“I feel like I’m on unsteady ground right now, like a cat trying to stand up in a moving vehicle,” I admit. “I want to make sure I’m not going to mess this up.”
He shakes his head. “Where’s your confidence?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
He laughs a full and genuine sound that carves a reciprocating smile on my face. “I’m serious. I’m going to help you find your confidence and then bolster the hell out of it.”
“I have confidence,” I tell him.
He nods. “I know you do. But you seem kind of jittery this year.”
“I’m not nervous. I’m … stuck.”
“Stuck?” He asks
“I feel like I need to push myself out of my comfort bubble.”
Pax claps and rubs his hands together. “I can help with that.” Another devious smile, this one touches his eyes, expanding his pupils.
“Nothing overly crazy,” I clarify.
“All right, rule four. I need you to attend all of my home games and go out to celebrate afterward.”
I reach for my pen and write it down as I finish chewing my garlic knot.
“I’ll cook you dinner every Monday.”
I pause and look at him. “You’re going to cook me dinner?”
“Rae works late, and you burn water. Plus, we’re going to need to hang out and learn a little about each other and figure out how things are going.”
“Like a business meeting?”
He smiles a lopsided grin. “A little less formal. I won’t expect you in business casual attire.”
“Is that really a rule, though?”
Paxton nods. “Add it. I do best when I have clear directives and goals.” He watches as I write each letter of our fifth rule.
“But, if you want to start casting your own shadow and break out of your bubble, you’re going to have to hang out with me on campus and go do things with me outside of school where people can see you and get to know you. You’re funny as hell, and you’re cute. Guys will like you and want to date you, and your friend circle is going to explode. You’re a cool chick.”
My stomach does something funny at his choice of words. Society dictates that you’re either hot or cute. Cute is someone’s little sister. Cute is the nice girl who guys want to be friends with but don’t fight for. “Is that really going to help though? I mean, you kind of ditched me at the bonfire last weekend.”
He flinches. “That was a dick move. It was just a bad night after a bad game and I wasn’t thinking. Next party, I’ll be stapled to your side.”
“I don’t need you to be stapled to my side, I just don’t want to drive forty minutes for a bad kiss or hang out somewhere by myself.”
His blue gaze meets mine. “I was an asshole. I’m sorry. I will get better, I promise.”
“These rules will help us. This way we know the expectations and goals.” I straighten my notebook so I don’t have to continue looking at the sincerity in his stare. “What about other parties that come up that are unrelated to football? Rae’s birthday is this weekend, so we’ll go together because we know everyone, but what about other events?”
“We go together,” he says. “Everywhere except for family events. That’s another perk of fake dating—we don’t have to endure that train wreck.”
I’m grateful for this clause since I know his parents, and pretending in front of them would not only be nearly impossible but incredibly awkward.
“And we should probably keep some tabs on each other. Not like stalking, but just so I know if you’re going on vacation or decide to try Buddhism or something, so I don’t come across as twenty-four cents short of a quarter,” he says.
I snicker. “Daily updates?”
He shrugs, reaching for his pizza. “That should work, right?”
“And we do this exclusively,” I say. “If you decide to start dating Candace again or anyone else, there will be absolutely no judgment or questions on my behalf. You are welcome to do you. You just have to let me know and give me ten days before you move on.”
“Ten days?”
I shrug. “A week isn’t quite enough for the rumor mill to finish, and two weeks might make them think we’ll get back together.”
“Deal.”
I finish my slice of pizza, and though I feel too full, I want another. “I have to get going,” I tell him, glancing at my watch. “I have a class in thirty minutes.” I begin gathering my garbage.
“Sure. Okay. How do you feel about the rules?”
“I might need some time to think of any amendments or clarifications. Details like not calling me a nag.”
His brow lowers with a hint of offense. “I’m not going to call you a nag.”
“I know. I just was providing it as an example.”
Pax stands as I do and looks over at Dominic. “I’ll be right back,” he says, pointing at our table.
Dominic nods in reply. “I’ll watch your stuff.”
My heart beats unevenly as I realize Paxton intends to walk me out. Though I know it’s only to be polite, it creates a new list in my thoughts, this one of attributes and gestures I hope to find in my future boyfriend. When I was not-dating Chase last year, he’d fall asleep almost every time we hung out, leaving me to walk to my car alone. Every time Pax and I have hung out, he’s walked me to my car.
Pax looks at the sky as we stop at my car. The sky is muted, dark gray clouds making it appear much later than it is. “I’ll text you, and we can work out plans for the party on Friday.”
I nod, feeling that restless, unknown feeling creep through me again. Do we hug? Shake hands? Kiss? “Sounds good.”
One side of his mouth lifts with a knowing smile, and he pulls me into a loose hug that reminds me of the few hugs we’ve shared in the past, lacking all sense of intimacy. “We should probably figure this part out. We’re going to have to act
