Page 93 of Love Arranged

“Because you’re unusually quiet tonight.”

Talk to me about Daisy,I say in my head.

Tell me why she matters to you so much, I add.

Any iteration of the question makes me sound like I care too much. Like I’m snubbed because she chose to lean on Rafa for help instead of me.

Nothing about our agreement requires us to shareeverything about ourselves, so I have no right to private information.

Yet I want to know anyway, and I hate myself for it.

Her lips go from pursing to flattening into a thin line. “You know, Iamcapable of being silent sometimes.”

“Doesn’t mean I want you to be.” My comment is followed by a pause full of crackling tension.

Lily’s gaze is hot on my face. “Why not?”

“I’ve come to enjoy your rambling.”

“Is this your discreet way of telling me you like the sound of my voice?”

“Depends. Is thisyourdiscreet way of asking if I do?”

She cracks a smile. It’s the first one I’ve seen all day from her, and it fills me with a relief I have no business feeling in the first place. “Maybe.”

I tip her head back so I can get a clear look at her eyes. “If you want an answer, then ask the question.” An interesting piece of advice coming from the man who won’t bring up Daisy, but I’m nothing if not consistent when it comes to not revealing my cards.

It takes Lily a moment to reply, and I should’ve known it was because I wouldn’t appreciate her next line of questioning.

“Why do you care if I’m quiet?” she asks.

I walked myself into this trap, so I need to deal with the consequences of my honesty. “Because that means you’re upset, and I’ve come to realize I don’t like that.”

She smiles to herself, like she is in on a joke I’m not privy to.

“What?” I ask, somewhat affronted by her amusement.

“Nothing.” Her eyes fall to her lap again and that damn phone.

I tangle my fingers in her hair and force her to look at me. “Tell me.”

“So you can run away when shit gets too real? I think not.”

“I don’t run away. I…”

“Flee?” she teases, and I’m motivated to do something about that smirk on her face.

I turn her ponytail into a rope, winding it around my hand until her head tilts in my direction. She tries to pull away, but she can’t go anywhere.

“Look who’s fleeing now.” I smile.

Her eyes darken, and I want to drown in their inky depths, only to have that thought interrupted by a car pulling up next to us.

Lily slides a dazzling smile onto her face like our conversation never happened, and I have no choice but to let our conversation—and her hair—go.

Regardless of my personal desires, we have a show to put on, and I excel at my role as I offer to grab us milkshakes and popcorn from the concession stand.

“You’re the best, baby.” Lily waves me off, and the young couple parked beside us snickers.