. She may as well be audibly swooning as she stares back and forth between us. It’s a win as obvious as any.

One down . . . only a dozen more to go.

14

BRYCE

Daisy hangsup with her sister and slowly sets the phone on the bed between her bent knees. She hasn’t released my hand yet, and I tell myself that I’ll pull it free in a minute.

One minute turns into two, and two must turn into three by the time she clears her throat and slips her fingers free of the hold. A flash of heat rolls down my body as I put some extra space between us and decide to leave.

“Do you think the story I made up is easy enough to remember?” she asks abruptly. “I tried to keep it easy and not give too many details.”

“Yeah. Instant connection. Easy enough to sell.”

“Okay, great! That’s what I thought too,” she says, smiling softly.

“I think I’m going to . . .” I jab my thumb toward the door, suddenly awkward as fuck. “Gotta shower.”

Her eyes widen in realization. “Right. You were at pole, I take it?”

“Yeah. Poppy’s here early. I couldn’t pass up spending the afternoon with her.”

“That’s sweet of you. I’ve never been to her studio before.”

Is she saying that because she wants to go? Does she need aninvitation? Am I the one who should be doing the inviting? For fuck’s sake, why are my hands always so goddamn sweaty?

“It’s a nice place. Very pink,” I blurt out.

Holy fuck, Bryce.

Clapping my hands together, I swing my body around and walk right out of Daisy’s room, not another word coming out of my mouth.

I don’t stop walking until I reach my room and shut the door with my back. As I linger there with my eyes shut and cheeks pulsing, embarrassment makes a mess of my insides. Never have I dealt with such a terrible case of word vomit and anxiety in someone’s presence. Daisy is the exact personality that should make it easy to be myself. Yet, that’s not at all my reality.

I’m a tongue-twisted teenager around her, and I’m supposed to be able to pull off a fake dating ruse? At the rate I’m self-destructing, it’s going to be an absolute disaster.

There’s a knock on the door against my back, followed by a soft “Bryce?”

My mouth is scarily dry. “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask if it was okay to hold your hand like that.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. We haven’t discussed boundaries, and we should have. I’d like to do that now, if that’s okay with you.”