Fakers (Licking Thicket 1)

“Dude, I don’t know. I think there’s some soda in the basement? But it’s warm.”

“Duh. You want it to be room temperature,” Paul scoffed, like this was something everyone should know.

Mal shot me a look, and I frowned. I had no clue what had gotten into my “boyfriend” either. I’d entered an alternate dimension where Paul fixed things, instead of me. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

Ava moaned slightly and put a hand to her stomach.

Correction. I felt pretty damn fine with this alternate dimension, because I was clueless about how to help.

“Well?” Paul demanded, making a shooing motion with his free hand. “Go print the things and fetch the ginger ale!”

“Going.” I stood and slapped Mal on the shoulder. He scowled up at me. “Come on.”

“No way. I’m not—” Mal protested.

“For fuck’s sake, get your girlfriend her soda,” I insisted, prodding him slightly.

“Go, Mal,” Ava said, sounding drunk. “Fetch the things, print the ginger ale.” To Paul, she added, “Damn, whatever you’re doing with my wrist is amazing.”

I headed for the basement, and Mal reluctantly followed.

The Iveys’ basement was divided in half by a long wall that ran along the right side of the stairs. To the right was what they called the “dirty” basement, where they kept the washing machine and their overflow refrigerator. To the left was the “clean” basement, which used to be the Ivey kids’ rec room. I’d played Spin the Bottle on that linoleum floor, back before I’d had any idea what kissing was supposed to feel like, and I’d wondered why the hell I was so underwhelmed. Walking down those stairs was a little like entering a time warp.

“Hey. I don’t know what your boyfriend thinks he’s doing, but move it along so we can get back up there,” Mal said from behind me. “I’m grabbing the soda.”

I rolled my eyes. “Hey, Mal? Why don’t you grab the soda? Just because I told you to.”

“You’re an ass,” Mal said predictably before he headed left and I headed right, flipping on the light as I went.

The rec room was Mrs. Ivey’s exercise studio now, judging by the pink yoga mat on the floor and the giant mirror along the wall. But there was also a desk filled with color-coded office supplies, a newish printer, and a computer that had to be ten years old at least.

I set my bag on the desk, removed my laptop, brought up my email, and tried to connect to the Wi-Fi… and that was when I encountered a big problem.

When Mal came back in, I was bent over with my ass sticking up in the air, trying to pry the desk away from the wall.

“Oh, damn,” Mal said blandly from behind me. “Brooks, do you need me to explain how printers work? ’Cause twerking isn’t usually required.”

The look I shot over my shoulder probably would have been more scathing if the man didn’t look so goddamn delectable with his arms folded over his chest and his lean biceps on display. “Har har. The printer’s not hooked up to Wi-Fi, so I had to connect the fucking cable, but your future mother-in-law has all the cables stapled to the damn wall and it’s not fitting in the slot on my laptop fully or something, so it won’t print. It says Connection Not Established.”

Mal flopped in the desk chair and spun around, cradling a bottle of ginger ale in his lap. “Hmmm. Sounds like a personal problem. But don’t be embarrassed. I bet lots of guys have ‘connectivity problems’ because their cable’s too short. I mean, not me, obviously. But I think they sell supplements for that. I read it in Men’s Health.”

“You’re so helpful. ‘Oh, no,’” I said in a high-pitched voice. “‘I love Ava! I’m there for Ava. I’ll take care of Ava.’”

He skidded to a stop, and I could feel his eyes on my back. “I do take care of Ava.”

“Sure. That’s why Paul is up there with her now giving her a wrist massage and you’re here making size jokes about my printer issues.” I yanked on the desk and muttered, “Come the fuck on. Is this thing lined with lead?”

Mal put the soda bottle on the ground. “Hey, it’s not my fault your boyfriend likes to stick his nose in other people’s business, asshole. And if your man’s got enough free time to wanna play nursemaid to my best friend and enough pent-up frustration to suck your face off in public, that says something about you.”

“Suck my face off?” The kiss Paul gave me had zero tongue, thank fuck. “You’re insane.”

Mal made a filthy, wet slurping noise. It was disgusting… and also made my cock twitch. It wasn’t lost on me that he’d called Ava his best friend… not his girlfriend.

I straightened to face him. “What are you implying exactly?”