Too Friendly to Date

Though it might have something to do with the way he went about dating. Like a mission. A to-do list to get to his wanted destination. Family.

Which was none of her business. Fake relationship or no. Especially since “family” wasn’t something she’d ever be able to offer anyone.

“You know, if we’ve been dating a year they’re going to expect us to actually, oh, I don’t know, touch each other. Possibly even sleep together.”

Her face burned. So embarrassing. “I don’t think my devoutly Catholic mother is going to be concerning herself with our sex life.”

He walked toward her, tucking the notebook in his front pocket. “‘Our sex life.’ Weirder words I’m not sure have ever been spoken.”

“No shit.” Leah tucked her hands into her armpits, hugging herself close. They were alone and this was weird with a capital W.

“So, you know, speaking of our sex life, how do you see that going?”

He was joking and grinning, but the proximity meant she was having a hard time getting that through to her brain. Actually, not so much her brain as her sorely neglected libido.

Leah took a breath and summoned all the unaffectedness she could muster. “Why are guys so gross?”

“After cleaning up your house, you do not get to talk to me about gross.”

Fair enough. “You’re not doing anything to this room, Jacob. I’m blocking it off. We’ve been too busy building MC to work on my place. Got it?”

He made a considering sound in his throat and then left the room. Damn it, she hated when he did that. The no-answer thing meant he was going to do something stupid.

Well, it couldn’t be any stupider than her asking him to be her fake boyfriend.

* * *

JACOB KNEW HE should leave with everyone else, talk to Leah about this situation somewhere...safe. But there really was no time like the present.

He plopped himself onto her newly-cleaned-up couch. “So, we ever going to talk details about this whole fake-relationship thing?”

Her whole body visibly stiffened, and then she rolled her shoulders. “Yeah. Sure. I just...”

“You remember this being your idea? You begged me to agree to it.”

Some of her tension morphed into irritation, which was exactly what he’d been going for. “I did not beg.”

“Pretty sure the word please was used.”

“Begging and being polite are two different things. Can we talk about this some other time? When I’m not exhausted and covered in dirt.”

She did look tired. Pale, and there was a weird rasp to her voice. He noticed she got that whenever she’d been working particularly hard.

But he also knew if he left, she’d keep working. There was no quit in Leah. “You know me. I like a plan. Blueprint. Details. Fill me in.”

“Right. Right.” She pulled the cuffs of her shirt down, then pushed them back up to her elbows. And then repeated the process two more times.

He wasn’t used to nervous, unsure Leah. It was fascinating. Something he wanted to poke at. “Where was our first date?”

She glowered at him. “What?”

“How did I ask you out? What do you love about me?” He grinned, knowing it would irritate and fluster her more.

“What does that matter?”

“You don’t think your mom might be curious as to how we started dating? What you see in me, besides my good looks, that is.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it and rubbed a hand to her chest.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Look, my family won’t care about that, and if they do I’ll make something up.”

“You’ve obviously never pulled off an elaborate hoax before. Or seen a romantic comedy.” She made a face and didn’t stop rubbing her chest. “Leah, what is up with you?”

“Nothing,” she snapped. “Can’t you just go away? We can talk about this some other time.”

“No time like the present.” He certainly wasn’t going to leave when it looked as though something was wrong with her. Maybe she was coming down with a cold. He was about to offer to run and get her some soup or something when she abruptly turned away.

“Give me a second.” She disappeared down the hallway, so pale and strange-sounding he couldn’t fight the impulse to follow where she went.

The door to her room was cracked open and he looked in as she took a deep breath with an inhaler to her mouth. He’d seen her use it once or twice, but had never given it much thought.

He nudged the door open wider. “You okay?”

“Does privacy mean nothing to you?” She took a deep breath, then another puff of the inhaler, all the while glowering at him.

But she was so damn pale and he’d never seen her so shaky. So, instead of backing off like she obviously wanted him to do, he plopped on the bed next to her. “So, the answer to my question would be no.”

“I’m fine.” She inched away from him. “Please, don’t push.” Then she coughed, and it came out all wheezy and awful-sounding. He thumped her back and took her hand, about five seconds from calling an ambulance.

She gulped air and he rubbed her back. Obviously something was really wrong if she wasn’t pushing him away. “I’m going to call 9-1-1.”

She grabbed his arm before he could stand up. “No way in hell.” With her free hand she took another puff of the inhaler. “Don’t you dare move.”

“Hey, look at me because you’re starting to freak me out.”

She looked him square in the eye, those pretty green-blue eyes fierce and determined. “I’m fine,” she said firmly, but she was trembling. “It’s asthma, Jacob. Had it all my life.”

“I’m getting you some water.” She released his arm and he hurried out to the kitchen and returned with a glass of water. She was still pale, but her breathing had eased.

“Do not look at me like that.” She snatched the glass of water out of his hand, and when he sat next to her again, she inched away.

But she drank the water and slowly stopped looking so gray. She wasn’t trembling anymore and her breathing seemed easier. “Don’t look at you like what?”

“Like I’m dying. I’m not. Go home. Please.”

She was squeezing the glass so tight it was a wonder it didn’t break, but there was no way he was going home. He covered her hand with his, but before he could say something, she gave him that direct look again.