"You know most people have this conversation before they start calling one another husband and wife," he says, voice low and a little huskier than he realizes. "But I'm glad to hear you won't suffer selfish idiots."

There's no ignoring that having her so close makes his heart speed up. Surely it's just the thrill of this game, and how he's hardly sure what she'll do next, and not that he enjoys her bossy spirit or the thought of her being possessive over his attention. He certainly isn't thinking of the first day this ruse started, when she stormed off because, presumably, he'd insulted her, but know he wonders through the haze of being buzzed if it wasn't seeing him flirt with someone else.

He's only aware he's reached up to cup her face when his thumb meets her jaw, and he barely recovers it to a tweak of her chin. "You set an impossible task for me though," he says. "I flirt with everyone, sometimes even the furniture. It doesn't mean anything."