Page 42 of Pretend for Me

Sixty-one across: A vegetable in miso soup.Enoki.

Forty-four down: Section of Italian sonnet.Sestet.

And just to irritate him further, I’d alsorearrangedhis color-coded hardbacks on the shelves and placed his neatly stacked coffee cups in the cupboard below the coffee machine where he usually kept all the extra coffee supplies. I realized this was also going to annoy his housekeeper, Suzanna, but we’d recently become friends. When I tell her about it later, she’ll likely appreciate someone loosening Dev’s belt a little.

Speaking of loosening his belt . . .

God, I still can’t believe what I asked him in his car on the way to his parents’ place.

“Hello? Earth to Piper,” Sarina says, jolting me out of my musings. She eyes me curiously. “Why are your cheeks all red?”

“Yeah, you look like one of those red-faced spider monkeys,” Nisha adds, because of course she does.

Joshua, who has rejoined us, and Sarina chuckle as I roll my eyes at Nisha. “I swear, no one does compliments like you, Neesh. Have you considered a career in inspirational speaking?”

“But, seriously, why are you so,” Joshua waves his finger in my face, moving past my question to Nisha, “pink?”

I take a long breath, knowing they won’t drop it until I tell them. “I asked Dev to—” I wave my hand around, hoping one of them can fill in the rest without me having to spell it out, but clearly, my friends are playing dumb. “I asked Dev to fuck me.”

“What?!”Nisha blurts right as Sarina lifts her hand to high-five me with a, “Yeah!” and Joshua looks like he’s lost his brows somewhere inside his hair.

I shrug, feigning nonchalance. “Look, neither of us knows the exact amount of time we’re in this. Yes, the doctors havegiven their prognosis, but God willing, Claire will live longer than their estimates, you know?” I look at my friends’ faces for understanding. “And given neither Dev nor I will be with anyone else during that time, I suggested that we be with each other. Strictly physical, of course.”

Sarina and Nisha exchange those sisterly looks I hate so much but can decipher now that I’ve known them forever.

“What did he say?” Sarina asks, her tone a mix of curiosity and concern.

I think back to our conversation in his car before my dad’s text interrupted us. Deciding to omit the details of his text, knowing it will just worry my friends, I stick to the essential part of the truth. “He didn’t.”

“He didn’t, what? He didn’t say anything?” Joshua clarifies.

I nod. “Yeah, he went so silent, I thought I’d pushed an off button on him or something.”

After the emotional night we had last night, I decided the ride back wasn’t the time to bring it up again. Though I know I need to soon, if only to address the awkwardness. And given the man practically ran to his office to hide the second we got home, there’s definitely awkwardness to be addressed.

Part of me feels a little stupid for even asking, given he looked like he’d frozen in time or something.

Maybe he’s conveniently forgotten it even occurred.

One can only hope.

“Piper—” Nisha starts when I interrupt her.

“I know what you’re going to say. That it would be a bad idea to get into a physical relationship with someone, knowing there is an end date to this. That it might complicate things further if he started developing feelings for me or something. But I’d already considered all that before I proposed it.”

Nisha squints at me. “Justhim? What if you develop feelings for him?”

“Pssh.” I wave my hand dismissively. “You know that’s not going to happen. My rules are clear for that exact reason. They’re ironclad and?—”

“Oh God, you and your stupidironcladrules,” she interjects with an eye roll that seems to take a full minute. “Would it be so bad if you did fall for a man for a change?”

I gasp so loud, I choke on my own spit. “Have you lost your bobby pins!? Of course it would be bad if I fell for him!” I squeak out, feeling out of breath. I won’t admit that part of the shortness of breath has something to do with me envisioning what she’s suggested and . . . finding it mildly appealing.

I shake my head vehemently, forcing myself out of the thought. “That wouldn’t just be bad, it would beterrible! My rules are there for this exact reason!” I repeat. “It’s why I state them upfront for all parties involved, and why I follow them to a T, so no one gets hurt.”

“And what are these rules?” Joshua asks curiously.

He’s been working with us for a year, but I realize I’ve never discussed my rules with him before. My girlfriends, however? They could probably recite them backwards and in interpretive dance form.

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