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Fakers (Licking Thicket 1)

Page 62

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But when it looked like Ava was moving closer and preparing to suck his face off in gratitude, I interrupted.

“Is it possible for a person to catch morning sickness?” I asked no one in particular, pressing a hand to my stomach. “I suddenly feel queasy…”

“Hush your mouth, Brooks!” Ava hiss-whispered, stepping away from Paul, who rolled his eyes behind his glasses. “My mother just went to load a box of bidding paddles for the auction into your mother’s car, and our dads ran out to do an errand. They’ll all be back any minute.”

“Then it’s probably good if she doesn’t walk in on me watching you playing tonsil tennis with the love of my life, right?” I said mildly. “Unless you’re ready to come clean about the whole thing?”

I wasn’t sure I was, but I’d follow her lead.

“No.” Ava exhaled and rubbed a hand over her forehead. “Definitely not. I don’t think. Or… I dunno. Maybe? The whole thing is so complicated.”

That was for damn sure. “So, um, speaking of which… where’s Malachi this morning?”

Paul laughed. “Super-smooth segue, bro. Ten out of ten casual stars.”

I flipped him off.

“He was asleep when my mom and I left to come over here and wouldn’t wake up, even for Dove chocolates.” Ava’s eyes danced. “And those are his favorite. He was up pretty late, you know. I had a dozen 3:00 a.m. texts on my phone when I woke up, and half of them started with the word Brooks.”

“Oh, yeah?” I tried for casual again, but Paul’s expression said I’d failed once more. Mal had seemed fine when I dropped him off. Hadn’t he? Had I been too tipsy to remember? “As it happens, I uh… might possibly have neglected to get his phone number last night at the bar? So could you maybe…”

Ava tapped her lip thoughtfully. “Mmm. Not sure I should give Mal’s contact information to a man who refers to me kissing my boyfriend as tonsil tennis.” She laid a proprietary arm on Paul’s chest while his eyes widened in a euphoric daze. His hand absently searched his pocket for his inhaler.

“Boyfriend?” he breathed.

“Hey! Paul was my boyfriend before you took him to your tree house last night!” I reminded her, propping my forearm on Paul’s shoulder. “Homewrecker.”

“Oh my God, I feel so objectified!” Paul exclaimed. “Am I just a hunk of meat to you people? A bone for you to fight over?”

“Oh, honey,” Ava began, frowning worriedly. “I’m so sorry—”

“Are you kidding? It’s fucking awesome!” Paul said gleefully, nudging up his glasses and patting down his thinning hair. “I’ve been waiting my whole life for this. Don’t stop now!”

Ava and I looked at each other and snickered.

Ava held out her hand. “Phone,” she demanded.

I handed it over. Then I eyed Paul, who looked like breathing in Ava’s exhaled air was the greatest joy of his existence. For the first time ever, I was a little jealous of him. He and Ava still had plenty of hurdles, but at least they knew they were on the same page, more or less. After what Ava had said, I was starting to wonder if Mal and I were.

“So, lover boy.” I nudged Paul’s arm. “Have you heard back from Carlin about the graphics?”

“I did.” Paul winced and moved away from Ava just far enough to grab his own coffee mug. “Carlin also gave me an earful about Pamela. Turns out Pamela got tired of us putting her off about the presentation and went directly to Carlin to learn about what we’re doing.”

My heart beat double time. “And?”

Paul stretched his neck. “She’s not exactly thrilled. The adjectives I heard were childish and simplistic.”

“Shit. But General Partridge will love them! At least I think he will.”

“But he won’t get to see them if Pamela overrides you, buddy,” he said sadly. “She didn’t say it in so many words, but Carlin thinks she’s giving the project back to Kale.”

“What? So he can create some kind of Walking Dead-themed barbecue sauce campaign?” I really did feel queasy suddenly, and ridiculous as it sounded since I’d known the man less than a week, I wished Mal were with me. I just felt better when he was around. Things made sense.

Ava handed me back my phone, and I immediately typed out a message.

Me: Hey. It’s Brooks. Just checking in. How are you?

That sounded casual, right? But, like, attentive? The gaps in my dating experience were so wide, I could feel a breeze blow through them.

“You don’t have to look so worried. He was alive and well. Just really tired,” Ava said airily. “As you’d expect.”

“’Cause he was up all night texting you about me,” I said dubiously. “Right.”

“You… you really have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?” Her eyes were wide and excited. “He didn’t tell you about the sign?”



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