The Bookworm's Guide to Faking It (The Bookworm's Guide 2)

“You’re so funny,” she drawled. “Some of us like clean kitchens.”

“I know why you don’t date. You’re too busy pulling crumbs from your toaster.”

“You can wait for your cab downstairs if you want.”

“I love how you’ve organized your plates,” I said quickly. “By color and size. Wow.”

“Sebastian?”

“Yes?”

“Get out of my fucking cabinets.”

I shut the cabinet door with a chuckle and leaned against the counter. “Done.”

“Would you like a hot chocolate?” Holley asked, holding up the jar that I assumed was full of the hot chocolate powder. “No caffeine but just as yummy.”

“Sure.” I tucked my hands in my pockets and watched as she expertly navigated her little hot drink station.

It was fucking adorable.

There was a coffee machine, an electric kettle, a mug rack, and various storage jars that were labeled with their contents.

There was even one for marshmallows.

I’d take that.

Holley fixed my cocoa and handed it to me in a mug that proclaimed me to be a book lover. I side-eyed it for only a moment before I sipped the hot drink and let it warm me from the inside out.

It was good.

“No marshmallows?” I asked, peering into the mug.

“Oh, drama queen,” she replied, shoving her hand in the marshmallow jar. She grabbed a handful and crossed the kitchen, unceremoniously dumping them into my mug with a glare.

“Thank you,” I said with a smirk, then sipped. “Mm. That’s better.”

“See, just when I think we could be friends, you irritate me, and I realize it’s only in a group setting that we can be friends.”

“You’re in a sweet mood.”

“I’m never in a sweet mood.”

I sipped the hot chocolate, then set the mug down on the counter behind me. Holley didn’t move from her spot on the other side of the kitchen, and she cradled her mug as if it would slip out of her hands any second.

“Can I ask you something?”

She peered over the rim of the mug as she lifted it to her mouth, raising her eyebrows in a move I assumed to be a yes.

“Why did you care why I didn’t go home with that redhead?”

Holley choked. She quickly put down her mug and banged her fist against her chest, waving me off with the other hand. After a minute she was fine, but was gripping the counter that, judging by the whiteness of her knuckles, was with one hell of a tight grasp.

“What do you mean?” she asked, frowning. “I was just curious. Pretty much every guy in there was staring at her, so…”

“So you assumed I would?”

“I didn’t assume anything.” She shook her hair out. “I didn’t care if you left with her or not, I was just wondering. You know, like friends do.”

“Nobody else asked me why I didn’t go home with her.”

“Colton did.”

“Only because Colton wanted to go home with her,” I replied. “Not the same.”

Holley shrugged, but it was somewhat stunted thanks to her grip on the counter. “I don’t know what to tell you, Seb. I was just curious.”

“Did you know that you’re a really bad liar?” I pushed off the counter and crossed the kitchen to her. I stopped only a few feet in front of her. “You always put your tongue in your cheek right after you’re done talking.”

She swallowed. “I just do that sometimes.”

“When you lie.”

“What could I possibly be lying about, Sebastian?” She went to move, but I shot my arm out and blocked her. She fell back against the counter, gripping the edge once again.

I flattened my hand on it next to her and leaned in. “Everything.”

“Well it certainly feels like I’m living a lie when I have to pretend to be your girlfriend.”

“That’s not what I’m referring to, and you know it.”

“I have no idea.”

“The redhead.” I dipped my face closer to hers and met her gaze. “Why did you really care when I said she wasn’t my type?”

“I didn’t.” She put her tongue in her cheek and immediately dropped her tongue again. “Your cab is going to be here in a minute, so…”

“Do you want to know what I think?”

“Not particularly,” she whispered. She paused before she cleared her throat. “No. I can’t say I do,” she said, this time a lot stronger.

“Ever since I told you the truth on Friday night about what happened at prom, it’s been different, hasn’t it?”

“I guess I don’t have a choice.”

“No. You don’t. Now answer the question.”

She shifted uncomfortably. “Yes, it’s been different. I no longer want to castrate you on sight.”

Always a good thing.

“Holley.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say to you!”

“The truth.” I moved so I was standing in front of her. “It’s not that hard to do.”

She looked at me with her big, blue eyes. Her cheeks were flushed, and there was a little panic to her expression, like I’d bashed down a wall she’d been desperately trying to keep up. “There’s nothing to say,” she said after a moment. “There is no ulterior motive to my questions, Sebastian. Yes, it’s been different since you told me the truth about prom. I’ve done some soul-searching and I’m sorry I was too stubborn to hear the truth back then. But now I know, we’ve cleared it up, and we can move on. As friends.”