“When you’re cooking, absolutely.”
Eric moves towards me again, his face coming to rest against my shoulder. I hold him against me for a few minutes.
“It’ll all be okay,” I reassure him.
He nods. “Mr. Quinn?”
“Mmm?”
“Don’t fall in love with me, okay?”
I never thought this thing could be so dangerous – mainly because I never thought I’d let it get so far.
“Only if you promise me you won’t fall in love with me.”
Eric sighs heavily, his hot breath seeping through my T-shirt.
“Agreed.”
* * *
AFTER BREAKFAST,WE GOT DRESSED and left our not-so-little love nest to head into Howth to go food shopping. It’s still early, even though we lingered on breakfast. It was nice. Eric chatted about the menu he’s thought up, about how he’s going to make every dish. I listened, genuinely interested.
I like him.
I like everything he says, how he says it. I like everything he does. I especially like how he kisses me, how he touches me. I like my fake boyfriend in a way I can’t hide, and I’m scared that he’s noticed. Otherwise he’d never have made me that request.
“Have you ever been to Howth Market?” Eric asks as we park the car.
“No. I actually only think I’ve been here a few times as a kid.”
“I love it here.” We get out of the car and wrap our coats more tightly around our bodies. It’s going to be a cold day, maybe with snow. In my heart, I’m praying for a white Christmas Eve: it would be so inappropriately romantic, so inevitably devastating, that I know I could never recover. But you only live once, right? And I’ve decided to just live this very moment, to think later about what will happen to me without him.
“Will we grab a coffee or a hot chocolate first?” Eric asks, standing in front of a café.
“We’ve just had breakfast.”
“It’s cold. This will warm us up.”
I know another way we could fight the cold, but I think it would be best to opt for a hot drink instead.
“What do you want?” Eric asks when we’re in front of the counter.
“A latte, please.”
“One latte and one hot chocolate with cream, please,” he asks the barista.
“A hot chocolate guy? I’d never have guessed,” I comment.
The corner of Eric’s mouth lifts into a smile. “What kind of guy did you think I was?”
Certainly not one I could fall in love with. The response is on the tip of my tongue, but I just smile instead.
“A black, sugarless coffee kind of guy.”
Eric laughs and grabs our drinks, nodding over to the exit. He hands me my latte and I thank him as we walk towards the town market, side by side.
“Are you sure you want to do this with me?”
