Page 93 of Faking It With My Pucking Protector

The shift is instant. A flicker of tension tugs across her features as she reads.

I step closer. “Everything okay?”

She exhales through her nose, jaw tensing. “Brad’s company. They officially pulled their funding.”

I watch her. There’s no panic. No shaking. Just a long breath as she sets the phone down with deliberate calm.

“I knew it was coming,” she says quietly. “Still sucks, though.”

“You’re not alone in this,” I say.

She meets my gaze, steady and fierce now.

“I know, and I’m not letting him bring me down. He wants to pull funding? Fine. I’ll find another way. I don’t need him.”

I step in, my hand finding the small of her back. Her shoulders lift and fall, another breath drawn deeper this time. Then she squares them, chin rising.

“We’ll make this gala a success. No matter what.”

I watch her for a beat longer, a swell of something damn close to pride moving through me.

She’s going to fight, and I’m going to be right here with her.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

AVA

By mid-morning a few days later, I’m at our small Open Pages office. It’s a space we use when in-person meetings make more sense than remote calls. Most of our work happens online, but for the gala, it helps to be here together.

I’m standing in front of a whiteboard filled with half-scribbled sponsor names, donation tiers, and color-coded deadlines.

But despite the pressure, a small smile tugs at my lips.

Jackson is my boyfriend.

Myrealboyfriend.

It still scares me, if I’m honest. Not because I doubt it, but because of how right it feels. How easy it was to slip into this new version of us.

But there’s no time for distractions today. Not with everything ahead of me.

Jenna tosses a stress ball in the air, her brows furrowed in deep concentration as she waits for the rest of the team to arrive.

Kim steps in next, carrying her laptop and a thick folder packed with sponsor notes, her expression focused. Evelyn follows, a determined look in her eyes, already shifting into work mode. Drew walks in last, a sheepish grin on his face.

“Sorry, was editing a donor reel,” he says, shrugging slightly.

I nod, offering a small smile. “Glad you’re all here. Let’s get started.”

Everyone settles. The air in the room shifts. It’s focused, sharp.

I continue, “Brad’s company pulling funding wasn’t a shock. But it leaves us short, and we’ve got five weeks to close the gap.”

Kim’s already nodding. “I’ve got two corporate leads I’ll hit this afternoon.”

“Evelyn, the community side?”

She flips to a tabbed page. “Strong. Bookmobile’s packed, after-school programs are full, and we’ve got enough volunteers to cover the rest of the month.”