Page 73 of Faking Ties

“Have you told Stella?”

I shake my head. “I’ll wait until I get back tomorrow. We’re supposed to hang out then.”

“Do you two get along?”

“Surprisingly yeah. She gives off big-sister vibes, which is new since I’ve never had one.”

“Did your parents want more kids?”

“I don’t know. But my mom couldn’t have them herself, so she adopted me when I was a baby.”

“Have you ever wanted to find your real parents?” he asks.

“Fuck no. My mom is more than enough. She’s the best person I know.”

He gives me a soft look. “From what little I know about her, she seems like the best kind of mom.”

“What about your mom? You mentioned your relationship is strained?”

“It is. My mom was happy with just my brother, and when I came along, she didn’t want anything to do with me. I feel like I’m missing part of the story, though. My dad mentioned one time she almost died giving birth to me, but she never talked to me about it. It sucks, but at least I have my dad. He got me intofootball and encouraged me to use the sport as my outlet.”

“That sounds complicated with your mom.”

“Yeah, it doesn’t help that she blames me for the divorce. She says I was too much to deal with, getting into trouble all the time. That it caused too many issues in their marriage.”

“You know it wasn’t your fault, right?”

He glances at me, a flicker of pain crossing his face.

“Seriously,” I say, touching his arm. “It’s not okay that she told you that, that she put the blame on you when you were a child.”

“I hear you.”

“Hearing isn’t enough. You better start believing me, too.”

He snorts. “Okay, Ms. Team Captain.”

“Aha! You’ve finally admitted it. I’ve arrived in life.”

“You really have.” He twirls a piece of my hair around his finger. “Is there anywhere else you want to see while here?”

“Everywhere.”

“Everywhere?” He grins. “Well then, it looks like we’re going to explore every inch of Rome before we leave.”

“Great idea. Let’s not sleep until we accomplish it.”

“Did you think you’d be sleeping tonight anyway?” He gives me a heated look.

“I guess not,” I whisper, my need for him battling with my desire to see the city.

“Keep looking at me like that, and we’ll be on our way to the hotel. Fuck exploring the city.”

I keep staring at him, and he chuckles. “You’re going to be the death of me. Explore now, play later.”

“Oh, fine.” I sigh dramatically. “You’re no fun.”

“That’s offensive,” he says in his Valley-girl voice, reminding me of when we first met.

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