Page 89 of Sinfully Yours

I roll my eyes. "I was not avoiding you."

"You absolutely were. You disappear for days, and then I see you and Liam all over everyone's social feeds at that gallery opening last night, looking like some kind of high-society power couple."

I freeze, my fingers caught in the web of necklaces. "We were not?—"

"Oh, please, Ava." She snorts. "You were in a red carpet level gown, and he was giving off brooding billionaire vibes. It was a whole aesthetic."

I open my mouth. Close it. Because damn it, she's not wrong.

Emily hums knowingly. "So. Lunch?"

I sigh. "Am I even allowed to say no?"

"Nope."

I laugh. "Fine. I'll meet you in thirty."

"Good girl." Her voice is all smug amusement. "And Ava?"

"Yeah?"

"Wear something cute. You're glowing lately, and I wanna see it up close."

I roll my eyes. "Hanging up now."

She's still laughing when I end the call.

* * *

Emily is already waiting for me when I get to Riverwalk Café, sitting outside beneath the string lights with two iced lattes and a plate of croissants.

"Finally," she teases as I sit. "I was starving."

"You ordered before I even got here," I point out, stealing half of a croissant anyway.

Emily shrugs. "Like I said. Starving."

We settle into an easy rhythm, sipping our drinks, catching up on all the wedding chaos I missed while pretending my life isn't spiraling into a high-stakes thriller.

Then, casually—too casually—Emily leans forward, resting her chin in her hand. "So. You and Liam."

I immediately choke on my latte.

Emily grins, clearly delighted. "I knew it."

"There is nothing to know," I insist, still coughing. "We're just?—"

"You like him," she interrupts, pointing at me with the straw from her drink. "You so like him."

I scowl. "Even if I did, what does it matter? It's not like?—"

"Ava." Emily sighs, reaching for my hand. "Look, I know you, okay? I know how much you overthink everything. And I also know that, despite your best efforts, you absolutely suck at pretending when it comes to people you actually care about."

I stare at her, my stomach twisting. "You think I care about him?"

She just smiles sweetly at me.

I groan. "I hate you."

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