Page 134 of That Fake Feeling

Emilyswings her long, dark, wavy hair over her shoulder as she claps.Theapplause, cheers, and my trembly whistle get even louder.

Asthe appreciation dies down,Emilyturns her attention to the room.Mystomach clenches, andIhave a sudden urge to run to the bathroom.Andpossibly not come back.

“Thankyou, everyone, for making the opening of our firstManhattanpub such a great night.Thankyou to all the staff who worked so hard to get it ready in time for us to open the doors this evening.”Sheraises her eyebrows. “Andthat was no mean feat because the doors were stuck fast earlier, and we weren’t sure they actually would open.”

Shepauses for a wave of chuckles.

Emilycommands the stage, whileWalkerstands off to her side watching her in awe.

“Thankyou to all our family and friends who’ve traveled to be here tonight.ToWalker’saunt and uncle for their contribution in the form of dance.”Shegestures at my parents, who bow and curtsy in gratitude for the acknowledgment. “Butthank you most of all to the best business partner anyone could wish for.”

Shereaches to grabWalkerby the plaid sleeve and yanks him closer.

“Healways pushes me out front to speak first but, boy, does this man know how to choose the finest barley.Ifhe hadn’t started brewing up a storm in his college room—nearly getting evicted in the process—we wouldn’t be here now.”

Thepart ofWalker’scheeks still visible above his facial hair turns pink as she takes his hand and raises it. “Thisis the man responsible for it all.”

IgiveWalkeran extra loud whistle.

Hewraps his hand overEmily’son the microphone and leans in.

“Truthbe told, this woman is the brains behind everything.Imight make a good beer, but this is where all the business came from.”Hepoints at the side of her head.

“Anyway,”Walkersays, taking the mic from her, “we have one more special thing to unveil this evening thatIwant to tell you about.”

Thebeer glass shakes in my hand asItake a sip to try to calm my increasing nerves.Rosesmiles up at me and rests her warm hand on my lower back.Sheknows how anxiousI’vebeen about tonight.Butonly part of the reason for it.

“Mygreat friend, who also happens to be my cousin,”Walkertells the room, “has been sitting on a talent for way too long.Fortunatelyfor all of us, he’s flexing his creative muscles again for the first time since he was a teenager.AndsinceI’mnot one to pass up the opportunity to exploit a family member,Iasked him to create something special for this most special ofToastedTomatolocations.”

Walkermakes eye contact with the bartender, who’s holding onto a cord attached to the drop sheet covering the wall behind the bar.

Myheart beats in triple time.It’sreally way too soon for me to have taken on something with this amount of responsibility.ButRoseand the guys all egged me on, told meIcould do it, andIdidn’t want to let them down.Ihope to fuckI’mnot about to.

Ireach around my back for the reassuring sensation of lacing my fingers withRose’s.Shegrips them tight.

“Ifyou’d like to turn around,”Walkercontinues, “you’re about to witness the unveiling ofConnorDashwood’sfirst-ever commissioned artwork.Atleast,Ihope it still counts as a commission if it’s your cousin who’s asked you to paint a wall of his new pub for free.”

There’sa rustle as everyone turns around.Myhand gets sticky againstRose’sasI’mflooded with hot panic.What’sabout to happen is possibly more exposing than me dancing naked on the bar.

There’sno way out, though.

Walkernods at the bartender, who tugs the cord, sending the drop cloth falling to the ground.

There’sa gasp and burst of clapping as everyone takes in the giant mural.

Roseyanks her hand from mine and bounces beside me as she slams her hands together in the heartiest of applause.Sheknows how hardI’veworked these last few weeks and has been itching to finally get to see the result sinceI’verefused to tell her anything about it.Andfor good reason.

“Connor,”Walkersays. “Comeup and explain the story behind it.”

“I’mnot going without you,”Iwhisper toRose, leading her through the revelers to the front of the stage.

Westop next to my parents, whereIbrush a quick kiss against her temple and move my mouth to her ear. “Ilove you.”

Shestrokes my cheek. “Loveyou more.AndI’mso proud.”

Ihope she still feels that way in a few minutes, because the anxietyIhad before the drop cloth fell is nothing compared to the vomit-inducing nerves gripping my insides now.

Idrag myself away from her and hop up next toWalker, who hands me the mic and steps back next toEmily, leaving me front and center.