Page 59 of My Fake Dating with the Grumpiest Highlander
“Since when?”
“Since she summoned me for an ‘urgent consultation’ and described symptoms that don’t exist in any medical textbook.”
A smile tugs at my mouth.
“The migrating pain behind her left knee that gets worse when it rains?”
“Among other things.”
I dunk a cookie into my milk. It breaks apart and sinks straight to the bottom.
“And that doesn’t annoy you?” I ask, standing to grab a spoon.
Finn shrugs.
“It does. But I don’t exactly have anywhere else to go. The village hates me. I got kicked out of a bed-and-breakfast bydemocratic vote. Your grandmother’s giving me a free place to stay. I’m not really in a position to complain.”
The resignation in his voice catches me off guard.
No bitterness.
Just exhaustion.
I sit back down and study him over the rim of my bowl. He looks different at three in the morning. Less guarded. More human.
His hair is slightly messy, and there’s a little line of milk on his upper lip he clearly hasn’t noticed.
He’s kind of adorable in his own way.
“You’ve got a milk mustache,” I say, gesturing to my own face.
He wipes it away quickly, the tips of his ears turning faintly red.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
Silence settles around us again. I fish the soggy cookie piece out of my bowl and eat it.
“And you?” he asks suddenly. “Why can’t you sleep?”
“Because my grandmother spent the entire evening humiliating me in front of my family by implying I’m going to die alone and get eaten by imaginary cats.”
“At least she didn’t compare you to a dead saint.”
“No. She just compared me to all my perfectly settled cousins with their perfectly organized lives.”
“The perfect cousins who spent the entire evening watching us like lab rats?”
“The very same.”
I grab another cookie. This one survives the milk.
“She’s not going to stop, you know,” I say after a moment. “Once Grandma gets an idea into her head, she’s like Hamish when he spots Ragnar. Impossible to stop.”
Finn grimaces.
“I noticed.”
