Page 68 of Not Fooling Anyone

“Oh, yeah. I’m just great.” She’s practically dripping with sarcasm. “I loved walking out of class and seeing her flirt with you.”

“I wasn’t—”

“I’m not saying you did anything wrong.She’sthe problem. She’s going to invite you to a party—where she clearly intends to hook up with you—and then tell me I can’t come? She doesn’t know we’re not really a couple.”

“It’s not like we’re actually going to the party.”

“Oh, no. We’re going.”

I blink at her vehemence. We are?

“I’m so sick of freaking Savannahs thinking they can have whoever they want. That they can do whatever they want.”

Are we still talking about Savannah the person? Or people in general?

“Well, she can’t have you,” she declares. “You’re mine.”

She lets go of my arm, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, eyes wide as she turns to me. “You know what I mean,” she backtracks. “Fake mine.”

I simply watch her. My first instinct is to tease her for her slip up, but I also don’t want to make light of it. I like what she said. Really like it.

“I don’t think you’re mine, Ethan.” Desperation bleeds into her voice, like she needs me to believe it.

I’d be yours if you let me.

I can’t say that to her, though. Based on her reaction just now, she’d run as fast as she could.

“I know you don’t think that.” She’s made it crystal clear.

We walk in silence toward my car, the tension between us thick. As I open the passenger door for her, she finally looks at me. “Are you mad?” she whispers.

Not mad, just… disappointed, I guess. “Why would I be mad?”

“Because I used you. Again. And I said we’d go to the party, right after I yelled at you the other week for making a decision for me.”

She thinks I’m mad over that?

I reach out to her, enfolding her in my arms, glad when she complies without resistance. “I’ll go anywhere you want to go. Do anything you want to do. Don’t worry about me.”

She grips the sides of my shirt. “It’s like I become this awful, petty person whenever I’m around her.”

“You’re allowed to be petty. She was rude as hell to you.”

Her shoulders drop, the tension in them loosening. “I’m sorry I kissed you.”

I’m not. “Lexie, I understand. If you wanted to make her jealous, I’d say mission accomplished.” I just wish she wanted to do it for another reason. “And honestly, it would make sense if we greeted each other like that all the time. That’s what a real couple would do.”

I hold my breath, curious as to how she’ll respond, but she only makes a noncommittal noise. Not an agreement, but not a denial either. That’s progress, right?

“We should get over to the dorms,” she says, extracting herself from my hold.

I savor the feel of her in my arms for one last moment, letting her go and closing the door behind her as she gets in.

“What’s this?” she asks when I get in and start the car, holding up the bag that was in her seat.

“For you. I already had my half earlier.”

Her brows knit as she cautiously looks inside, pulling out half of a sub sandwich.