Crush Me Softly

6: Not Faking It

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Jake looked down. “I made a mistake.”

I laughed coldly. “You chose someone else. That’s not a mistake. That’s a decision.”

He took another slow step closer. “I miss you. And seeing you with him—”

“Him has a name,” came a voice from behind me.

I turned.

Roman was standing in the doorway, arms crossed, hoodie sleeves pushed to his elbows. His expression was unreadable, but his presence made the air sharper.

Jake narrowed his eyes. “Were you listening in?”

Roman didn’t move. “This is my house. You’re the one lurking outside like some stalker ex.”

Jake scoffed. “You’re really letting him speak for you now?”

“She doesn’t need anyone to speak for her,” Roman said calmly. “But if she wants me to, I will.”

Jake turned back to me, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe it. “Seriously, Kira? Him?”

I didn’t flinch. I just reached for Roman’s hand.

And he took it without hesitation.

“Yeah,” I said. “Him.”

Jake stared at our hands like they’d betrayed him.

“This whole thing is fake,” he muttered.

Roman’s grip tightened slightly, like he was daring Jake to say more.

Jake’s voice dropped lower. “You’re not over me. That’s why you’re doing this.”

And maybe a week ago, he wouldn’t have been wrong.

But now? Now, Roman had seen parts of me no one else bothered to notice. And I wasn’t sure what we were, but I knew one thing:

Jake didn’t get to decide anymore.

“Maybe it started that way,” I said. “But it’s real enough now that I don’t want you.”

Jake blinked, as if that had never occurred to him.

“You’re making a mistake,” he said.

“No,” I replied. “I already did. When I dated you.”

That was the final blow.

He stared at me, eyes hard, then turned and got into his car without another word. Tires squealed as he sped off down the street, too fast for a quiet neighborhood like this.

I exhaled.

Roman and I stood there on the porch, the silence stretching as the adrenaline wore off.

He finally looked at me sideways. “Project?”

I rolled my eyes. “He thinks everything I do revolves around him.”

“Did it?”

I hesitated. “Maybe a little, in the beginning.”

Roman tilted his head slightly. “And now?”

I met his eyes. “Now I’m more worried about what you think of me.”

He didn’t answer for a second. Then he smiled — small and crooked.

“I think,” he said, “you just told your ex off like a total badass.”

That made me laugh.

He pulled me back inside, and when the door closed behind us, it felt like a chapter of my life had closed too.

Jake was part of my past.

But Roman?

Roman was starting to feel dangerously close to something I wasn’t faking.

————

Back inside, Roman tossed the chemistry packet aside like it had personally offended him.

I curled up on the edge of the couch, still barefoot, still buzzing with everything I didn’t say out loud.

He walked into the kitchen, grabbed two cans of soda, and tossed one to me.

It landed in my lap with a soft thunk. “We survived your ex,” he said. “You want to study now or pretend we’re doing that while watching horror movies?”

“Horror,” I said without missing a beat. “Obviously.”

He smirked, heading to his room and coming back with a stack of DVDs. Old-school, I thought. Of course he had physical movies.

He sat next to me, closer than before.

Close enough that our knees touched.

He didn’t move away. And neither did I.

We picked the dumbest-looking movie in the pile — something with terrible practical effects and fake blood that looked like ketchup. It was easier that way. It gave my heart something to focus on besides the fact that Roman’s hoodie brushed my arm every time he shifted.

Halfway through the movie, he leaned in.

Not like he was going to kiss me. Not like a move.

Just leaned in.

And whispered, “Thanks for defending me. Out there. With Jake.”

I glanced at him, startled by how genuine he sounded.

“I wasn’t defending you,” I said. “I was defending me.”

He gave a little nod. “Still. You didn’t have to.”

“I know,” I said. “That’s why it mattered.”

We sat like that, quiet again, the flickering screen painting us in flashes of red and blue. Fake blood. Real feelings.

And in that silence, I realized something that made my stomach twist:

I wasn’t pretending anymore.

Not when I looked at him.

Not when he looked at me.

Not when I wanted to keep sitting here with him long after the screen went black.

I had no idea what would happen next. But for the first time since Jake broke my heart, I didn’t feel broken anymore.

Just… exposed.

And a little scared of how much I didn’t hate it.

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