Page 25 of The Temptation of Truth

“Look. Let’s just forget I said that, okay? It’s not like you’re going to last the whole eight weeks anyway.”

I frown. “What does that mean?”

“Oh, c’mon, Auri. I can’t even get you to stay at a dinner party with my bosses longer than a few hours, and you haven’t had a job in years. You can barely keep up with your chores most of the time. Being responsible for someone’s education? No. Either you’ll leave, or they’ll send you home.” He chuckles to himself, then I hear him take a sip from his coffee and swallow before the mug clinks back onto the kitchen counter. “I want you to enjoy this while it lasts. Forget I said anything.”

Sometimes, I wonder if he knows how much statements like that hurt me. It doesn’t matter if they’re said with a smile or veiled as a good-natured joke. My confidence is already fragile. One underhanded comment from him can beat it down for days. I bite the inside of my cheek and close my eyes, giving my head a shake as if I can rattle the memory of his words from my mind. I can’t, but I still try. Every time.

I don’t want to argue with him. It never works in my favor, anyway. My stomach churns, and my forehead stays creased, but I force a lightness into my tone that I don’t feel.

“Sure. Yeah. Forgotten.”

“So what else have you done?”

“Not much, really. I’ve spent the majority of the time since leaving California in the air. I’ve only been on the ground for a handful of hours, and now I’m in bed about to crash.”

“Eighteen hours in the future,” Brady jokes. “I guess I’m in your past now.”

I huff a fake laugh. “I guess so.”

“What about the drummer? Mabel Rossi.”

“What about her?”

“Have you met her yet?”

I lick my lips and open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. The question has me fumbling for words, and I don’t understand why. I think about the jet. About the room swapping. About our exchange in the hallway outside Sav’s suite. I mean to tell him, but I don’t. Instead, I force a fake smile that he can’t see, and I mention none of it. I lie. When I speak, I hope he doesn’t notice the odd, high pitch or slight nervous shake to my voice.

“Not really, no.”

“She’s always been kind of mysterious, you know? I feel like she’s the only one who hasn’t been mentioned in some sort of scandal.”

I swallow. “Huh. Yeah.”

“She’s hot, too, though.”

I force another light laugh, but this one comes out wobbly. “I guess. If you like the pixie punk rock thing.”

Brady chuckles. “Don’t be jealous. There’s nothing sexier to me than coming home to find my wife with soil stains on her knees and under her fingernails.”

His playful jibe draws a genuine smile from me. “Yes, well, I could do a mean winged liner back in the day.”

“Oh, I know. That’s how you hooked me. With the purple streak in your hair, black eyeliner, and ripped skinny jeans. It only took me a few years to earn my way out of the friend zone.”

I hum, my eyes fluttering shut as my body finally transitions out of fight, flight, or freeze.

“You’re still my friend, B. My best friend.”

“I’m just grateful the cool, popular, artsy girl finally gave the math nerd a chance. I’m so lucky.”

“Well, it was bound to happen when there were only five hundred people in our town,” I tease. “Statistics were in yourfavor.” A long yawn escapes me, and with it goes the very last dregs of my energy. “I’m going to fall asleep. Talk tomorrow night?”

“It’s a date.” Unlike mine, his voice has grown more chipper. “Oh, and don’t forget.”

“Hmm?”

“You should take a test soon.”

A jolt zaps through me, and my eyes snap back open. A test.