Page 37 of Faking with Three

“Peachy,” I say, forcing a grin.

Marcus doesn’t say anything, just gives Ethan a tight nod before walking off toward the equipment. Ethan watches him go, then turns to me, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern.

“You sure you’re good?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I say, waving it off. But as I glance toward Olivia, now chatting with a kid near the concession stand, I can’t shake the feeling that something’s shifted—and not just with her.

CHAPTER 12

MARCUS

The phone callwith Kristy is spiraling downhill fast, as usual.

“I told you thisLove Labthing would blow up in your face,” she says, her tone sharp enough to cut. “Do you have any idea what Jill told me? That her friends’ parents are gossiping about you now? Do you even think about how this affects her before you sign up for these ridiculous stunts?”

I grip the edge of the car door, breathing deeply. Across the parking lot, a couple of people glance in my direction, clearly recognizing me. Just what I need.

“I think about Jill all the time,Kristy,” I say, keeping my voice calm. “This isn’t a stunt. It’s work. I’m trying to build something here.”

“Build what? A reputation as a joke?” she snaps. “You should be focusing on being a good role model for your daughter, Marcus, not chasing internet fame.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Jill knows I love her, and she knows I’m doing this for her too. I don’t need you questioning my parenting every five seconds.”

“Oh, so that’s why her field trip fee was late last month? Because you’re doing this for her?” she shoots back. The wordsland harder than I want to admit, and I exhale slowly, trying not to let her rile me up.

“Her fee was late because the check got caught in processing, not because I forgot,” I say, my voice tightening. “You know I handle my responsibilities.”

“Sure you do,” she says, her tone dripping with disbelief. “If you were as responsible as you claim, you wouldn’t be all over the news for dumping soup on someone.”

“That wasn’t me—” I start, but she cuts me off.

“Do you even realize how this makes Jill feel? She’s thirteen, Marcus. She’s at the age where this stuff matters.Fix it.”

Right then, I hear the click of boots on asphalt. I glance up, and my jaw nearly drops. Olivia Chase is walking across the lot toward me, her skirt shorter than anything I’ve ever seen her wear, paired with sleek black boots that demand attention. Her hair’s loose and glossy, catching the dim glow of the streetlights.

She’s a walking bombshell, and I completely forget how to form words for a moment.

“I’ll call you back,” I say into the phone, hanging up without waiting for Kristy’s reply.

“Marcus.” Olivia stops a few feet away, striking a casual pose that’s anything but casual. Her lips quirk into a smirk. “I’m bringing the oomph factor. Some people seemed to think I lacked that in the last video.”

My brain short-circuits. All I can manage is, “You look... stunning.”

She lets out a low laugh, glancing down at her outfit as if she’s only just noticed what she’s wearing. “Thanks. Figured I’d up the ante. You know, give the people what they want.”

Recovering slightly, I clear my throat. “You don’t have to read the comments, you know. Not all of them are going to be nice.”

Her lips curve into a half-smile, but there’s a flicker of something behind her eyes—something she’s trying hard to mask. “Don’t worry, Marcus. I’ve got thick skin.”

I shake my head. “That doesn’t mean you need to let people tear you down. You’re doing great, Olivia. Don’t let a few trolls tell you otherwise.”

Her smile softens slightly, and the tension from my call with Kristy melts away for a brief moment. She’s more than just a team member on this wild experiment; she’sformidable.And right now, she’s dressed to kill—and making my pulse spike in ways it shouldn’t.

We walk toward the entrance, the distant sound of laughter and country music spilling out onto the sidewalk. I glance at her again, stealing a quick look at the way her skirt sways with each step.

Damn, Marcus. Focus.

Inside, the bar is a mix of rustic charm and modern flair—dark wood paneling, neon signs glowing softly, and a small stage at the far end where a band is setting up. The smell of barbecue wafts through the air, mingling with the faintest hint of whiskey. It’s cozy and intimate, perfect for what we’re trying to pull off tonight.

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