Page 93 of Don't Go Faking My Heart

But then, Ash likes jerks. I'm not a goofball like Greg, but I'm not a manipulative bully like Frank or Philip.

Am I? Something is changing between us. Does that mean she sees me as a jerk? Has she caught glimpses of the darkness in me that I've tried so hard to keep tamped down?

No. I can’t believe that. If she’s seen that darkness, she’s not attracted to it.

Is she?

"Bye, guys!" Ash's mom says.

"Bye!" Ash hangs up with a laugh. "They're not even trying to be subtle."

I look down at the picnic without focusing on anything.

"Rusty?" Ash waves her hand in front of my face, and my eyes snap back into focus. "You spaced on me. Everything okay?"

"You have a thing for jerks."

"Yeah. I used to have terrible taste in guys."

My head flies up. "Used to? Last week when Philip showed up, you looked thrown. Your friends were desperate to get a buffer between you two."

Ash frowns, looking deep in thought. "I know, but I honestly can't remember what I ever found appealing about him."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. I don't know how I ever liked him, let alone wanted to prove anything to him."

My heart hammers in my throat. "It's barely been a week. What's changed?"

She takes a bite of her burger, then licks the grease off her pinky. She chews for a moment. "What's your favorite sport?"

"Pardon?"

"What's your favorite sport?"

"Don’t tell Duke and Sonny, but baseball."

"Okay, baseball. Let's say there were only two teams in baseball, and one was a bunch of players who train hard, play hard, and treat their fans with respect and the other was a bunch of players who suck at life and mock their fans while trying to cheat the whole time. Whose jersey would you wear?"

She’s painting me in too good a light. “What if your team sometimes storms the mound when a player gets hit? What if they want to retaliate? What if they?—”

“What if they’re human?”

“Worse.”

She grabs my hand. The one with the scar. “Not worse. Human. I can handle rooting for humans who try and fail and try again if those humans can handle having a crazy superfan who paints her face and screams too loudly for them to win the whole time.”

Human.

Does this mean she’s seen the way I storm the mound and … accepts it?

Accepts me?

I press my lips inward, not daring to smile. Not daring to cry. My voice is thick with emotion, but I try to keep it light. “I think the team is just happy their superfan cares.”

"That’s a relief.” Ash’s lips pull into a slow smile. "Because your jersey is way cuter. When in doubt, always root for the team with the cutest jersey."

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

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