27. Lila
TWENTY-SEVEN
LILA
Tonight went better than I expected. I never thought I would praise my Mom’s subtlety, but she could have been a whole lot more direct with her pushy questions for Grant and me. Luckily, she had Griffin and Hope to coo over all night, so she still got her fill of dreaming up romantic weddings for somebody.
The drive home, though, doesn’t feel like the same success. The air in the car sticks and catches, and Grant’s lingering silence forms a hard little ball of worry in my stomach.
Really, an engagement party is a terrible choice of date for this early in a relationship, no matter how faux. It’s a lot of pressure on a guy. Like going on a first date on February thirteenth.
“Was that too much?” I finally ask when he parks in front of my building. “Did my mom scare you off?”
He glances my way. It’s hard to tell in the dim light of his SUV, but he seems surprised by the question.
“No, your mom didn’t scare me off.”
“Oh. Well, that’s good.” But without that, I’m stumped to explain his silence.
We get out of the car, and I let us into the building so he can walk me up to my door. I hope he doesn’t notice the musty old-building smell somebody keeps trying to cover with lemon-scented air freshener. My fingers are crossed someone will buy out the owners and update the apartments, but if they did, it would probably triple my rent. Kind of a catch-22.
It’s late. I should not invite Grant in. But after snuggling up to him all evening and sitting in his comfy lap for so long, I can’t think about much more than extending the night just a little. Maybe another kiss? One last cuddle?
I can be strong. I can give him a hug and say goodnight and leave it at that. I absolutely can.
“Do you want to come in?”
I see my mistake right away—his smile has too much apology in it. My stomach twists. Yeah, okay. Maybe I should have tried harder to resist the urge to ask him in.
“I shouldn’t,” he says.
I need to just let it go, say goodnight, and move on. But I can’t do that any more than I could have resisted asking him to come inside my apartment.
“Is everything okay? I thought you were having a good time tonight, but now I feel like maybe I messed up.”
As often as I told myself I would run at the first sign a guy was criticizing me again, right now, I just want to make things right. I’m not even sure the mistake is mine.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Lila.”
“Then what happened?” But an answer comes to me. I should have thought of it before I ever brought him to the party, but I was too focused on myself. “Did it remind you of Kelsey?”
His eyebrows practically knit together in confusion. “Kelsey?”
“Everyone congratulating Hope and Griffin, talking about the wedding…” I run a hand over his arm, hoping to find some way to comfort him. “It was thoughtless of me to take you there right after you told me about what happened with her. I’m so sorry. I should have been more careful with you.”
“Careful with me?” He looks to the ceiling, shaking his head, but finally drops his gaze. His eyes lock on mine like a thunderbolt. “I didn’t think about her for one minute, princess. Not one.”
“Then why?—”
“Because I’m the one who should be more careful. I don’t want any confusion.”
“About what?”
“About us.” He pauses a beat, watching me. Telegraphing everything he’s not saying.
My stomach is a bowling ball plummeting through the floor to crash into the pharmacy downstairs in a cloud of dust. I’ve reminded myself he’s only my fake boyfriend over and over again this week, and it pinches every time. But it’s so much worse when he mentions it. Like a slap you never saw coming but maybe you deserve.
It is pretend. Also…none of it is. But we never agreed to more. Letting actual emotions get tangled up is all on me.
He’s right to point out that the romantic part of our relationship is just for show. Between spending so much time together and our soft little confidences and reading together at night, I’d started to think… Well, started is the wrong word. I’m waist-deep in those thoughts and sinking farther by the minute. But his reminder grabs me by the armpits and lifts me out of that muck onto solid ground.
Solid, realistic, sensible ground.
“Right,” I say. “Us. Yes. There’s no confusion here. We are pals only. Best buds. We have mutually friendzoned each other. ”
He narrows his eyes like my agreement went too far. Or not far enough. How am I supposed to tell what he’s feeling anymore? I can’t. I shouldn’t even try.
“Lila—”
“I need to get to bed anyway. It’s been a long day.” I fake a huge yawn until a real one kicks in and nearly unhinges my jaw.
He frowns, but I definitely don’t want to hear more about how he doesn’t want me to be confused . I didn’t think I was until he said that. Now I am all confusion.
I sat in his lap half the night. He kissed my face. He smelled my neck. Which seems to be a common thing for him, but still. He was the perfect boyfriend in front of my family and friends. I know it’s all fake. I do.
So why is his clarification making me this muddled?
I can’t let it. I need to get back on that fake boyfriend train and ride it until—wait. No. Terrible metaphor.
“You’ll tell me if you have more outdoorsy things you want to do, right?” I am so cheerful it hurts. Mostly in my sad, confused little heart.
His mouth twitches like he’s debating his options. I shouldn’t be internally begging him to say yes. Haven’t I learned anything? Seems like the lesson doesn’t want to take.
“How about a bike ride this week?” he offers.
It’s a crumb, but I’m only too happy to snatch it up. No lessons learned here. I am unteachable!
“The electric kind?”
“They might have some, if you want.”
I sigh dramatically. “Fine. I’ll pedal.”
“I didn’t know pedaling was such a burden.” He smiles, and even if it’s not the huge one that makes my chest go light and fluttery, it’s something. He nods at the door. “I’ll wait for you to go in.”
Right. No going inside with me, no goodnight kiss. Just a reminder I’m getting things confused and the promise of an outdoor activity I haven’t done in at least fifteen years.
Go, me.