Page 65 of I Think He Knows

I open the passenger door for her, and she scrambles in, hiking her dress up as she does so. “Damn thing might look good but I forgot to check if I could sit in it,” she mutters with a laugh.

But I can’t reply because my mouth is full of sawdust looking at the smooth, tan thigh that’s currently on show through the dress’s deep leg slit.

Lan follows my eyes and hastily rearranges her dress. “Oops, sorry.”

I quickly (reluctantly) avert my eyes from those long, slim legs of hers. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I forgot you were myfakewife there for a moment.”

She grins. “Well you’re very good at getting into character.”

Like I need to get into character right now.

“Let’s just hope that I never have to play a serial killer.” I grin back. “Pizza Face Returns.”

Her laugh fills the air as I duck around to the driver’s side of the Jeep. Inside, the smell of her perfume is headier, and the air is thick with an unspoken tension that my Pizza Face joke didn’t seem to lessen.

“Needing any help getting into character yourself?” I turn the keys in the ignition and the Jeep sputters reluctantly to life.Pretend everything’s normal and everything will be.

“Definitely. I’m pretty concerned about how I could ever pretend to be in love with a handsome, rich, funny movie star.”

“Quite the difficult assignment,” I reply. “Would it help if I give you my character’s backstory?”

A smile. “Maybe. And if this is going to be a romance worth its salt, it’s going to need a meet-cute and a grand gesture.”

I turn out of Lana’s cul-de-sac and lean back in my seat. Inside, my heart is pounding, but on the outside, I’m fully calm and composed. No cracks in the façade.

“Well, what if Carter—my character in this fake engagement romance, by the way—met his best friend Lana Mae at a frat party a decade ago and he thought that she was the prettiest girl he’d ever met. And then, she called him insufferable and he couldn’t believe his luck: she was funny too! Carter wasn’t deterred by her insults though, and was confident that he could win her over because, at nineteen years old, he already had serious game.”

“Did he now?”

“Totally. He had a shared room in a frat house with this awesome tiny twin bed that was too small for him and sheets that definitely weren’t changed enough. Wore excellent quantities of Axe body spray. Had an affinity for cheap keg beer.”

“Wow, how could Lana—she’s my character—not have loved him? He sounds like such a catch.”

“I know.” I flick my eyes sideways at her and she’s laughing, like this really is a made-up story and not an account of the whole truth. “He even had this gross old Jeep with duct-taped door handles. Can you imagine?”

Lana runs her hand over the duct tape on the passenger door handle. “Ah! There’s the dealbreaker. Never trust a man with duct tape on his car.”

“Or anywhere about his person, one would think.” I look over as I say this, and our eyes catch long enough for us to share a goofy smile.

“So what happened after Carter showed Lana his A-game and attempted to woo her with his duct-taped Jeep?” she asks.

I breathe out slowly. “Life got in the way. Lana wasn’t in a place to date, so Carter respected this boundary. They became friends instead. Best friends. Until years later, when Lana finally started dating again and Carter begged her to give him a chance. Plot twist: she turned out to be head over heels for Carter too, and she said yes. He seized his opportunity and put a ring on it ASAP.”

I pull up to a red light in time to hear her sharp intake of breath. My palms become clammy.

“Ha,” Lana says, fiddling with the clasp on her bag. When she finally turns to look at me, her neck and chest are flushed and her breathing is labored.

Just like it was when she shivered at my touch in the kitchen after our first engagement party.

Just like it was when she peeked at me in my underwear this morning, face beetroot red behind her shaky hands.

The spark of hope that’s been flickering in me ignites.

Because all these things I’m finally letting myself feel for the first time in years? I’m starting to wonder if she might feel them, too.

22

LANA MAE