Page 42 of Perfectly Faked

Victoria crosses her arms “Why would I need a man when I have Big Bertha?” She sticks a finger between the cage bars, and the bird nearly snaps it off.

I lift an eyebrow, proving my point.

“Bertha, be nice!” Delilah says, before turning to Victoria. “Honey, I wouldn’t have Big Bertha if I could find me a nice man. Besides, a pretty girl like you should go on a date every once in a while.” Then she turns toward me. “And I think I found just the person to take you.” She winks at me, and Victoria covers her mouth to hide her amusement.

“Funny you say that, Delilah,” I begin. “Because Victoria and I were just heading out for a date.”

“Really?” Delilah’s face lights up. Judging by her reaction, I just spilled the best gossip she’s heard all week. “Oh, well, don’t let me keep you, then.”

“We’re not in a hurry,” Victoria says, stealing a brownie from my plate and feeding it to Bertha. No wonder that bird has weight issues.

She’s trying to avoid our “assignment,” but I’m not about to let Bertha derail my plans after risking my neck for him.That stupid bird owes me.

“Maybe I should just stay and make sure everybody is okay,” Victoria tries, turning to Delilah. “Is your heart okay? No fluttery feelings?”

“Oh, sweetie, my heart is as good as ever.” She places her hand on Victoria’s back and gives her a gentle shove out the door. “You have a fun night and tell me all about it tomorrow over coffee.”

So, Victoria regularly has gossip sessions with Delilah? It’s sweet—andunexpected. She could be at the rink or lounging at her parents’ house. Instead, she’s here, making time for Delilah.

Victoria opens her mouth to protest, but I place my hand on her back and wave at Delilah, knowing exactly where I’m taking Victoria tonight.

FIFTEEN

victoria

“This is not a date,” I tell Leo as soon as we reach the parking lot. “Eugene wanted us to work out our differences.” This is an important distinction, especially since Leo seems so amused to call it a date.

Leo smirks as he unlocks the car. “Call it what you want. Get-together, meetup, chance to hang out with your hot hockey friend—I don’t care.”

Another smile for the tally, another swoon for my heart. Meanwhile, every rational part of me screams to turn back now and avoid this whole disaster. Only problem is my apartment is still under repair, and my feet rudely don’t listen. Instead, they march me straight to Leo’s car like they’re intent on carrying out this plan, dragging me into a situation that’s all risk and no reward.

“Since I’m not letting you quit now, this isn’t up for debate,” Leo says, lifting an eyebrow.

“Okay, but what about the rules?” I say. “We can’t be alone together.”

He glances at me, his lips pressing into anI knew this was cominggrin.

“We won’t be alone. The guys invited me to Boots and Buckles. We’ll tell Eugene we went out on a group meetup. Take a selfie as proof.”

He opens the passenger door for me, like a real date would. I flash him a skeptical look and refuse to move. “What will you do if I don’t get in?” I ask, crossing my arms.

“Throw you in the trunk,” he says. “Don’t test me.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you had a few body bags in there,” I shoot back, deciding to climb in rather than take a chance that he actually might toss me over his shoulder again.

“Smart choice,” he replies, his grin widening.

He doesn’t look at me as he settles into the driver’s seat, but I can see the spark in his eyes. Normally, he’s all broody looks, but behind the scowls, he has this other side he rarely lets anyone see—except for me. I’ve known what it’s like to have his hands on me, to feel his soft breath against the curve of my neck, to melt under his kisses. Every time he touches me, it lights something inside both of us—hot, wild, and impossible to ignore.

But once I broke his heart, I knew there would be no second chances. And that’s the real punishment: being with him, but knowing I canneverhave him back.

I shift in my seat, facing the window so I won’t be tempted to stare.

Leo starts his sleek black car, the kind he never could’ve afforded in college. “According to Delilah, you haven’t been dating. Why is that?”

“I guess we’re skipping the small-talk part of the date, huh?” I ask.

“Oh, we’re way past small talk,” he says, pulling onto the road.

---