Page 45 of Faking with Three

She narrows her eyes at me. “Liv, don’t brush me off.”

“I’m not,” I insist, even though I am. “Really, it’s under control.”

She doesn’t look convinced, but she lets it go, reaching out to pat my hand. “Well, if it isn’t, you know where to find me.”

“I know,” I say, squeezing her hand.

“Wait a second though—the project you mentioned, does that have something to do with the nuisance that hag of a woman mentioned in her interview.”

I groan. “It’s not a nuisance, and kind of?”

I’m glad my mother hates the internet. I know she won’t like the concept of Love Lab, or the fact that Marcus is involved. I can’t even explain the whole concept of fake dating to her either because I’ve already slept with two of them. Ugh, this is a whole mess. But I need to pull up my big girl pants and figure this one for myself.

“Now, are you staying for dinner? Or are you sneaking back out to have another date with one of your three suitors?”

“Mom!” I groan, laughing despite myself.

“What?” she says, all innocence. “I just want to know which one to root for.”

I shake my head, smiling faintly as I look around the familiar kitchen. For the first time in a while, I feel like I can breathe. My mom might be teasing me relentlessly, but she’s also my anchor in this chaos. And maybe, just maybe, I can get through this mess out one step at a time.

CHAPTER 14

ETHAN

I scrollthrough the latest comments on our WeTube account, my thumb lazily flicking up the screen. The engagement is off the charts. Fans are practically foaming at the mouth for more content, and thanks to Charlie Green’s dramatic public breakdown, our channel hit over 200k subscribers in just three weeks. It's ridiculous, really.

I tap on the app’s story feature and post a quick video of myself grinning like an idiot. “Hey, Love Lab fam! Thanks for all the love! We see you, we appreciate you, and we’ve got more coming your way. Stay tuned for some big updates. And yes,” I add, winking at the camera, “we’ve seen the ship names. Keep ’em coming.”

I end the story and toss my phone onto the couch. The fans want a live session. Soon. I should be excited—hell, I am—but the last few days have been... distracting. Olivia. Always Olivia. Her date with Jax. Her date with Marcus. I shouldn’t care. It’s just for the channel.

But I do care.

The last episode, the one at the bar, has been playing on a loop in my head. Marcus and Olivia sneaking off together after the fan incident didn’t help. I haven’t seen her since, and it’sbeen eating at me. I finally caved this morning and sent her a text, asking her to come over. Now I’m waiting, restless. What am I even going to say?

A knock on the door pulls me out of my thoughts. Before I can even stand, the door swings open. Olivia steps in, her hair loose around her shoulders and a grin on her face like nothing is amiss. And for her, nothing is.

“Who’s hungry?” she announces, kicking the door shut behind her.

My stomach flips—not from hunger. “You really need to work on your knocking etiquette,” I say, leaning back on the couch, trying to look unfazed.

She plops the bag down on the coffee table and flops onto the couch beside me, completely at ease. “If you didn’t want me barging in, you wouldn’t have texted me to come over.”

“Fair point.” I gesture to the bag. “What’s in there?”

“Snacks. Obviously.” She starts pulling out an assortment—chips, candy, even a tub of cookies. “Figured you’d be too busy obsessing over the channel to eat.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Obsessing? That’s a strong word.”

She smirks. “You posted three stories today. Strong word or accurate?”

I open my mouth to argue but stop myself. “Fine. Accurate.”

As she opens a bag of chips, I take the chance to really look at her. She’s wearing a simple T-shirt and jeans, but she looks... radiant. Relaxed. Like she doesn’t have a care in the world. Meanwhile, I’m sitting here wondering why the thought of her with Jax or Marcus makes me feel like a damn idiot.

“So,” she says, breaking the silence, “what’s so urgent that I had to bring snacks and save you from starvation?”

I scratch the back of my neck, unsure how to ease into this. “I wanted to talk about the channel.”

---