He seems to hesitate in walking back inside, and I know I’ve left this giant weird thing hanging between us. He’s normally a big talker. We can hold entire conversations where I say one word to his twenty. It says a lot more now, the fact that he’s holding back.

Lowering my voice and wondering if I’ve lost my mind, I tell him, “Look, if you’re really considering the, uh, the fake boyfriend thing—which I think is a terrible idea, by the way—then we can talk about it later.”

His eyebrows shoot toward his hairline. “Tonight?”

“Sure. I’ll come to your place?”

When he nods in agreement, I’m afraid I’ve already sealed my fate. What am I getting myself into?

As he leans in to give me a hug, I pat his back sort of awkwardly. “Thank you,” he says, pulling back. Then—“Achoo!” He sneezes all over my chest and immediately looks mortified. “Oh god, I’m so sorry! I’m not sick, I swear! It’s these fucking allergies. I’m so gross, I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay,” I assure him, though I’m afraid to look down at my shirt, because it probably is gross. “You’re fine. You’re human, you know.”

“Nope. Not allowed to be.” He laughs like it’s a joke, but something in his tone makes me wonder if he actually believes that, at least a little.

I gesture toward the door to head inside, and he steps through, mumbling, “Freaking spring.”

Making my way back to the inn’s kitchen, I mentally prepare myself to do whatever Brenden asks of me. As if I don’t already. Faking being his boyfriend may be in a wildly different league than helping out here or shoveling his driveway for him, but oh well.

Between his minor meltdown and his slightly red nose from the allergies, he was looking so miserable it made me want to wrap him up in a blanket and keep him protected at all costs.

I swear I don’t have a savior complex or anything. For the most part, I keep my head down and worry about myself. If you let yourself get involved in other people’s problems in this town, it could never end. But for some reason, I can’t resist when it comes to Brenden.

If I stopped long enough to analyze it, I might have to admit my feelings for him go a lot deeper than friendship. Not that I’ve been pining for him all this time. Or if I have, it’s only in the way you might pine after something that you know deep down couldn’t be meant for you.

Brenden is all light and joy and openness, while I’m... closed off, hiding in the shadows with a hint of bitterness.