“I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time,” I say, smiling as I recall Henry sticking his whole arm in a toilet to retrieve a hidden key. The look of disgust on his face was priceless and worth every penny. “I know how hard it can be to put yourself out there. You and Derek are awesome.”

“How long have you and Henry been dating? Probably a couple years, I’m guessing?” Annabelle asks.

There wasn’t a lot of time for small talk during our quest for freedom, and certainly not enough to exchange pleasantries like dating history or meet-cute stories.

“We’re not a couple,” I say, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.

“Oh. Friends with benefits?”

I snort, shaking my head. “Nope.”

“I like you too much for you to be having an affair with a married man. Please don’t tell me that’s the case.”

I laugh. “No! No one is cheating! We work together and I’m kind of helping him with a project. I’m going to be his fake girlfriend next weekend at a family event. Tonight was a trial run to see how well we mesh outside the office.”

“You could’ve fooled me! I don’t think you have anything to worry about. I thought you were together this whole time. It’s totally believable. The sweet glances he kept tossing your way? Ugh, it melted my heart!”

“What are you talking about?” I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary from Henry.

“When you figured out a clue, his eyes got all bright and he positively beamed,” she gushes. “He was so proud. But also not surprised? Like, he knew you would be the one to figure it out and still wanted to celebrate you.”

“Oh,” is all I can whisper, skin too tight on my body. It prickles with awareness at Annabelle’s observation. Was he really that blatant in his nonverbal affection? I wish I could have seen it for myself so I could categorize every grin, every visible groove of the dip of his dimple, every alleged awed expression. “Henry’s a charismatic person. I’m sure it doesn’t mean anything.”

She gives me a look, sensing my deflection. “You’re probably right. You know him better than I do! Anyway, it was so great to meet you, Emma. Good luck next weekend!”

Henry and Derek stroll up to us from where they were chatting off to the side, shaking hands.

“Ready, Zebra Cakes?” Henry asks, smiling down at me.

I become weak in the knees with the quirk of his lips.

How have I survived so long, immune to his charm, when it’s staring me straight in the face, practically mocking me and reducing me to a puddle on the pavement?

“Yeah,” I answer, returning his smile enthusiastically. “I am.”