Page 33 of Ten Rules for Faking It
Chris kicked his feet up to his coffee table. “Maybe if you’re good enough. Press Play.”
When she did, Aran Kirk’s voice came through the speakersloudand clear. “Everly. I can’t wait to meet you. I have many things to teach you and learn from you. Our journey will be a unique one, but fear not,” he said, pausing to lean off-screen. When he came back, he held three orange balls in his hands. He started to juggle before speaking again. “I am used to the unexpected. Are you?”
Everly groaned. “Why would he end it with a question?”
Chris turned his head and stared at her.
“What?” Did she have popcorn in her hair?
“The question at the end was what you found odd?”
Everly laughed, then gave him a mock frown. “Juggling is a lost art.”
His brows shot up, and he sat forward, setting the popcorn bowl between them. Selecting three pieces, he tossed them up in the air and tried to catch them, missing all three.
Everly bit back her laugh and pointed at the screen. “He’s not right for me, but maybe he gives lessons.”
Chris scowled at her and picked up the stray popcorn, tossing it onto his coffee table. “Pass,” he muttered.
Laughter burst from her, and she snuggled farther into the couch, not even realizing she’d put her nerves away. “Damn right it’s a pass. All the way around.”
“Amen,” Chris said, scooping up some more kernels.
Pass. Pass. Pass.What the actual what?Pass. Pass. Everly’s eyes were gritty. She set the remote down to take a long drink.
“You okay?” Chris asked.
His soft voice broke the reverie she’d been stuck in, thinking about how she wasn’t going to find anyone.
“I guess. I’ve only liked three out of thirty-seven.” Those were some pretty bad odds.
“There’s plenty more,” he said, smiling at her. He reached out like he might squeeze her shoulder or touch her reassuringly but pulled back.He’s probably worried you’ll try to stuff another finger or your arm in his mouth.
Everly turned back to the screen, pressed the button to move the choices forward.
“Owen Baston, thirty-one, craft brewer. That’s interesting,” she said.
“You like beer?” Chris picked up his water, not looking at her.
“Not particularly, no. But it’s different, and I want something different.”
He had reddish-brown hair and a happy smile in the picture. He was handsome but in a rugged sort of way. She’d never really dated anyonerugged.
She pressed Play.
“Hi, Everly. This feels a bit strange. I’ve never even taken a selfie,” Owen said to the screen. Everly laughed out loud. “Thisisn’t the usual way I go about getting dates, but it felt like it was time for something different. When I heard you on the radio, aside from feeling mad on your behalf, I thought, ‘Man, I wouldn’t want to piss her off.’ I was immediately intrigued. Regardless of who you choose, good luck. You’re better than Simon.”
She was smiling when the clip ended.
Chris huffed out a breath. “I should get you a shirt that says that, in case you forget.”
Turning, she stifled a yawn and asked, “What?”
His eyes went darker. He had such long, enviable lashes. “You’re better than Simon.”
She smiled and, without thinking, reached for his hand. “Thank you. I’m okay. I realized I felt nothing when we broke up, so that was a pretty good indication it wasn’t important to me.”
Chris removed his hand from hers, and she had to fight against cringing.Right. Don’t touch his hand. Don’t touch him. He doesn’t like it, and the guy has been pretty accommodating about your handsy behavior.
