Page 19 of Faking All the Way
I pause, staring at the screen. How exactly do I explain what happened today?
ME: There’s been a bit of a strange development though.
I hit send before I can overthink it, then immediately regret being so vague. Now she’s going to be curious, and explaining this whole situation over text seems impossible.
My phone rings just a few seconds after the text goes through, but it’s not Sam calling back. It’s my mother.
“Hi, Mom,” I say as I lift the phone to my ear.
“Hey, sweetheart! I hope I’m not calling too late. I just wanted to check how you and Asher are settling in at the cabin.”
“Great,” I say automatically, going along with her assumption that Asher is staying here in the main cabin with me. “Everything’s perfect. The cabin is as beautiful as always.”
“Oh good, I’m glad! Anyway, I won’t keep you long, I’m sure you’re tired after your long travel day. But since you couldn’t stay long today with all the chaos, your father and I would love to have you both over for dinner tomorrow night. Just the four of us this time, so we can really get to know Asher.”
My stomach does a little flip. Another performance, another evening of pretending we’re madly in love when we barely know each other’s favorite colors. But we did our prep work tonight, trading basic information and establishing some kind of foundation for our fake relationship. Hopefully that’ll be enough to get us through a longer family visit.
“That sounds nice, Mom. I’ll check with Asher and make sure he doesn’t have any other plans.”
“Oh, I’m sure he’ll make time. That man clearly adores you—anyone with eyes can see that. Tell him we’re looking forward to getting to know him better.”
If only she knew how little either of us actually knows about each other.
After we hang up, I text Asher right away, pulling up the newly added contact on my phone.
ME: My mom wants us to come over for dinner tomorrow night. Just my parents this time so they can interrogate you properly. Are you up for round two?
Through the window, I can see him glance at his phone when it lights up, then pick it up to read my message. I wish I could see his face better. Is he annoyed? Regretting this whole arrangement already? I wouldn’t blame him if he was.
His response comes back surprisingly quickly.
ASHER: Of course. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t spend time with my girl’s family?
My girl. My gaze gets hung up on those words for a moment, which is ridiculous since this is all fake.
I look up from my phone’s screen and startle as I realize that Asher is looking over at me. My heart jumps as our eyes meet across the distance, and I give a little wave, not sure what else to do. He dips his chin in response, looking a little amused.
God, I probably look like a deer in headlights.
Trying to act natural, I pick my phone up again and send another text.
ME: Just warning you, my dad will probably want to discuss hockey stats for the entire meal. He’s been following your career apparently.
ASHER: I can handle hockey talk. Question is, can you handle watching me be charming for three hours straight?
I snort out loud at that. The man’s got confidence, I’ll give him that.
ME: I think I’ll manage somehow.
ASHER: We’ll see about that, bright eyes. I can be pretty irresistible when I put my mind to it.
This time, I do an actual double take. Holy shit, how did he come up with a nickname for me already? Maybe it’s what he calls all the girls he dates—or, in my case, pretends to date. That’s probably it, because it seems like he had that pet name locked and loaded.
ME: Should I meet you there? I can give you their address.
ASHER: Nah, we can head over together. Probably better to keep up appearances. I’ll meet you at the main cabin around 5:30?
ME: Okay, sounds good. And thank you again.
