Don't Go Faking My Heart (Sweet as Sugar Maple, #4)

by Kate Watson

"I know you're cute. And dorky. And adorable. That's all part of what makes you so gorgeous."

"Do you really not see yourself?" he asks incredulously. "Ash, you are beautiful. I haven't been able to take my eyes off you since the moment we met. There isn't a girl alive who can compare with you."

"No. I'm not backing down from this, and we're not moving on until you acknowledge that I'm right. You are gorgeous, and if you don't see it, you're gonna have to trust me. Do you trust me?" WHY AM I CRYING? "Yes." "Good. Then you'll have to trust me on this until I've convinced you of it so thoroughly, you wear the truth of it in your eyes. You. Are. Gorgeous."

"When we go back to being friends, do you think you could keep up with all this sweet mushiness? It's like a glow-up for my soul every time you talk to me."

"If you can call me gorgeous, I can call you lover." "No you can't." "Give me one good reason." "Mine is the truth, yours isn't," I say. Ash narrows her eyes. I let her get away with almost anything, except murder. And her calling me lover will kill me.

I shake my head. "You are too much." "Am I?" Her brows thread together. "No," I say quickly. "Not for me. You're exactly enough. You're perfect."

I don't know how I'll ever come back from fake dating the love of my life.

"I support whatever Ash thinks is best." I don’t know what I expected, but the way Ash is studying me ain’t it. Shoot. What did I do?

"Are you saying she goes for jerks because she's subconsciously trying to prove to her dad that she's worth loving?" Lou and Millie stare at me. "Literally exactly that," Lou says.

“I wouldn’t have gotten there without you.” “Sure you would have. I asked a simple question.” “No, you asked and listened. And because you listened, I was able to hear where my thought process was falling short,” she says.

I also love how he believes in me. I’m still glowing from his confidence that I’d figure out the right strategy back in the conference room. It was hot.

"I think Ash is the most beautiful woman in the world," Rusty says to Ava. "Sometimes, I lose my words when she comes into a room, because there's no space left in my head for anything except thoughts of her." His eyes meet mine for only an instant, and I burst into flames. ACTUAL FLAMES.

Ash laughs, and I feel a stab of jealousy until I see how cold her eyes are. “You have to be the only guy I ever dated who wished I'd still been running an abs page." That's better.

She's not looking at me in adoration, she's impressed that I put her crappy ex in his place without being a jerk about it. This look isn't about me at all. It's about him. To make matters worse, she's calling me "the best person" when I had to control myself the whole time. All I wanted to do was disassemble the guy with my bare hands, not my words.

Ash looks at me. "Um, hello, did we just give each other new nicknames?" "I think we did." "Princess Bride nicknames, too," Ash says. "Wow. We're really good at this." We really are.

Her hand pulls back fast. "Sorry, I think I got a shock." It's too humid for a shock. Is she … Is she attracted to me? The very possibility is a vise squeezing my lungs with hope so acute, it's painful.

"You okay?" Rusty asks as he shreds corned beef for a recipe. "Yeah, my meds are wearing off, so I'm just having a little crash. Nothing to worry about." "What usually helps when you crash?" "Well, Millie told me that exercising over the crash will give me a dopamine hit to counteract it, but I think exercise is boring …" "What do you want to do?" This conversation is reason seven thousand why I wish I could fall in love with Rusty.

Rusty stops what he's doing and looks me in the eye. "You could never be in the way." "I don't want to mess you guys up." "If you make a mistake, we'll fix it or throw it out. It doesn't matter." "It kind of matters," Patty says, but I’m pretty sure he’s kidding.

"Want to revisit that whole 'you could never be in the way' comment?" "Yeah, I take it all back. You're a liability." He kisses the tip of my nose. "But I like it."

He took the most awkward, forced kiss in the world and turned it into something sweet. Something endearing. Something … Sexy. HOW IS HE SO GOOD AT THIS?

He smiles and takes another bite. The way his jaw flexes with each movement entrances me. "You're an attractive eater." He chokes. "Wha—?" He coughs and takes a drink of his ice water. "Sorry, what?"

"You know, those burger commercials worked because guys liked seeing hot girls attack a burger like that." "I'm not hot." "You're hot." I roll my eyes and take a bite of my quesadilla. Russian dressing squishes onto my chin. With my mouth full, I say, "Not hot." Rusty looks like he's trying not to laugh as he reaches across the table and wipes my chin with his napkin. "Hot."

I look up at him, sure I've leaked and dribbled through my waterproof mascara and lip stain. Rusty raises his eyebrows like he's so wildly attracted to me, he can barely stand it. "Hot."

"More of you is always a good thing," he says. And then, because he really is the most perfect man ever to be created, he starts massaging my feet. He presses his thumbs into my arch, and my eyes flutter closed as I hold back a groan of delight.

"Your future wife is going to be the luckiest woman in the world." "I'm not worried about making anyone happy but you," he says. Why my heart stutters at that, I have no idea.

I'm not sure another living soul could pick up what he’s saying. He's using a frequency that vibrates only for me.

She pushes my shoulder. "I love it when you say 'ain't.' It feels like you do it on purpose, to show that you're human."

"Ash, I love that you're an open book." "And I hate that I didn't realize that you're password protected."

I drop my head, hoping Ash doesn't see the tightness in my eyes. "I don't want to be password protected," I say. "Not with you."

"Wow. Someone who played hockey going to an ice rink. What will they think of next?" the girl behind the ticket counter says. Our group snorts.

I want to shake myself for how petty I am. I was worried that Ash was jealous, but she's worried that Philip is going to do what he did to her to that girl.

He slaps it away. "I don't need help. I'm sure Ashley told you how good I am at getting things done." "Honestly, she never mentioned you," I say. "I don't think you meant as much to her as you think you did."

He looks like a toddler trying to escape a bathtub on tile.

The game continues, and we all watch in a mix of shock and awe. Because this is without a doubt the least athletic-looking display of athleticism anyone has ever seen.

Have I put him into a box where he's not even allowed to be human?"

Except this "show" is a documentary. True crime. I may have said I wouldn’t let her get away with murder, but I lied. Letting her go when this is over will kill me.

I let the feel of her curls imprint into my lips, and the lavender scent of her hair takes up residence in my lungs. This casual intimacy is more than a tease, it's torture.

"It's hard to care about a chapter in a book I DNF'd."

A shivering Ash glares at me. "Watch your mouth." "I'd rather watch yours."

"I do not light candles." "You should. I'm going to get you a candle. A manly one. It'll smell like spruce and cedar and sweat."

My finger runs along the side of the thick cover. Shouldn't I make every effort to show him that he's safe with me? That I would never invade⁠— I'm already looking. So much for self-restraint.

Rusty's hand touches my hand across the table. "Ash?" My eyes jump to his and to that tender smile he wears just for me. "Your feet are making out with my feet."

"Sorry! My feet were acting of their own accord! With input from my brain."

Now we've progressed to talking about nausea. So attractive, Ash! But also, Rusty looking out for me? So attractive.

I try to ask him what he's smiling at, but I've already crammed another bite in my mouth, so it comes out more like, "Wha' are 'ou 'miling a'?" And I spit a fleck of pancake onto the table. Take notes, people. This is how you get yourself a man.

Loving her is as natural as breathing, except I'm always sucking in air through a straw.

but even if he goes back tomorrow, I'll look back at this week as a gift. Knowing the feel of her skin and the taste of her lips is a privilege I never expected. Every day after we return to normal will be harder for it, but it doesn't make this experience any less poignant. You can't know sweet without the bitter.

You can't listen to them. You can't spare them another thought. You can't believe anyone who makes you think you're anything less than extraordinary."

“Stop doing that! Stop trying to convince yourself that you’re a bad guy. You’re not. Anyone who tells you otherwise is lying … including you. And I don’t let anyone tell lies about my Farm Boy.”

He could have texted, but he left me a note. Could he be cuter?