Page 20 of Fake It Til You Break It

“Ready now?” I asked.

He took a deep breath and nodded. “Ready.”

Music pounded from inside the warehouse, the noise muffled but unmistakable. Purple light glowed from the industrial windows set high on the side of the building, accompanied by rhythmic strobes of blue and pink.

If Jasper hadn’t known before, he surely must have figured it out by now. Still, as we approached the entrance, I had to ask.

“Do you know what this event is?”

A resigned sigh spilled from his mouth. “I’m aware.”

“And you’re sure you want to do this?”

He gave me a weak grin and lifted his shoulders in a casual shrug. “I’m a proud sponsor of the performing arts center.”

I chuckled and shook my head. Of course he was. And naturally, he felt an obligation to participate because of that. Most peoplejust signed checks. Jasper showed up with cash and emotional support.

That façade, however, crumbled the moment we stepped through the doors. His spine stiffened, his jaw clenched, and his shoulders crept toward his ears. His lips pressed into a thin line, even as his eyes rounded to near cartoonish proportions.

I was witnessing the consequences of his decisions unravel in real time, and I didn’t know whether to rescue him or simply revel in the abject chaos that was about to ensue.

Electronic dance music blasted from the sound system at maximum volume. The typical fluorescent bulbs had been replaced with UV counterparts, and a few extra fixtures had been added over the dance floor.

At a quick glance, I spotted plenty of twenty-somethings, but almost as many men and women my age and older. Most were half dressed, and all of them sported glowing neon paint somewhere on their body.

“I have made a terrible mistake.”

Jasper had to yell to be heard over the din, but it didn’t diminish the punchline, and I barked out a sharp, surprised laugh.

“Too late now,” I answered. “Come on, let’s get you suited up.”

He jerked around to face me, the purple glow reflected in his wide eyes. “What does that mean?”

I pointed toward a paint station and arched an eyebrow.

“No.” Jasper shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

Chuckling, I took his hand and pulled him toward the table lined with a rainbow of paints. “You can wash your hands,” I said, referring to the portable sink that had been set up beside the table. “Besides, it’s part of the experience.”

“Believe me, I’m experiencing it.”

I loved this unfiltered side of him, and I hoped to see more of it in the future. That didn’t mean I was going to let him off the hook, though. I waited patiently while he washed the aftermath of the accident from his hands, but I refused to let him hide behind his excuses.

“Okay, strip.”

He jerked back, a look of pure indignation on his face. “Excuse me?”

Still laughing, I reached for one of the fluffy brushes and a tub of glowing pink paint. “Shirt off. Let’s go. Chop, chop.”

“If you want to see me naked, you could just say so,” he quipped, resting his hands on his hips.

I smirked in challenge. “I want to see you naked.”

There had been stories of spontaneous human combustion floating around for practically ever. I had always kind of assumed they were bullshit. Until now. Until I witnessed it with my own eyes.

“Breathe.” With his eyes bulging and his mouth working soundlessly, I feared he might have a stroke right there on the spot. “I’m asking you to take off your shirt, not give me a public lap dance.”

He shook his head.

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