Page 87 of The Fake Out

He mumbled something I couldn’t quite hear and, just like that, he was quiet again. I forced my eyes shut and tried to take slow, deep breaths, maybe trick myself into falling asleep, but it didn’t work. I flipped over on my stomach to get more comfortable. I wished I had my phone. I could call Ali, who was usually up at all hours of the night. Just to hear a familiar voice, something that hadn’t changed in my life recently.

More tossing and turning. My brain began churning.

How had this become my life? Two months ago, I was a librarian with an angry cat and a second job at Chicky’s. Now I was sleeping in the same bed with my fake fiancé.

I had not had that on my BINGO card this year.

How would the next few months of my life unfold? With the money, I’d pay off Mama’s medical bills, set aside some for things Iris might need for college. Maybe we could find her a decent, inexpensive car.

With a grunt, I turned on my side.

“Stop,” Chris groaned. “Every time you move, the bed moves. It’s like trying to sleep on a trampoline during a kid’s birthday party. Go to sleep.”

I winced. “I’m sorry. I’m not great at sleeping. My brain keeps going and going even when I’m exhausted. At home, I have a routine. I take melatonin and use a weighted blanket; even then it doesn’t always work. I’ll just lay here silently, won’t move a muscle, I promise.”

Chris sighed and began to toss pool noodles across the room.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Helping you sleep.”

“How are you going—?” I squeaked when he hauled me across the bed.

“I don’t have melatonin, but I can be a stand-in weighted blanket.” With that, he circled my waist with his arm and sort of wedged me under him, his leg over mine. Suddenly he was everywhere.

I froze.

“Relax,” he said, his mouth close to my ear.

“Sure. No problem.” It should be noted, it was a problem. A big one. A big, huge, jumbo-sized human problem. My one free hand flailed around for someplace to lay. Tentatively, it settled on Chris’s arm.

“You’re heavy,” I breathed.

“That’s the point, isn’t it?”

I turned my face into him and inhaled. I might never be able to smell sunscreen again without equating it with Chris now. I wondered if they made sunscreen-scented candles.

Slowly my body relaxed. My eyelids grew heavy. It was getting hard to keep them open.

“Are you okay?” Chris whispered, his voice soft.

“Yes,” I whispered back.

“Good. Now go to sleep.”

“Okay.”

And to my amazement, I did.

THIRTY-EIGHT

Did your license get suspended for driving all these guys crazy?

—TENNAYA B.

“Awww. Look how cute they are.” That was Aggie.

“See? I told you this was a good idea. They got to have a little alone time.” That was Millie.