to me.” I swallow thickly. “How much I’m starting to care about you.”
Talia’s lips curl upward into a bemused expression. “Wow. And you said that with a straight face and everything. You’re getting so good at this it’s starting to scare me.”
It’s starting to scare me too.
“But how will you bring it up?” Talia speaks low, bringing her face close to mine. “You can’t exactly ask her if she thinks we’re faking. Then she’ll know we are.”
I can’t help it. She’s so close that I have to touch her. Reaching out, I skim my fingers along her jawline. It takes all my willpower not to kiss her. But there’s no way I’d do that right in the middle of her family room when her parents could walk in any minute. In the past I didn’t care what my girlfriend’s parents thought of me. In fact, I was pretty certain Emmy’s didn’t like me that much. So why is it so important to me that Talia’s parents like me? Especially since she’s not my real girlfriend.
As I stare into her eyes, my gaze taking in her smooth face and full lips, I realize it’s because I want her to be.
I want Talia to be my girlfriend.
Not in a fake way. But in a real way.
“I won’t have to ask her anything.” I drop my hand from her face, afraid to keep touching her. Afraid if I don’t stop now I never will. “By the end of tonight, there will be no doubt in her mind that this relationship is real.”
“Thanks.” Talia nods, a trusting look filling her face. “You know, you’ve been really cool lately.” I smile, grateful that she’s noticed. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were a pretty sweet guy.”
“Who says I’m not?” I raise one eyebrow.
“History,” she states, and my face falls.
“People change, Tals,” I say, before I can stop myself. By the look on her face, I know that using that nickname ruined it all.
She snorts. “Yep, but they usually don’t.”
“Dinner’s ready,” Talia’s mom calls from the doorway of the kitchen.
Talia stands, a look of relief passing over her features. My heart sinks. Somehow I have to make her see that this isn’t an act. That I’m not the terrible guy she thinks I am. As we head toward the dining table, I know how to do that.
To say that Talia is shocked when I scoot her chair out for her would be an understatement. I’d laugh if I wasn’t working so hard to prove I’m a gentleman. From across the table I catch the subtle nod and smile from her dad. At least someone is impressed with me.
“So, Josh, how is the spring season going so far?” Mr. Smith asks, once we are all seated. Me next to Talia, Anna across from us, and Talia’s parents flanking the ends.
The scent of marinara sauce and cheese wafts from my plate. A second ago I couldn’t wait to dig into my lasagna, but now that Mr. Smith brought up baseball, my stomach churns. “Not so great.”
Talia throws me a look, and I know what she’s worried about. The season has been a sore subject for me lately. But I smile to show her I won’t lose my cool.
“Talia says you’ve been playing great,” her dad offers, and I’m grateful he threw me a bone. Not just grateful to him, but grateful to Talia too. I gently nudge her in the side.
“I don’t know about that,” I say. “I haven’t played terrible, but I haven’t done my best either.” I pause. “But the truth is, our team is just struggling without Cal and Chris.” It’s not something I like to admit. In fact, I haven’t admitted it to anyone yet. Not until this very moment. But it’s the truth, and there’s no sense denying it. Besides, it’s not like Talia doesn’t already know. She’s been to our first two games.
“It’s early in the season. I’m sure you guys will pull it together,” Mr. Smith says.
“Yeah, they will,” Talia agrees, reaching over and patting me on the back. Our gazes lock and I flash her a genuine smile. When she tosses one back, my heart flips in my chest. Around me I
Talia’s lips curl upward into a bemused expression. “Wow. And you said that with a straight face and everything. You’re getting so good at this it’s starting to scare me.”
It’s starting to scare me too.
“But how will you bring it up?” Talia speaks low, bringing her face close to mine. “You can’t exactly ask her if she thinks we’re faking. Then she’ll know we are.”
I can’t help it. She’s so close that I have to touch her. Reaching out, I skim my fingers along her jawline. It takes all my willpower not to kiss her. But there’s no way I’d do that right in the middle of her family room when her parents could walk in any minute. In the past I didn’t care what my girlfriend’s parents thought of me. In fact, I was pretty certain Emmy’s didn’t like me that much. So why is it so important to me that Talia’s parents like me? Especially since she’s not my real girlfriend.
As I stare into her eyes, my gaze taking in her smooth face and full lips, I realize it’s because I want her to be.
I want Talia to be my girlfriend.
Not in a fake way. But in a real way.
“I won’t have to ask her anything.” I drop my hand from her face, afraid to keep touching her. Afraid if I don’t stop now I never will. “By the end of tonight, there will be no doubt in her mind that this relationship is real.”
“Thanks.” Talia nods, a trusting look filling her face. “You know, you’ve been really cool lately.” I smile, grateful that she’s noticed. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were a pretty sweet guy.”
“Who says I’m not?” I raise one eyebrow.
“History,” she states, and my face falls.
“People change, Tals,” I say, before I can stop myself. By the look on her face, I know that using that nickname ruined it all.
She snorts. “Yep, but they usually don’t.”
“Dinner’s ready,” Talia’s mom calls from the doorway of the kitchen.
Talia stands, a look of relief passing over her features. My heart sinks. Somehow I have to make her see that this isn’t an act. That I’m not the terrible guy she thinks I am. As we head toward the dining table, I know how to do that.
To say that Talia is shocked when I scoot her chair out for her would be an understatement. I’d laugh if I wasn’t working so hard to prove I’m a gentleman. From across the table I catch the subtle nod and smile from her dad. At least someone is impressed with me.
“So, Josh, how is the spring season going so far?” Mr. Smith asks, once we are all seated. Me next to Talia, Anna across from us, and Talia’s parents flanking the ends.
The scent of marinara sauce and cheese wafts from my plate. A second ago I couldn’t wait to dig into my lasagna, but now that Mr. Smith brought up baseball, my stomach churns. “Not so great.”
Talia throws me a look, and I know what she’s worried about. The season has been a sore subject for me lately. But I smile to show her I won’t lose my cool.
“Talia says you’ve been playing great,” her dad offers, and I’m grateful he threw me a bone. Not just grateful to him, but grateful to Talia too. I gently nudge her in the side.
“I don’t know about that,” I say. “I haven’t played terrible, but I haven’t done my best either.” I pause. “But the truth is, our team is just struggling without Cal and Chris.” It’s not something I like to admit. In fact, I haven’t admitted it to anyone yet. Not until this very moment. But it’s the truth, and there’s no sense denying it. Besides, it’s not like Talia doesn’t already know. She’s been to our first two games.
“It’s early in the season. I’m sure you guys will pull it together,” Mr. Smith says.
“Yeah, they will,” Talia agrees, reaching over and patting me on the back. Our gazes lock and I flash her a genuine smile. When she tosses one back, my heart flips in my chest. Around me I
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