Page 44 of Vengefully Matched

“Sounds like you’ve caught real feelings. Which explains the whole trying-to-sacrifice-yourself-for-her-honor-and-safety thing.” Her brother’s sing-song voice made it impossible to resist, really. She snapped, and rose-gold bubbles hovered over him.

“What did you do?” He looked up. “Oh, shit.” The bubbles exploded, showering him in rose-gold glitter.

“Gotcha,” she said, satisfied.

“Priscilla, this will take ages to come off. My students will think—gosh, I don’t even want to know what they’ll think.” He scowled.

She shrugged. “Maybe it will earn you points; maybe it will make you more despicable. Either way, it’s something interesting.”

He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You’re not distracting me from what I want to say, not even with copious amounts of glitter.”

“A girl can dream,” she muttered, snapping her fingers and procuring an iced coffee. If she had to be up this early talking to her brother about her feelings, she had better do it caffeinated. For good measure, she snapped and deposited one for him on the end table beside him.

He eyed it suspiciously.

“Prank free, scout’s honor.”

“You were never a scout,” he accused.

“No, but I did have that dalliance with one when I was going through that horrible Could I be straight? phase in middle school.”

He looked stricken. “I remember that. You’ve never been grouchier.”

“Yeah, well, you try pretending to be interested in penises.”

“I… have no problem with penises, obviously? Still deeply pansexual while with a woman.” He straightened up in his chair. “But I am going to be honest with you. It looks like a pattern—dating the president, running for president, losing, dating the next one—if you break up with her.”

“Are you suggesting I’m undatable?” The implication wounded her.

He shook his head. “No, Priss. But people do break up.” Az hesitated. “And unless you plan on telling her your real feelings, well, there’s only one way fake dating ends.”

“We have an agreement.”

“To date forever? Tell me you didn’t get engaged again.” He paled slightly.

“Goddess, no. I’m not a fool. We have an agreement that after an appropriate amount of time, she will be the one to leave me, and I will be the one to pine, forlorn in my loss.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’ve thought of everything, then.” He paused. “What happens if you stop ignoring your real feelings? Your words: you have a type.”

Priscilla scowled. “I’m old enough to ignore a crush, and wise enough not to let myself go any further than thinking she’s pretty and doing what I need to do to sell it.”

“You know…” he began.

“Must you?”

“Yes.” He smiled. “Fake dating almost always leads to real feelings in books. I happen to be an expert.”

“Oh no, would you look at the time, I actually have to meet Agatha.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I really do.” She snapped, straightening her hair so that the wave of it was ironed completely out, and then for good measure, she snapped to iron her clothes too.

“You’re going on a date at 11 a.m.?” His eyes sparkled. “Brunch sounds cozy and romantic. Where at? Don’t Go Bacon My Heart?” That he would think a diner was romantic was a problem for another day, or for Vickie. Priscilla didn’t have time to remind her brother about how to be fancy and dashing like his father before him. Besides, that was really her thing.

“We have a business meeting. I’m picking her up so that we can check on Connie.”

“How’s that going?”