Page 27 of Play Fake

I’m reasonably certain she’s still fucking with me. That she thinks this is all a fun game. That she has no idea my confession is real, and there is nothing I want more in this world than to kiss her right now. To lay her down and show her while I might be awful when it comes to dating, I can make her body understand exactly how much I want her.

But if I give in to what I want, there’s no going back. No pretending. And I don’t know if I’m ready for that. So, we’re locked here, my lips inches from hers. The sweet scent of strawberry on her lips and the swell of crickets in the background.

Right before her phone buzzes and vibrates along the bed of the truck, knocking the wind out of the moment.

She jumps back, and her eyes dart to the phone. It lights up with a text message, and I follow her gaze. There’s no mistaking who it is or what it says, as it vibrates again and again with each successive message. Each one another nail.

Ezra:Thanks for coming tonight.

Ezra:Your support meant a lot.

Ezra:I have to be honest Zie.

Ezra:I miss you.

She rears back from me and snatches the phone up, tucking it into her pocket. I let her go, tucking my hands back into my pockets and crossing my legs. Trying to pretend like I didn’t just see what I saw until she lets me know whether or not she wants to discuss it. She puts another foot of space between us, and I feel it like a kick in the gut.

I guess I should be thankful I didn’t kiss her. That lover boy saved us the trouble of that disaster.

“The fucking nerve,” she grits out, staring up at the sky.

I guess we were gonna talk about it then.

“Bright side, our plan worked,” I shrug, trying to act nonchalant about the fact that what felt very much like a real something between us just seconds before is being interrupted by the ghost of her past.

“How do you figure?”

“He realized he missed you.”

“Does he miss me, or does he just miss what he now thinks he can’t have?”

“Thinks?” The question is out before I can stop myself because it’s doing a lot of heavy lifting in her declaration.

“He has a new girlfriend. He didn’t care that whole time. He was fine when he thought I was at home stuffing my face with Ben and Jerry’s and missing him, but now when he sees I’m out with someone new, and therefore no longer an option—nowhe misses me? Pretty fucking convenient.” She’s babbling on in a highly animated manner that makes me glad I’m not on the receiving end of this tirade.

“Or maybe when he saw you tonight, and remembered everything you had, it made her seem like a giant mistake in comparison?”

Why the fuck am I trying to help this guy out? I have zero idea. Other than I hate she thinks the worst. Her eyes soften and her focus returns to me. She’s studying me.

“Maybe,” she mutters and turns away from me again. “Far more likely he saw me with a football player and got his boxers in a twist over the idea of me sleeping with someone with a bigger dick than him.”

A laugh sputters out of me before I can contain it, and she gives me a grumpy look.

“I’m being serious here!”

“I doubt he was thinking much about my dick when he saw you in that,” I wave at her general being because she looks like a fucking smokeshow. It made me wish I got to see her dressed for revenge every day.

“Oh no. He was. Because he was thinking. Fuck, that’s hot. I’d fuck that. But I can’t fuck that because he’s fucking that. Fuck. What if he’s fucking her better than me? What if he’s bigger than me?” She mimics a stupid voice that’s intended to be an impression of him and that, combined with the faces she makes, has me in fucking stitches.

This chick is really something when she lets loose. And I think I might like it.Reallylike it.

“He’s probably at his apartment right now, asking her to measure it and tell him it’s the biggest one she’s ever seen. She probably is too. Ugh. Why am I even thinking about this? See. This is what happens when your ex texts you shit like I miss you. What am I even supposed to say to that? Exes are the worst.”

“Wouldn’t know.” I shrug.

“Right. Because you’re too good to bother with relationships.”

“That’s not what I said.”