Page 68 of Faking It Right
“Everyone needs to get in there right now,” I hissed, shooing Harley with my hands. “I need to talk to her alone first.”
Harley frowned. “That’s not a good idea. We should present a united front.”
“No, I need to explain the situation to her. It’s the least I can do.” I pushed against his chest. “Please, give me five minutes.”
“Ryker, I think?—”
“Kitchen. Now.” I pointed for emphasis, my tone leaving no room for debate.
The doorbell rang a third time, more persistent than my alarm clock on Monday morning when I was desperately clinging to denial that another week had begun.
“Fine,” he sighed. “Five minutes. But if I hear anything resembling a horror movie scream, I’m busting in.”
“Deal. Now, go!” I practically shoved him toward the doorway.
As Harley retreated, Sawyer and Gia peeked around the corner with identical expressions of mischief.
“You too,” I growled at them. “And tell Mom and Dad to stay put.”
“This is better than reality TV,” Sawyer whispered to Gia as they scampered into the kitchen, giggling like two conspirators in a heist movie.
Taking a deep breath, I smoothed down my shirt, ruffled my hair, then walked to the front door. After a last glance to ensure everyone was out of sight, I plastered on what I hoped was a welcoming smile and opened the door.
My first thought was that Mom hadn’t been exaggerating about Maylin being a “nice girl.” She stood on our porch like the poster child for preppy college students, clad in a soft blue cardigan buttoned over a white blouse, a knee-length plaid skirt, sensible flats, and wire-rimmed glasses perched on her nose. Her dark hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail, and she clutched a small purse as if it contained the secrets of the universe.
The tension in my shoulders relaxed. She was normal. Perhaps even too normal. She looked like someone who volunteered atanimal shelters and baked cookies for her study group. The evening might be awkward, but maybe I’d get lucky, and it wouldn’t turn into a nightmare blind date filled with bizarre hobbies or boundary issues.
“Hi, Maylin,” I said, mustering my best polite smile. “I’m Ryker.”
She gave me a small nod. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Please, come in.” I stepped aside, gesturing for her to enter. “Sorry for the trouble. My mom can be enthusiastic about these things.”
Her voice was soft and pleasant as she stepped inside. “Oh, I understand.”
I closed the door behind her, already plotting how to break the news about Harley and me.
But without warning, Maylin’s demeanor shifted. She reached up with surprising quickness, capturing my chin between her thumb and forefinger. With scientific precision, she tilted my face from side to side, inspecting me as if I were a rare specimen under a microscope.
I froze, too stunned to pull away while she scrutinized my features with narrowed eyes. After a moment, she nodded with apparent satisfaction.
“Huh, so this is what you look like in this lifetime,” she remarked matter-of-factly, as if casually commenting on the weekend forecast.
I blinked, grappling with her words. “I—what?Thislifetime? What?”
The unmistakable sound of muffled snickering escaped from the kitchen. Fantastic. My family and Harley were eavesdropping and already found the bizarre encounter a riot.
Maylin released my chin and took a small step back, unfazed by my bewilderment. “Oh, don’t worry about it. We’ve known each other in eight hundred and forty-seven lifetimes so far.” She waved her hand dismissively. “You’re not always this cute, you know. During the Dark Ages, you were a plague-ridden rat catcher with a face so hideous that even lepers would cross the street to avoid you.”
I opened my mouth, then closed it again, completely at a loss for words.
“But I’m thrilled to see I hit the jackpot this time,” she added, reaching up to pat my cheek. “You’re quite handsome in this incarnation. How exciting. This bodes well for us.”
The snickering from the kitchen grew louder. I heard Sawyer’s muffled “Holy shit,” followed by Gia’s barely contained snicker. Harley’s deep chuckle joined the fray, and I stood there, utterly speechless for the first time in my life.
Maylin tilted her head, studying me with a small frown. “You don’t remember me, do you? That’s okay. It happens sometimes. The memories usually come flooding back around our third date.”
More laughter erupted from the kitchen, no longer attempting to be subtle. I shot a glare in their direction, but it only fueled their amusement.
