Page 40 of Faking with Three

As I near the restroom hallway, I spot her. But she’s not alone. A woman is standing in front of her, blocking her path. Olivia looks uncomfortable, her posture stiff, and her eyes flicker toward me in what I can only describe as a silent SOS.

At first, my gut churns with anger. Charlie Green.She’s come to ruin another night for us. But as I step closer, I realize it’s not her.

The woman is younger, maybe in her late twenties, with messy blonde hair and wild eyes. She’s gesturing animatedly, her voice rising just enough for me to catch snippets.

“Oh my god, it’s really you! I can’t believe this! You’re from that new Love Lab series where all the creators are dating you,”she says. “I’m so jealous. Can you tell me where you interviewed for it?”

“I didn’t,” Olivia says looking stricken.

“Really? You don’t have to lie about it. Gatekeeping makes you ugly, you know?”

“I really should—” she starts when she spots me, relief bleeding into her features. “Marcus.”

The woman turns around at the mention of my name. “Oh my god,” she breathes, her hands flying up to cover her mouth. “It’s really you! I’ve watched every single video you’ve guest-starred in. I always thought you were the best part. Ethan’s funny, Jax is hot, but you—" She leans in slightly, her voice dropping to something conspiratorial. “You’re so... grounded. So real.”

I blink, completely thrown off. “Uh... thanks?”

She ignores my discomfort, turning back to Olivia with a sudden frown. “Wait, are you two here on a date?”

“Kind of?” I say, which is obviously the wrong thing because she seems to get upset by the second.

“You are really dating here. I told my friend—they told me it’s bullshit but I knew it’s not. I saw the way that Jax guy was staring at you, and him too,” she tells Olivia. I resist the urge to bury my face. I’m not that transparent, am I?

Olivia opens her mouth, but no words come out. She throws me a panicked glance, and it’s all I need to know that we’re in trouble.

“She’s just a friend,” I say quickly.

“You’re lying,” she says. Her voice starts to rise. “You’re off the market. How could you do this to me?”

I reach for Olivia’s hand without thinking, gripping it firmly. “Come on,” I mutter under my breath. “We’re leaving.”

“But the drinks—” Olivia starts, clearly still processing the situation.

“Screw the drinks,” I say, pulling her gently but urgently.

The woman steps forward, her voice now carrying through the bar. “Marcus! Wait! I just want to talk to you!”

Heads are turning now, people craning their necks to see what’s going on. My pulse spikes, and I tighten my hold on Olivia’s hand.

“Run,” I whisper, and without hesitation, she matches my pace as we dart through the crowded bar.

We weave between tables and patrons, ignoring the confused stares and murmurs that follow us. The exit is in sight, but the woman isn’t giving up.

“Marcus! Please!” she yells, her voice cracking. “Don’t leave!”

The moment we burst through the side entrance into the alley, I slam the door shut behind us. The night air is crisp, the scent of damp concrete and faint cigarette smoke lingering. My heart is still pounding in my chest.

Olivia leans against the cold brick wall, catching her breath. “What is it with us and dramatic exits?” she jokes, her voice a little breathless.

“It’s the universe’s way of humbling us.”

She chuckles softly, and the sound tugs at something deep inside me. The dim light catches the curve of her face, her flushed cheeks, the way her lips part as she exhales. She looks up at me, her green eyes glinting, and suddenly, the space between us feels impossibly small.

“You okay?” I ask, my voice quieter now.

She nods but doesn’t say anything. Her gaze flicks to mine, and there’s something there. My hand rests against the wall next to her, and I realize how close we are. Too close.

Or maybe not close enough.

---