Page 44 of Faking with Three

“Do you ever get rid of anything?” I tease, pointing to the photo as we move into the kitchen.

“Why would I? That’s one of my favorites,” she replies, filling the coffee pot. “You were always so creative, first with the art, and now with your company.”

“Crayoning did make me a better storyboard artist for the games,” I say, smiling a little, but eventually, that fades. We sit in silence. I watch the dust motes swirling in the air from the sun streaming in through the window.

“Liv,” Mom finally says, her voice gentle but probing, “you know you can talk to me, right?”

I nod, swirling the coffee in my mug without drinking it. “I know.”

“Then spill. What’s going on with you? And don’t try to feed me some vague ‘I’m fine’ nonsense.”

I sigh, my shoulders slumping. There’s no dodging her—not when she’s in full mom mode. “Do you remember Ethan?”

She tilts her head, a small smile playing on her lips. “Ethan... as intheEthan? The one you were glued to every time he came over with his parents?”

Heat creeps into my cheeks. “That was years ago.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t remember. You used to draw little hearts with his name in your notebooks.”

“Mom!” I groan, burying my face in my hands.

She chuckles softly, leaning forward. “So? What about Ethan?”

I let out a long breath, my fingers tapping anxiously on the table. “He’s in town, we’re actually living in the same apartment complex. He’s actually part of this whole... project I’m doing. But... there might be... someone else.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “Someone else?”

I hesitate. “Maybe more than one.”

For a moment, she just stares at me, her expression a mix of surprise and amusement. Then she leans back in her chair, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “So it’s like Mamma Mia! Are we going to have a Greek island wedding? Should I start practicing my Donna Sheridan impression?”

I can’t help but laugh, even though the weight of everything feels anything but musical. “No, Mom. My life isnota feel-good ABBA sing-along.”

She smirks. “Could’ve fooled me.”

My laughter fades as I shake my head. “It’s a mess, though. I don’t know what I’m doing. Ethan... he’s been this constant in my head for so long. But then there’s…”

I bite my tongue before I take Marcus’s name. My cheeks heat at the memory of his cock sliding in and out of me as my fingers brushed over the smatter of hair on his chest. Mom definitely wouldn’t like that.

She leans forward. “Okay, I need details. Who are these other guys stealing my Ethan-loving daughter’s heart?”

“It’s not like that,” I say quickly, though I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince. “They’re his best friends. And it’s... complicated.”

My mom sips her tea, studying me over the rim of her mug. “Well, it sounds like you’ve got quite the decision to make. But let me ask you this—what doyouwant? Not what they want. Not what you think you should want. What does Olivia Chase want?”

I open my mouth to answer but close it again when I realize I don’t know. “I... I’m not sure,” I admit. “That’s the problem.”

She leans forward, her gaze steady. “Then maybe it’s time to figure that out, sweetheart. Because no one else can do it for you.”

I sigh. I already knew that, but I guess I needed Mom to say it to me, put things in perspective.

“Okay.”

She watches me keenly, but doesn’t push.

She watches me for a moment longer before shifting gears. “And what about this Charlie Green business? I saw her little spectacle on the news. What’s going on with that?”

I wave a hand dismissively, not wanting to drag her into that mess. “It’s fine. We’ll handle it.”

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