Page 48 of Perfectly Faked

My smile wavers. “Wait, every question? How many questions are there?”

“Five,” Jaxon answers.

Uh-oh.

My stomach flip-flops.

Leo’s frown darkens, and I can practically feel his disapproval from across the table. He knows I can’t handle alcohol—not shots, not anything. Back when we were together, he’d always keep an eye on me if I even had one glass because he knew I had a weak stomach. One drink left me feeling queasy and lightheaded, so I usually avoided it.

Did I really just sign up for this? Yes, I did.

Do I already regret it? Yes, yes I do. But my competitive side won’t let me quit now.

I force a smile, trying to ease the tension. “Good thing I have my safety buddy here!” I nudge Leo with my foot under the table, but he doesn’t even crack a smile.

Jaxon looks down the table. “So who wants to compete against?—”

“I will,” Leo cuts him off.

Every eye turns to us as Leo stares at me across the table. The table stills as Jaz turns to her sister. “Pass the popcorn. This is going to be the best trivia game ever.”

We both know why he’s doing this. He’s stepping in to save me from kissing anyone else, and the realization makes me feel like I can hardly breathe.

If I lose, I’ll have to endure the ultimate punishment: watching him choose someone else.

And if I win?

Well, that’s the real problem. Because the one person I’d want to kiss is sitting across from me, glaring, like this is exactly what he’s trying to prevent.

EIGHTEEN

victoria

Leo tips his water glass to his lips, never taking his eyes off me.

“Hey, buddy, better not drink too much just yet,” I joke, knowing Leo has no problem tolerating a few drinks.

“I’m not the one who should be worried about it,” he mutters.

Sherrie turns on the TV mounted in the corner with the trivia questions. “Okay, who wants to take the first question?” Rourke asks.

He looks at Leo who just shrugs. “Ladies first.”

The question scrolls across the screen:What is the only Grand Slam tennis tournament played on a clay surface?

Sloan looks at me impatiently. “Come on, Victoria, you know this.”

I bite my lip.Unfortunately, I know almost nothing about tennis. “Wimbledon?”

Sloan and Jaz groan. “French Open,” Rourke answers for me.

“Wimbledon is grass,” Leo answers, looking frustrated that I missed it. Shouldn’t he be glad I lost the first one? Doesn’t he want to prove me wrong?

Jaxon places a shot glass in front of me. At least Sherrie was kind enough to only fill it halfway.

Leo’s concerned gaze meets mine from across the table. I know he wants me to give up, but that feels cowardly.

“Bottoms up!” I say, lifting the glass and swallowing it in one go, which I instantly regret. My esophagus burns like I just drank battery acid.

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