Fuck. Why does it feel so good to hear him say that?

Since I’m not good at handling emotions, I awkwardly mumble my thanks. Then I ask what else he wants in a boyfriend, in the hopes of steering the conversation back to less vulnerable territory. Less vulnerable for me, at least.

And maybe he senses my need for levity, because he says, “Rock hard abs and at least eight inches.” Then the little fucker winks at me.

I can’t help it, I burst out laughing. He’s never said something that obscene to me before. Luckily, the shock of it made it funny, rather than a turn on.

As I calm down, I tell him, “While I may be able to provide that, I don’t think it’s something I can display in front of Elise and Grant.”

His blue eyes flash darker for a second, and I replay my own words. Shit. Am I flirting?

Quickly, I move past the talk about dicks and add, “So how about something that helps me illustrate to them how much I care about you? As your fake boyfriend, I mean.”

“Let’s see...” He twists the extra material of his pillowcase between his fingers. “Is it super self-centered if I say I want a boyfriend who totally adores me?”

I adore you.

“Not at all,” I reply, holding in my first thought. “You deserve that.”

“It’s just that I’ve always put all my focus on being a good dad for May. So if I’m going to give someone else part of my focus, I want to know that it’s worth it. I need to know that they really want to be around.” He nudges the back of my hand with his knuckle, and I realize I haven’t taken it off his knee yet, so I reluctantly do that. “But don’t worry, Elise and Grant don’t seem suspicious about us. I think they’ll buy this thing without you having to pretend to fawn over me. In fact, you doing that would probably be hilarious and just blow our cover, because fawning doesn’t fit your whole Grumptopus vibe at all.”

I pretend to be offended, though he’s not exactly wrong. “Hey, I could fawn.”

He gives me a look like he’s fighting to keep a straight face, and then he laughs. “Sure. Right. I totally buy that.”

“I could,” I argue. Because now, inexplicably, I feel the need to prove it to him. To prove I could be the kind of boyfriend he wants. And actually, I’m pretty sure I fawn over him all the time in my head. It’s just the doing it openly part that would likely be hard for me.