“Are there any women members?” I asked, and his mouth turned up into a lopsided grin.

“Yes. Probably half are women,” he answered just as Miss Gorgeous returned with our drinks.

Joseph held his glass of what I assumed was whiskey in the air between us, and I pressed mine against his before we both took a sip.

“Oh, this is delicious,” I said, admiring the giant globe of ice in the middle and the scent of oranges.

“I’m glad you like it.”

I leaned my back into the booth and took another drink. “Did you bring me here to fake dump me?” I blurted out.

Joseph’s eyes bulged. “What? No. Why would you think that?”

“Because your mom called us out tonight. She knows we’re faking.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Does she though?”

Wait, what?

“I mean, she said it. She knows.”

“She thinks she knows. And she tried to scare you off tonight. If we keep doing what we’re doing, then at some point, she’ll have to admit she was wrong,” he explained.

I wasn’t sure if it was the logic or the alcohol, but it all seemed to make perfect sense to me in that moment.

“So, we don’t stop?” I said, my relief permeating every word.

“Not unless you want to.” He leaned over the table again, his hands reaching out for mine. “Do you want to stop?”

“No,” I admitted, and he grinned again. That damn grin. That damn face. I felt vulnerable with what I’d just said, so I asked him the same question. “Do you want to stop?”

“Never,” he said, and I felt my heart jump.

“Don’t say things like that,” I warned.

“Or what?”

“Or I might fall in love with you for real.”

“But you hate me, remember?” he reminded me, and I swallowed the pinprick of hurt that his response elicited inside of me.

“I did. I mean, I do. I mean, I don’t know anymore.” I threw my head into my hands and closed my eyes for a second, wishing I could take back my words because they made me feel stupid.

He looked like he might spit out his drink. Like what I’d just said about falling in love with him for real was the most horrible thing in the world that could happen. But he was the one who had just said he never wanted to stop this thing between us.

Why are men so confusing?

“Have you eaten anything today?” he asked, and it only made me more annoyed.

But I thought back on the entirety of the day, and I’d been so stressed out that I wasn’t sure I had.

“I can’t remember,” I answered honestly, and he gave me a look as if my response explained it all.

He waved a hand, and Miss Gorgeous was back, taking his order with a nod before leaving us alone once more.

“Maybe we should talk about that night,” he suggested.

My first response was to argue with him and make him fight for it, but I acquiesced instead.