Page 93 of Faking All the Way
“That sounds fun,” he says after a moment. “Let me grab my coat.”
We end up on a bench at the small park in the middle of town. It’s cold but not unbearable, and the sun is out, making everything bright. It’s surprisingly peaceful, sitting side by side with my father as we watch people walk by—but my mind keeps drifting back to that moment with Kat in the shower.
Edward glances at me after a while, his expression thoughtful. “You seem like you’ve got a lot on your mind today.”
I hesitate. Fuck, I don’t know how to talk about this with him. Don’t know how to voice what’s been churning through my head without admitting things I’m not ready to admit. Part of the reason I don’t trust people, part of the reason I built these walls in the first place, is sitting right next to me.
“Just a lot going on,” I say finally, keeping it vague.
“Problems with the Aces contract?”
“No, that’s moving along well. Looking good, actually.” I rub the back of my neck. “Should be finalized soon.”
He frowns slightly, his thick brows tilting downward. “It’s not about Kat, is it?”
I chew my lip. He’s guessed right, and I don’t know whether to deny it or lean into it.
“What’s wrong?” He rests one elbow on the back of the bench. “You two seem good together.”
“Nothing’s wrong. Things are great.”
And they truly are. Better than I expected, better than I know how to handle. I fall silent for a long moment, the question I want to ask sitting heavy on my tongue. The thing I’ve been turning over in my mind for days now.
“How do you know if it’s real?” I finally ask, my voice low.
Edward considers that for a long moment, his gaze distant. Probably thinking about my mom, about whatever they had before it all fell apart.
Then he says simply, “When their happiness matters more than your own.”
His response makes me think about my fears, my deep-rooted terror of giving my heart to someone who won’t care about it. Who would never put my happiness first. Who would use it against me or walk away without a second thought.
I frown, lost in thought, my mind spinning—but then my phone rings, jarring me out of it. When I dig it out of my pocket, Kat’s name flashes on the screen and my heart leaps a little at the sight.
I tap the screen to answer quickly, a smile already tugging at my lips. “Hey, what’s?—”
“Asher.” She cuts me off, and everything in me goes cold, the smile dissolving from my features. Her voice is nothing like the easy tone from this morning, strained with panic and pain. “I need help.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Asher
“What’s wrong?” I ask immediately, my gut clenching at how wobbly Kat’s voice sounds.
“I cut my hand with an X-acto knife.” It’s clear she’s trying to stay calm, but I can hear the panic just below the surface. “I think I need stitches. There’s… there’s a lot of blood.”
Fuck. I remember her telling me she can’t stand the sight of blood. She’s squeamish about it, gets lightheaded—that’s why she never got a tattoo. Protective worry floods through me, sharp and immediate.
“I’ll be there soon. Hang on, okay?” I spring up from the park bench, my mind racing through what I need to do, how fast I can get to her. “Keep pressure on it. Don’t look at it if you can help it. Keep your hand elevated above your heart.”
“Okay.” Her voice is weak and shaky. “Thank you.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Just hang on, bright eyes.”
I hang up, every atom in my body vibrating with the need to get to her immediately. Every second I’m not there feels like too long.
Edward is watching me, concern written across his face. “What happened?”
“Kat cut herself. Sounds pretty bad.” I glance around the park, trying to figure out the fastest way to handle this. My car is in the parking lot, but I can’t just leave my dad here on a bench with his busted leg and crutches. The urgency to get to Kat is clawing at my chest though, making it hard to think straight.
