Page 13 of My Fearless Fake Fling

Both pillows rested one on top of the other against the arm of the long, deep sofa. I sat down as directed, folding my legs under me.

He draped the blanket over me, even tucking it under my chin. Snuggly. “Be right back.”

You’d think it would be awkward, me tucked like a little kid and not even a television on, but he made me feel so comfortable, it forced any residual awkwardness out.

After only a minute, he came back from his bedroom dressed similarly to me in drawstring jammies and a T-shirt. Instead of coming to me, he walked into the kitchen.

The sound of spoons clinking against glass or stoneware bowls drifted into the living room. Less than ten minutes more he walked back out with a tray covered with two Fiestaware-esqe bowls filled to overflowing with ice cream, hot fudge, nuts, whipped cream, and even double maraschino cherries on top because everyone knows maraschino cherries are the best part of a hot fudge sundae.Boom!Mic drop.

“Hands up,” he ordered. “Palms out.”

Oh…kay. I followed directions, putting my hands up, palms out. He set the tray on my open hands before tuning to pick up the remote. He flipped the cover up, plopped down next to me, and flipped them back over the both of us. Still not taking the tray, I might add.

Although not heavy, my arms strained, not being used to holding anything in this way.

“Hello?” I said.

He glanced over but didn’t answer.

“Uh, the tray?”

“You’ve got it.” Rather than taking the tray, he turned on the television, bringing up the guide, scrolling through the on-demand movies as if he had all the time in the world. Finding what he wanted, he pressed theselectbutton and finally—finally—took the tray from me.

Lucky for him, I found out about his amazing sundae-making abilities or he might have been destroyed.

The title of the movie came up on screen and I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

Jump Squad.A movie about pararescuers. After the day I’d had, I couldn’t deal with this. Could. Not.

Len turned to say something to me. “Jesus, Kam. Breathe, sweetheart.” I didn’t think that was what he’d intended to say. He took my bowl and set it on the coffee table, immediately pulling me onto his lap. “What’s wrong?”

“PJs,” I managed to utter against his neck.

“What about them?”

“I can’t.My brother.Harrison… They—I can’t.” Then the waterworks started. Despite the crippling cowardice that kept my brother and his best friend to the forefront of my mind, I actually tried on a daily basisnotto think about them by name, as this always ended up the result.

“Okay… okay. We’ll watch something else.” He quickly turned off the movie, opting instead for a Kristen Bell comedy. “You wanna talk about it?’

“No,” I said, shaking my headyes.

He chuckled, but it sounded uncomfortable. “Give me something to work with, fearless.”

“That’s just it—I’m not fearless. I stopped being fearless a few years ago.”

“I got that.”

“No, you don’t.” I hiccupped. “My brother died. My brother and his best friend, Harrison, died because I confused fearless with reckless.”

He waited me out, waited for me to continue, squeezing my hip for reassurance.

“I had a crush on Harrison,” I said.

Lennon’s arms tensed around me.

“One night my stupid teenaged brain thought I should kiss him and maybe he’d want to go out with me. All it did was make him uncomfortable around me.”

“So you had a crush. People have crushes.”

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