Page 41 of Axe Backwards
Suddenly, she was crying again. Big, fat sobs this time.
“I’m sorry, sweetie,” Lou said, rubbing a soothing hand down her niece’s arm. “The last thing I want is to make you feel worse.”
Vic covered her face with her hands. “I don’t want to have to explain to the world that I’m broken. I don’t want scorn. Or worse, pity. For once, I’d like my family to think I have my shit together. That my life is great. Is that so much to ask?”
As I peered over at her beautiful, tearstained face, I knew I couldn’t possibly say no to her.
A literal damsel in distress sat in the front seat of my car, asking me to pretend to be her boyfriend. To touch her and kiss her and take her out on dates.
In what universe would I ever say no?
I still couldn’t shake the feel of her lips, the scent of her hair.
The minute she kissed me, I was a goner.
Eventually, I’d have to deal with the shit my family would give me, but for Vic, I’d endure anything. I’d never have a chance for anything real with her, so I might as well enjoy faking it for a summer.
“I’ll be your fake boyfriend,” I said, keeping my eyes on the road. “We can do what we did this weekend. It’ll be easy. We already spend a lot of time together, and the town thinks we’re dating.”
Straightening, she examined me, the hope emanating from her breaking my heart. “I promise I won’t ask too much of you.”
That was the thing. She could ask whatever she wanted of me. She should ask more of others. Demand more and better.
She didn’t have to make herself small or minimize her needs.
She could be who she needed to be. She should be.
“You can ask whatever you want. I owe you. Not only for Tess, but for being my friend when I needed one. It would be my great honor to be your fake boyfriend.”
As she wiped her tears with the sleeve of her sweatshirt, she squeezed my biceps firmly.
I may have flexed a bit. Who could blame me? I’d landed my dream fake girlfriend.
“Thank you.”
“I’d like the record to reflect that I think this is a terrible idea,” Lou chimed in.
“I’m ignoring you.” Vic finally cracked a smile.
“Mark my words: by the end of the summer, you’ll either fall madly in love or hate each other’s guts.”
My new fake girlfriend scoffed. “You watch too many movies.”
“Kid, when you’ve lived as long as I have, you learn things. And this”—she pointed from Vic to me, then rubbed her hands together—“has the makings of an epic story.”
“Don’t be so dramatic,” Vic chastised. “You won’t tell anyone, will you?”
“Me?” Lou’s tone was one of disbelief. “Of course not. I love you and respect your choices. Even if those choices are baffling and misguided.”
“Thank you,” Vic and I said in unison.
“I’m gonna get ordained and officiate your wedding.” The comment sounded less like a prediction and more like a threat.
Vic laughed to herself as I took the exit that led to Lou’s assisted living facility.
I’d just put the truck in park when a doorman stepped out of the building. He took Lou’s bag from me while Vic gave her aunt a big hug.
“Thanks for a fun weekend,” the older woman said to me. “And take good care of my girl.”
