Page 99 of Don't Go Faking My Heart

Iwake up to see a text from Rusty time-stamped 5 a.m.

RUSTY

Morning, Gorgeous. Matt has the stomach flu, so I'm at the Farmer's Market in Orangeburg. Can I make you dinner tonight?

I squeal.

ASH

Hmm. That's tough. I have a busy schedule today of making awesome content and dyeing Pookie's hair.

Prairie

Nice try. I heard you call her Pookie.

Stockholm syndrome.

I stayed at your house. You were MY captor.

We both know you took over my place.

GASP!

Protest all you want. That bathroom has your name written all over it.

Geez Louise. A girl writes her name on the mirror in lipstick one time…

You wrote it twelve times in the shape of a heart around my side of the mirror.

*gif of little girl grinning*

You don't hear me complaining.

*blushing face emoji*

Gotta run. These peaches won't sell themselves.

Go forth and sell. <3

I hesitate, wanting to add one more thing but not sure if it's pushing us into unchartered territory. My finger raps against my teeth and then I remember our kiss …

That kiss …

My hesitation evaporates.

Miss you.

His response is immediate.

Miss you, too.

Waiting is a fate worse than death, so I walk around the house and find Lou on the deck, strumming her guitar and singing.

I collapse onto one of the chairs across from her and put my legs on the table between us.

"Look at you drunk on love," Lou says. "Tell me everything."

Thirty minutes of play-by-play detail later, Lou is smiling like a fool, and I'm floating.

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