Joey woke up before Lauren the next morning, and decided to go downstairs and make her breakfast, both because he wanted to do something nice for her and because it was better than letting her catch him staring at her when she woke up.
He crept downstairs quietly so he wouldn't disturb her, grabbed some gluten free flour from the cupboard, and sent up a silent prayer that he hadn't lost the ability to make the pancakes she had taught him how to cook two years ago.
Lauren walked in just as he was flipping them over, wearing another one of his sweatshirts and a pair of shorts that made his heart stutter. She tiptoed to press a kiss to his cheek before sitting at the table, watching as he slid the pancakes onto plates and carried them over.
She took a forkful, humming in appreciation. "These are amazing JoJo."
"I had a very good teacher," he said, and she grinned.
"I don't know what we're gonna do today," she said with a frown, setting her knife and fork down.
"Well," Joey said, leaning his elbow on the table and resting his chin in his hand. "The snow's still too bad to go anywhere."
Lauren's gaze drifted out of the window thoughtfully, to the back garden covered in a thick blanket of icy powder. Then she started to smile.
"What?" Joey asked suspiciously.
She turned her attention back to him, her eyes sparkling. "I bet I could beat you in a snowball fight."
He laughed loudly as she kept up her challenging stare, realising she was serious. "Oh, you're on Lopez."
Just half an hour later, Joey had his arm wrapped around Lauren's shoulders, leading her back inside as she complained about the cold.
"That was a terrible idea," she said, her teeth chattering.
Joey grinned down at her, faltering for a moment as he ached to brush his thumb over her eyes to melt away the lingering snowflakes, before he recovered. "You suggested it."
"I told you I'd win though."
Joey thought back to letting every one of her snowballs hit him because he knew what a bad loser she was, and suppressed a smile.
She shivered, and Joey encouraged her to go upstairs and change into warm, dry clothes before she got hypothermia. He followed, going into the bathroom to dry his hair off first, and lingering longer than necessary to avoid having to pretend he felt nothing seeing Lauren in a state of undress.
Once they were both bundled up in sweatshirts, Lauren dragged her duvet downstairs and they both settled down under it on the couch to watch a movie.
Joey hardly paid any attention to it, because Lauren was curled into him, her head resting on his shoulder, and all he could think about was her proximity. At one point she began to trace light, lazy patterns over his chest, and Joey stiffened.
"What's wrong?" Lauren asked, her hand stilling.
"Nothing," he said, forcing himself to exhale, and attempting to smile down at her.
"Joey," she said warningly.
"I can't keep doing this, Lauren," he blurted, them clamped his mouth shut, already dreading where this was going, and wishing again that he and Lauren could just go back to normal.
"Doing what?"
He huffed out a long breath, feeling his heart start to beat concerningly fast. "Hugging you. Kissing you. Having you touch me. Letting you fall asleep in my arms," he swallowed thickly, worried he was going to say too much.
"Why?" she asked accusingly, narrowing her eyes at him.
"I just-" was all he managed to say before she interrupted him.
"What, you hate me that much that you can't even pretend to be in a relationship with me?"
"Don't be stupid, of course I don't hate you," he groaned, leaning his head back on the couch and wishing she didn't have such a strong effect on him so that they could have avoided all this.
"Then what is it? Because you don't want people to think we're actually together?" she asked, her voice rising slightly.
