Fakers (Licking Thicket 1)

“Answer me.”

The guy swallowed, managing to look defiant and sexy and nervous and sexy and guilty and sexy all at the same time. “I thought I was having a private conversation with my honey nugget, if that’s okay with you?” he snapped, brown waves falling in his face. “Take your jealous caveman shit elsewhere. It’s… it’s not sexy.”

I gritted my teeth. “It’s not jealousy, for fuck’s sake. I’m gay. As you know.”

I let that last bit with all its possible interpretations hang in the air, because Mal had been flirting with me, damn it, even if my mother and Paul refused to believe it.

Sure enough, Mal’s cheeks flushed and he looked away for a brief second. He licked his gorgeous lips—I mean, his cheaty, flirtatious lips—and tried to stand up straight, which was kinda tricky because I was standing quite close to him.

As in, really close to him.

As in, my entire forearm was braced across his chest and my face was just a couple inches from his.

“You can back up anytime now, asshole.” He sounded snarky and a little breathless, possibly because I was cutting off his air supply. The man wasn’t small, but he wasn’t nearly as large as I was, and I had the uncomfortable realization that I was the one doing the looming in this scenario.

I eased off just slightly but still held him in place.

“I’ll let go when you promise me that you’re gonna do right by Ava. Not cheat on her or verbally abuse her.”

“Verbally…” Mal’s bright blue eyes narrowed. “Fuck you. I’d never hurt her. You’re the one who’s done a kick-ass job of that.”

I set my jaw. “I know it. And that’s exactly why I’m not going to let you ruin this Lickin’ by being unkind to her.” I stepped away from him.

He rolled his shoulders and shot me a glare. “Ava is the most important person in my life, dumbass.” His voice held the unmistakable ring of truth. “I love her. I dropped everything to be here for her, and I will take care of her. You should stay away from her and from me.”

Honestly. He made it sound like I wanted to be near him, and I didn’t.

Like, hardly at all.

I folded my arms over my chest. “Fine. Treat her right and we won’t have an issue.”

Mal nodded once, then I nodded once. All the while, we stared at each other like a pair of Old West gunslingers at high noon.

Then Mal rolled his eyes and turned on his heel, leaving me behind.

“Hey!” I demanded, jogging after him.

We started walking toward the entrance of the building side by side and stopped simultaneously when we realized we were heading in the same direction.

“I’m going to the Lickin’ Committee meeting,” I informed him. “I’m the…” I would not say Head Licker. Not to Mal. “I’m in charge.”

“Yeah? Fucking awesome. Because I have questions. Ava needs to know where to get a cheerleader uniform for the parade Saturday. Mrs. Ivey volunteered me to do some running race thing tomorrow, but I don’t know where to go or what to do. And I’m setting up a vendor booth with my sculptures on Wednesday for the Licking Artists’ Fair on Thursday. I have no idea who to contact about those things.” He raised his chin stubbornly. “That’s why I’m also going to the Lickin’ Committee meeting.”

I frowned. I obviously had no answers for any of those questions either, except the first. “There aren’t uniforms for the parade.” Were there?

Mal’s glare turned withering. “Of course there are. Mrs. Ivey literally talked about nothing else all morning at breakfast. It’s the Big Huge Hundredth Lick-Off, or whatever the fuck you people call it. Everyone in the parade is dressing in decade-appropriate clothing from the year they won.”

I glanced down at my shorts and boat shoes in relief. “Awesome. Done.”

He sighed. “You are supposed to wear your football uniform. Jesus. How do I know this and you don’t?”

Good fucking question. Where was this meeting? And where was Paul with my itinerary?

I shouldered past Mal into the building… and entered utter chaos.

Well. Apparently I didn’t have to wonder where the meeting was, since folks had decided to hold it right in the lobby. At the top of their lungs.

“Holy shit,” Mal whispered under his breath from beside me. “They’ve gone feral.”

This basically summed up my initial impression, as well.

“Brooks!” Coach Cosway, standing near the entrance, caught sight of me first. “Thank goodness you’re here. Tell this woman that the Friday Morning Football Throw is a family-favorite Thicket tradition, and we won’t be postponing it for any dang kiddie craft fair!” His blue eyes gleamed zealously in his round, pink face. “As Head Licker, you’ll obviously be throwing the first football and awarding the prizes for the kids when it’s over!”

That woman, who happened to be Mrs. Cosway, set her hands on her hips. “Brooks, honey, please remind this idiot that his own son is participating in the craft fair this year, and it’s about time we had a more inclusive family activity for Friday morning anyway!”