15. Adrian

I shut the door to my apartment with one last wave goodbye, then let out a small breath of relief. I had a surprisingly great night despite the anxiety I had going into it. But it was still a lot of socializing and attention focused on me at once, so I'm looking forward to going into hermit mode to recover. Although, that will have to wait a little longer since technically I'm not completely alone yet.

Jamie is still here, having offered to stay behind to help me clean up when Mina said she would walk to the metro with Sophie and Casey. When I turn back around, he's standing a couple feet away, hands in his pockets.

"Doing alright, darlin'?" he asks. When I cock my head in question, he adds, "You're looking a little tired."

"I'm always a little drained after socializing, but I'm fine," I say.

He smiles gently. "Did you have a good night, though?"

Returning his smile, I nod. "Did you?"

"Amazing. I loved getting to know Sophie and Casey. They seem like great friends," he says, taking a few steps toward me.

"So does Mina. It seemed like she and Sophie really hit it off."

"It's almost a little scary how well they got along," he says with a laugh. "Do you think your parents liked me?"

I'm a little surprised at the question, the hesitation in his voice as he asks it. "They adored you," I say honestly.

It's not even a guess. My mom told me as much as they were leaving—this time in an actual whisper, unlike her earlier stage whisper when she commented on Jamie bringing me flowers. It's not surprising. He was extra charming tonight. I don't know how I feel about it, though, seeing as our "relationship" has an expiration date. It would be easier to tell them our eventual breakup if they didn't like him.

"Good," he says with a sigh of relief. "I liked them too. I loved hearing all about your childhood. Speaking of, I still can't believe you didn't tell me you lived in North Carolina for a little while." He pulls a hand out of his pocket and playfully smacks my arm.

"I was six. I don't really remember it," I say, defensively crossing my arms over my chest.

"I'm just teasing you," he says, resting a hand on my crossed forearms and squeezing. "So, what can I do to help clean up?"

There isn't much to do, since we ordered takeout instead of cooking. It only takes about fifteen minutes to clean up the trash and leftovers, load the wine glasses and silverware in the dishwasher, and put the dining room chairs back where they belong. I could have easily done it by myself, but Jamie insisted on staying behind to help. If my parents were still here when he made the offer, I would have thought it was to sell us being a real couple. But by then, it was just Casey, Sophie, and Mina. There was no reason to keep up pretenses, yet he wanted to stay anyway. It was like he wanted an excuse to be alone with me, which makes this whole arrangement feel a little too close to real for comfort.

Once we're done, the reality of this being the first time I've seen him in person since the day I met him for lunch at his office fully hits me. It feels so different in comparison. Then, things had been stiff and awkward. Neither of us really knew how to act around each other under circumstances so vastly different from the ones we first met under. Now, there's a comfortability between us, which is a little terrifying. I've never had that with anyone—or at least anyone I'm attracted to. And I am still attracted to him. I mean, it's kind of hard not to be. He's beautiful, almost more so now that I know him better—now that I know his favorite season is winter, especially in DC because there's actually snow, even though it rarely sticks, and that The West Wing and New Girl are his comfort shows.

"Thank you for your help," I say as we walk back into the living room.

"Of course," he says, turning back to me with his hands in his pockets again. "Although, I should probably admit that I had an ulterior motive to staying behind."

My stomach sinks. Oh God, what could he want?

Before I can ask, he continues. "I have a present of sorts for you, but I didn't want to give it to you in front of everyone."

I frown, but all it does is earn a smirk. "I told you that you didn't need to get me anything. The flowers were already more than enough, really."

Where did he hide a present anyway? All he had when he came in was the bouquet of flowers.

"I know, but—" he shakes his head with a sigh. "Just sit, okay?"

Bracing myself, I make my way to the couch and sit. He follows, but before he sits, he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a folded sheet of paper.

Now, any skepticism is replaced by curiosity as he sits, angled slightly toward me, then hands it to me wordlessly. Carefully, I unfold the page and scan it. The words "congress", "House of Representatives", and "Animal Welfare Act" stand out to me, but otherwise I have no idea what I'm looking at.

"I'm introducing this next week. I didn't think you'd care to read the whole thing, so it's just the title page. But it's a bill to amend the animal welfare act to allow for federal funding to be used for animal rescues," he explains.

"Jamie, this is…"

"I know it won't help get the intake center off the ground right now—although Congresswoman Sanderson is still working on that from the DC government side. But when neither her team nor I could find a federal grant that was available for an organization like District Pets, I fell into a research hole and realized there are so many other rescues across the country trying to do the same thing that are struggling, and well…"

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch him gesturing at the paper. I can't tear my eyes away from it. I don't know what to say. There are so many questions going through my brain about why he did this or what it means that I can't settle on one.

Next to me, his leg bounces a little restlessly. "I can't tell if your silence is a good or a bad thing."

Finally I meet his gaze. "I can't believe you did this. This is so much more than I expected you to do when I asked for your help. I can't…"

His cheeks pink slightly. "Well, there's no guarantee it'll even pass. And if it does, District Pets will still have to apply like any other rescue, which technically I can't help with since—"

"It's not your district. I know. Still, you didn't need to do this just because we're—because I'm…" I huff in frustration, my brain still moving too fast to put proper sentences together.

"I know I didn't need to, but I said I'd help. And it wasn't just me. I have a few co-signers."

He gestures at the page again, and I catch a list of names next to his that I didn't notice before. Still, even with co-signers, this has his fingerprints all over it.

"Plus, after looking at enough sad homeless animals on the internet, I kind of did need to do something. It was either this or adopt a pet that I absolutely do not have time to take care of," he says with a laugh.

I can't help laughing, too. "How do you think I ended up with two cats in a one bedroom apartment?" Then I look down at the page one more time before setting it on the coffee table and turning my full attention to him. "I don't want you to think that I only agreed to help you to get something from you. I know you promised me a favor, but even if you hadn't, I still would have said yes. Honestly, if Casey hadn't been there when Kelly told me about the grant falling through and mentioned my congressman boyfriend, I don't know if I would have even asked you."

His hand covers mine where they're tangled on my lap, and he smiles. "Which is what made me want to help even more. I appreciate you, and not just for going along with this objectively crazy PR scheme. But for being a good person. For talking me through an anxiety spiral, and making me laugh, and texting me pictures of Joseph and Molly when I've had a long day. And since you're apparently not a gift person, this is my way of showing you that."

I'm not sure what comes over me. Maybe it's the fact that he has been touching me in some capacity for the entire night, or that this is probably one of the nicest, most selfless things someone has ever done for me. Either way, before I even realize I'm doing it, my arms are around his back, and I'm pulling him in for a hug.

"Thank you," I mumble.

He hums and squeezes me tight. "You're welcome, darlin'."

Then, his hand comes up to cradle the back of my neck, and I melt into him.

I forgot how good it felt to be wrapped up in his arms, how warm and open he is with his affection. Nothing has ever been like this for me. Sure, I've read about it in books, seen it in the rom-coms Casey makes me watch, but I've never had it myself. I didn't think I needed it. I didn't think it was worth the potential hurt when the other person eventually moved on. But now that I've gotten a glimpse, it's intoxicating. I'm not sure how long we stay in the embrace, but there's a part of me that wants to sink into this for the rest of the night—to let him hold me. But then I remember our boundaries—the ones I insisted on putting into place—and I know I need to put an end to this.

Slowly, I peel myself away from him. "Sorry," I mutter, glancing away as my cheeks heat.

"What for?" he asks, and when I look up, there's a pleased grin on his face.

I shrug and stare down at my lap.

For the second time, his hand covers mine and squeezes. "I'll get out of your hair and let you decompress."

I lift my head and nod, then walk him to the door. "Are you okay to get to the metro by yourself?" I ask, as he bends to slip on his shoes.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," he says, straightening up. "Thanks, though."

I nod, then open the door for him, but before he steps out into the hall, he rests a hand on my elbow and leans in. My breath catches as his lips brush my cheek.

"Happy birthday," he whispers, his breath ghosting across my skin. For a second, I think he's going to do more than kiss me on the cheek, and honestly, I'd probably let him if he did. But he pulls away, shoves his hands in his pockets, and steps into the hall.

"Text me when you get home safe," I blurt, earning a grin.

"Will do. Good night."

"Night," I say, before closing the door, flicking the locks, and sinking against the door like a girl in a bad teen rom-com.

"So, are we going to talk about your birthday party?" Casey asks as he unloads the takeout bag onto his coffee table.

It's Friday night, and we're having one of our semi-regular dinner and co-existing nights. Usually we do these at my place because Casey lives in a shoe-box sized studio so he can save up for a house. But there's a new video game he wants to play, and I don't have a gaming console, so here we are.

I turn my head and furrow my brow. "You mean the one I just had?"

"Yup." He hands me an egg roll, then points his own at me. "Specifically, your boyfriend staying behind once I left with Sophie and Mina."

"Fake boyfriend," I correct.

"Didn't look all that fake from where I was sitting," he says, then he smirks. "Darlin'."

I scowl at him. "Okay, one, shut up."

He grins and takes a bite of his egg roll.

"Two, your Southern accent needs work, and three, of course it didn't look fake. We had to convince my parents it was real." I turn my attention back to our Chinese food, opening a pair of chopsticks so I can dig into my lo mein straight out of the carton.

"Yet, you both continued to be all cozied up after they left," he points out.

I shift on the small leather couch, making it squeak as I get comfortable. "I think he"s just an affectionate person."

He uses his chopsticks to pop a dumpling into his mouth and chews for a few moments. "Okay, but don't think I missed the ‘baby', or the way he stayed behind to help clean up."

"That's just how he is. It's that Southern charm," I say, although I know I'm just grasping at straws.

"Or, it was just an excuse to be alone with you."

I don't know why I'm even bothering trying to avoid talking about this. Casey always sees right through me, anyway. And to tell the truth, I think I want to talk about it. I've been flustered all week after the party, between how affectionate Jamie was the whole night, the bill, and the moment we had at my door, I've been off-balanced.

I sigh and stab my chopsticks into the carton. "Okay fine it was but only because he had a birthday present for me, and I told him how I hate opening gifts in front of people."

Casey scoffs. "Sophie and I aren't allowed to get you gifts but your ‘fake' boyfriend is?"

"I told him not to," I say sheepishly.

"Well what was it?" he asks.

"It wasn't so much a gift as it was…. I don't really know what to call it to be honest." I glance down at my lo mein sitting in my lap. "He drafted a bill to allow for funding from the animal welfare act to be allocated to animal rescues. He said it was because he promised to help when I asked him about the intake center for District Pets, but it's way beyond what I expected from him for that."

I lift my head to see his slightly bewildered expression.

"No kidding," he says with a shake of his head. "Adrian, he likes you."

"Well, I figured that given that he slept with me," I deadpan.

"That's not what I mean and you know it," he says, unamused. "He likes you. He cares about you and not just in a friend way."

"Yeah I know, and I think you're right. We kind of had a… moment."

He cocks his head to let me know to continue.

"I kind of thought he was going to kiss me as he was leaving," I say before frowning a little. "Well I guess he technically did, but it was just on the cheek."

"Did you want him to kiss you for real?" he asks carefully.

"I think I did," I admit. I groan and tip my head back to rest on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. "What is wrong with me?"

"Nothing."

"I'm developing some sort of feelings for someone who is supposed to be my fake boyfriend."

"So?"

With a huff, I lift my head again to level a look at my best friend. "We're only doing this to save his image."

"Adrian," he says, using a tone that sounds more like he's saying ‘hey, you idiot'. "That guy just spent an entire evening talking to your friends and family, asking to hear stories about you, looking at the handful of pictures of your childhood your mom had saved on her phone. He texts you all the time and brought you flowers. He wouldn't do that if this whole thing was really only about saving his image."

He's probably right. "But he said he didn't have time to date," I point out. "And our arrangement has an end date."

"Okay, but hear me out." He points his chopsticks at me. "What if it didn't?"

I can't help rolling my eyes. "Case…"

"Sure he said he didn't have time to date but that could have changed," he says with a shrug.

"Except that it hasn't changed," I argue. "He's still just as busy, and he is still one of the about five hundred most important people in the government."

"You say that as if ninety percent of those people aren't married with families. His schedule may not have changed, but his priorities might have. Because—and I don't want to put too fine a point on this—he wrote a freaking federal bill to help a cause you're passionate about. If that's not a romantic grand gesture, I don't know what is."

"You need to stop watching rom-coms," I say. Although, I did get all warm and fluttery inside when I read the cover page and realized what he'd done. It felt like a grand gesture moment.

"Don't yuck my yum, especially when you know I'm right." He pops another dumpling in his mouth.

I sigh. "So you think I should, what, exactly?"

"Shoot your shot," he says, the words coming out garbled because of the dumpling still in his mouth. He finishes chewing, then swallows. "Let yourself have this. I think this could be good for you."

"That's what you said when you convinced me to go along with this arrangement in the first place."

"And I stand by it."

I grab up my chopsticks again and pick at my lo mein.

"Just think about it, okay?" he says.

"I will."

I don't think my anxiety will let me do anything but that.