Page 66 of Movers and Fakers

My eyebrows shoot up. I glance to Andrea for help, but she’s already gone, heading to the living room to check on the few guests in there. She probably would have encouraged it, anyway.

“Uh, okay, I guess?” I scratch the back of my neck. “What do you want to know?”

“What are your intentions with our bestie?” Saylor asks with the same tone usually reserved for a dad asking about his daughter.

“To take care of her,” I answer without thinking.

The only people left at the table are Aurora’s roommates and Jameson. Aurora’s dad and brother are in the living room watching a football game, along with a few other extended family members. So technically, everyone around me knows we’re fake dating, making my reply a bit much for this interview. But it’s the truth. I want to take care of Aurora.

“Are you in love with her?” Saylor whispers with wide eyes and a sparkling smile.

“Um—that’s a little personal,” I answer, feeling more off-kilter than I usually do when talking to people. I want Aurora’s friends to like me, because I can tell how much she values their opinions, same as her family. But I also don’t want to say too much too soon.

“Have you kissed yet?” Saylor blurts her next question, unfazed by my nonanswer.

Jasmine hits her arm. “Say, chill. If they kissed, we’d know.”

Marigold leans forward, staring me down as she asks, “Are you going to leave her after you get what you want like you’ve done with all the other girls you’ve dated?”

“Goldie,” Jameson says in a gruff tone.

Her friends give her looks of censure, too.

Marigold sighs. “Okay, okay, that was too far. I’m sorry. It’s just, Aurora is always looking out for others. She deserves someone to be protective over her.”

The sincerity in her voice tells me she’s genuine. If I had to guess, Aurora has been there for all her friends when they needed her, even if it wasn’t in a way that most people—including Aurora—would recognize. I’m glad they do.

“I agree,” I say quietly. “And I get that my reputation is less than stellar, but I hope that I’ve shown things with Aurora are different.”

“You have,” Jasmine confirms before Marigold can reply. “But we know the circumstances of your relationship are a bit unique.” She keeps her voice low so that no one else hears.

I hesitate to reply. How can I reassure her friends without confessing something Aurora deserves to be the first to know?

“Why are all of you so quiet?” Aurora’s voice makes me jump. “What are you plotting?”

I look up and my lips part in quiet shock. Aurora walks toward the table, a curtain of smooth brown hair that reaches nearly to her waist swaying with every step. It’s the first time I’ve seen her with her hair down, and it’s better than every dream I’ve had about this exact moment.

She tucks a strand behind one ear, her cheekbones tinting pink with a blush. It’s then that I notice she removed her makeup, too. Everything about her is softened. I want to run my fingers through her hair, over her skin. And more than anything, I want to kiss her. It’s a kind of all-consuming need that makes me forget about her friends’ questions, forget about their existence entirely.

“What?” she mumbles as she takes her seat.

I’m at a loss for words. I shake my head a little, trying to restore power to my brain.

“You look …” I trail off. She fidgets with her necklace and avoids my gaze. “Radiant.”

The word isn’t enough, but it’s all I can think of. Aurora’s blush deepens a shade, and I vaguely register her friends giggling beside us.

I have to tell her how I feel, soon. And hope that she feels the same. Because every second without her being mine is an acute kind of torture that I don’t want to endure any longer.

Chapter thirty-three

Never Have I Ever

Hayes Rosewood

It took surprisingly little convincing to get Aurora to let me take her back to campus after dinner at her parents’ house. Everyone was laughing over slices of yellow cake with chocolate frosting—Aurora’s favorite, I learned—and I just bent down and asked if she wanted to ride back to school with me. She smiled around a bite of cake and nodded.

Her friends took her presents back to their apartment. Meanwhile, we sat in the back seat of the SUV while Mac drove. I was too nervous to say anything, and Aurora seemed content with the silence. She rested her head on my shoulder. I toyed with a lock of her silky hair. Even with my nerves bouncing around like Ping-Pong balls beneath my skin, there was something peaceful about the drive. This little pocket of time where we weren’t on display or trying to fit in whatever roles we’d been assigned in life.