Page 197 of Fake it ’Til Fall

“He asked about snacks.”

“Smart board member.”

Forrest’s mouth almost curves.

I love him.

The thought arrives so simply that I don’t even panic at first.

I love him.

There it is, sitting next to the noodles, the laptop, my resignation email, and the dog with terrible board governance.

Not a thunderclap.

Not a fall from a cliff.

Just a fact, rude in its timing and impossible to unlearn.

I love Forrest Wolfcraft.

I love his grunts and his careful hands and his ugly honesty. I love that he buys dog blankets and pretends it’s logistics. I love that he read three romance novels and wrote angry margin notes about heroes who apologize too late. I love that he offered me a job with benefits and a door kids can walk through. I love that he asks, always asks, even when he already knows the answer because he will not take the choice from me.

Fuck.

This is inconvenient.

I’m in love with a guy who’s offering a dream. My own place where I can help. We talked about it. Pilot in Winterberry. Partnerships in Boston. Eventually a physical center there, land here, rink phase later. He’s the one with the money and the deeply inconvenient integrity. I’m the one with program design, donor strategy, and a troubling attraction to grant calendars.

“So, if I accept . . . how does this work?” I point at him and me. “Like, professionally? Because I have my toothbrush in your bathroom, my bra is probably in your laundry, and our dog thinks I’m his legal representation.”

“Our dog?”

I freeze.

Of course he catches that.

Of course he does.

Forrest Wolfcraft misses nothing except apparently emotional self-preservation, and even that feels recent.

“I meant your dog,” I say quickly. “Your dog. The dog. A dog. A neutral mammal with a receipt-eating problem.”

Puck snores.

Forrest looks at me.

Worse.

Almost smiling.

“You said ‘our dog.’”

“I’m under stress. I also once called a stapler ‘sir’ during a grant deadline. Words cannot be held against me.”

“Are you accepting the offer?” he asks, a little too eager for a man pretending not to care.

“If the offer remains generous.”