Just For Now

CHAPTER NINE - Missed Steps

Lucas’s POV

I knew the moment she closed her door that she was overwhelmed.

Not because she said it.

But because Naomi only got that quiet when her mind was louder than usual.

The apartment felt different after today.

Smaller.

Like the air itself was aware of what had changed between us.

I stood in the kitchen longer than necessary, rinsing a glass that didn’t need rinsing, listening to the faint sounds from her room. The creak of her bed. The soft thud of something dropping.

Normal sounds.

Roommate sounds.

Why did they feel like they meant more now?

I leaned my palms on the counter and exhaled slowly.

Her mom liked me.

That should have felt like a win for the plan.

Instead, it felt like something else entirely.

Because I hadn’t been pretending.

Not when I answered her questions. Not when I said we’d been together for months. Not when I smiled at the way Naomi rolled her eyes at me across the table like we had history.

It had felt natural.

Too natural.

And the scariest part was that I hadn’t needed to think about any of it.

I meant everything I said.

Just not in the way Naomi was afraid of.

I turned off the tap and dried my hands, staring at the closed hallway that led to her room.

She was trying to put the boundaries back in place.

I could see it in the way she forced that smile before saying goodnight.

“Ground rules. Still in effect.”

I almost laughed at that.

Because the rules had already started slipping days ago.

She just hadn’t noticed yet.

Or maybe she had.

Maybe that was the problem.

I walked to the living room and dropped onto the couch, leaning my head back.

I should feel guilty.

This was her idea. Her plan. Her situation.

But somewhere along the way, I’d stopped thinking of this as a favor.

And started thinking of it as… ours.

I replayed the moment in the kitchen.

Do you want to stop?

I had meant that.

I would have stopped. Immediately.

If she had said yes, I would have gone back to being just her roommate, just her friend, like this never happened.

And that terrified me.

Because I didn’t want to stop.

Not the act.

Not the closeness.

Not the way she looked at me like she was trying to figure something out she didn’t want to admit.

I ran a hand over my face.

This was getting messy.

She was right.

But not because I was confused.

I was painfully clear.

I liked her.

Not “she’s easy to live with” liked her. Not “we get along” liked her.

I liked the way she thought too much and said too little. The way she pretended to be composed when she was spiraling inside. The way she trusted me without realizing she did.

And today, watching her with her mom?

That had done something permanent.

She was softer there.

More open.

More herself.

And I had wanted, stupidly, to be someone who belonged in that picture for real.

I stared at the ceiling.

Six months.

That was the agreement.

Six months of pretending.

And then what?

We’d go back to normal?

Back to being just roommates who once faked a relationship a little too well?

The thought sat heavily in my chest.

I didn’t like the idea of an end.

Which meant I was already in deeper than I should be.

A quiet thud came from her room again, and I found myself listening without meaning to.

Was she pacing?

Overthinking?

Lying on her bed staring at the ceiling like she did when something bothered her?

I smiled faintly.

I knew her routines already.

That shouldn’t have felt as significant as it did.

I stood up and walked to my room, but I didn’t close the door fully. Just in case she came out for water or a snack or because she couldn’t sleep.

Just in case she needed company and didn’t want to ask for it.

I lay on my bed, hands behind my head, staring into the dim light.

I should create distance.

I should pull back a little.

Make this easier for her.

But the truth was—

I didn’t want to.

Because for the first time in a long time, something in my life felt simple.

Being around Naomi was easy.

Understanding her was easy.

Caring about her was easy.

Pretending not to?

That was going to be the hard part.

I turned to my side, facing the door.

Her voice echoed in my head.

I don’t want this to get messy.

Too late.

Not because we crossed lines.

But because neither of us wanted to.

And somehow, that was worse.

I closed my eyes.

Tomorrow, I’d act normal.

I’d give her space.

I’d keep the boundaries exactly where she wanted them.

But tonight, in the quiet of my room, I let myself admit something I wouldn’t say out loud yet.

This wasn’t fake for me anymore.

And if I wasn’t careful,

I was going to fall for a girl who still believed this had an expiration date.

Naomi's POV

I was halfway through brushing my teeth when my phone started ringing on the bed.

Hannah.

I spat quickly and answered, tucking the phone between my ear and shoulder.

“Morning.”

“Hi stranger,” she said. “You and your roommate-boyfriend have disappeared.”

I smiled despite myself. “We live together. There’s nowhere to disappear to.”

“You know what I mean. We haven’t hung out in forever. Let’s do a double date.”

I froze.

“To where?” I asked carefully.

“Anywhere. Dinner, maybe. Saturday evening. Daniel’s been asking to meet you properly again.”

Right.

This was normal.

“Saturday?” I repeated.

“Yes. Don’t overthink it. Just come out with your man, and let’s eat food like normal people.”

I laughed lightly, but my brain was moving too fast.

Double date.

Public place.

Hannah is watching us.

Talking to us.

Noticing things.

“Naomi?” she said. “You there?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m here. Saturday is fine.”

“Good. Text me later. I have to run.”

She hung up before I could say anything else.

I stood there in the middle of my room, toothbrush still in my hand, staring at nothing.

Something felt off.

Not about Hannah.

About us.

I walked slowly into the kitchen, where Lucas was making breakfast.

“Hannah just called,” I said.

He glanced up. “Everything okay?”

“She wants a double date. Saturday.”

He nodded once. “Okay.”

I watched him for a second.

He looked too calm.

And that’s when it hit me.

Hard.

“We’ve never been on a date,” I said.

He paused.

“What?”

“We’ve never gone out. Just the two of us. Not as roommates. Not as friends. Not as anything.”

He blinked.

Then, he frowned slightly like he was mentally retracing our timeline.

“…Oh.”

“Exactly,” I said.

“How did we skip that part?” he asked.

“Because we went from strangers to fake couple in three business days.”

He huffed a laugh.

But I couldn’t.

Because the more I thought about it, the more obvious it became.

We knew how to act at home. We knew how to act in front of my mom.

But we had no idea how to act like a couple outside.

No shared experiences. No ‘remember when’ stories. Nothing.

Hannah was going to notice.

She always noticed.

“If we go like this, she’ll know,” I said quietly.

Lucas leaned back against the counter, thinking.

“Then we don’t go like this.”

I looked at him. “What does that mean?”

He was quiet for a few seconds.

Then he said, calmly, “I’ll take you on a date before Saturday.”

I stared at him.

He's not joking.

“Lucas—”

“We need one,” he said. “A real one. So we don’t look like two people pretending when we’re with them.”

My heart started doing that annoying, loud thing again.

“A practice date,” I muttered.

He shook his head slightly. “No. An actual one.”

I swallowed.

“That feels… unnecessary.”

“It feels smart,” he replied.

And the worst part?

He was right.

I folded my arms.

“When?”

“I’ll plan it,” he said.

That made me pause.

“You’re planning it?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Why do you sound serious?”

“Because if we’re doing this, we should do it properly.”

There was something in his tone I couldn’t quite place.

Not playfulness.

Not strategy.

Something steadier.

More intentional.

I looked away first.

“Fine,” I said. “Plan it.”

He studied me for a moment. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I lied. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

I hesitated.

Then said the truth. “How we skipped all the normal steps and didn’t even notice.”

He smiled faintly. “We’re efficient.”

“This is not efficiency. This is chaos.”

He laughed quietly.

But I couldn’t shake the thought now sitting heavily in my chest.

We had never had a beginning.

No first date. No first outing. No first memory outside these walls.

And somehow, we had jumped straight into something that felt much bigger than that.

Lucas pushed off the counter.

“I’ll text you the details later,” he said.

“Details?”

“Yeah. Time. Place. What to wear.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t get carried away.”

He smiled. “No promises.”

As he walked back toward his room, I stood there, staring at the space he’d just occupied.

This was supposed to be preparation for a double date.

So why did it feel like we were about to cross into something new?

Something that didn’t feel like pretending at all.

And for the first time since this whole thing started,

I realized we weren’t missing steps by accident.