Page 102 of Play Fake

“He took her out to help you.”

“What?”

“She bumped into him at the bar and was hitting on him, gave him her number even though she was supposedly dating your ex. So Waylon thought if he could get her to cheat on your ex, then you two might be able to get back together.”

“He fucked her so he could get me back with Ezra? That doesn’t even make sense.”

“I don’t think he did fuck her, for the record. But even if he did—doesn’t it? I mean, didn’t you and Waylon pretend to be together to make Ezra jealous? To try to get him back? Or at least make him wish for it?”

“That was Olivia’s idea.”

“But you went along with it, right?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t want to. Waylon volunteered for some insane reason.”

“Because he’s had a thing for you for a while. He just knew you couldn’t stand him. So he thought if you wouldn’t date him, maybe he could at least help you.”

“I could stand him. It’s obvious everyone loves him. And I kind of liked arguing with him. I just thought he was a jerk. Because he was, to me.”

“Have you considered it could have been a self-defense mechanism? Especially for someone who isn’t used to the idea of having feelings for someone?”

I think back to all my interactions with Waylon since I met him, trying to re-envision them through this new perspective, and it kind of fits.

Bens smiles at me, giving me a knowing look, his dimples popping as he watches my little cogs turning.

“Those are way less attractive when they’re self-satisfied and smug.”

“Waylon will be happy to hear you’re finding me less attractive these days.”

I roll my eyes and sip my cider.

“I don’t know what to do about everything, though. How I can even start to fix it.”

“Maybe just answer his texts?”

“He hasn’t texted me. I haven’t heard anything from him.”

“He will. He’s just been trying to give you your space.”

“Okay,” I relent at last.

Ben finishes up his cider and then excuses himself to get back to his house to study. I gather up the mugs and head inside, where I find Olivia and Wren parked at the kitchen counter on stools sipping out of their own mugs. They eye me when I get in.

“No. Please no. Please, not you too.”

“This is an intervention,” Olivia begins, picking up her readers from the counter and putting them on her face, a little smirk forming.

“Oh, my god!” I dump the mugs in the sink. “Is anyone on my side at this point?”

“We are both on your side, Kenzie. You know that.” Olivia chides.

I lean back against the counter, crossing my arms over my chest.

“He knowingly took the woman who stole my boyfriend from me out on a date. To a nice, fancy restaurant and may or may not have fucked her.”

“I can pretty much guarantee he didn’t.” Wren says.

“How do you know?”