Maybe, and maybe I’m not really mad at him even if he did post without my permission again, and really, I’m just upset because things have been all kinds of all over the place lately—getting puked on, the massive upsurge in Diary demands since the troll showed up, getting half ghosted by Becca.

And yeah, it’s the last part that stings the worst.

“Noah?”

“Sorry,” I say. “I’m just a little distracted.”

“Something to do with the Diary?” he asks.

“No,” I say, “and to be honest, I don’t think it’s something you can really help with.”

We sit in silence for a little while, and for a moment, I wonder if he hung up. Then he says, “I’m sorry.”

And it’s late, and I have to get up early tomorrow morning to go to work at a job I’m not sure I want, but suddenly I just really want to see him.

“How long is it going to take you to finish that bike?” I ask.

“I just finished, why?”

“Do you want to go stargazing or something? Preferably something super romantic? Um, you know, for the Diary.”

He chuckles and says, “I’ll be over in twenty.”

One thing that’s nice about fake dating an older, cis guy is that we can walk around at night without being worried about someone jumping us. After all, Drew’s close to six feet tall, and while he’s no football player, I don’t doubt he could get a pretty nasty punch in if he tried.

It’s cold as hell, and I don’t realize it until we’re already a few blocks from the apartment. Like a true romance hero, he takes off his jacket and slings it around my shoulders, and I snuggle into the overwhelming smell of his cologne until it makes me dizzy.

“So, where are we going?” I ask.

He shrugs. “No clue. I just figured we could walk until we find something cool.”

But everything’s pretty much closed, so we’re really just enjoying the night. I don’t mind. It’s not like Florida, where mosquitoes swarm every inch of your body if you dare venture out after seven. The air feels cool and dry against my skin, though my breath gets harder and harder to catch with every step.

“You don’t do a lot of hiking, do you?” he asks.

I laugh, shaking my head. “I’m from Florida. The closest we have to a mountain down there is a garbage dump.”

Drew winces. “Gross. You gotta get out more. I’m sure you can find an awesome hiking trail in Cali.”