Page 103 of That Fake Feeling


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“That’sWalker’scar.”Ipoint at the silver 1960sAstonMartinparked outside my house.

“Andthat’sWalkergetting out of it,”Rosesays asIpress the button on the garage door clicker clipped to the sun visor.

Thealuminum slats roll up with a quiet hum, andIbring the car to a halt inside.

“I’llrun up and let him in,”ItellRoseasIturn off the engine and open the car door. “Seeyou inside.”

Ihoof it up the stairs and open the front door to seeWalkerwith a brow that’s unusually furrowed.

“Guessyou’ve seen the picture, then?”

“Yup.”Hesteps inside and kicks off his shoes. “Andspoken toAuntMags.”

Ah,Mom.Yes.MaybeIshould have asked her to keep the whole me-and-Rosething to herself for a bit.Itlikely wouldn’t have helped much, though.Duringour call yesterday, she was almost bursting to see me so happy with a woman who couldn’t fail to meet her approval.

“Hi,Walker.”Roseappears in the hallway beside me, carrying both our bags. “I’lltake these upstairs and leave you two alone.”

“Youshould stay,”Walkersays. “Itaffects you too.You’rean important part of this.”

Shedrops the bags at the bottom of the stairs, sighs, and follows us through to the living room like she’s doing it only because it’s her job.

“Oh,Jesus.”Ipull my trilling phone from my pocket.It’sa video call.Ilook atWalkerandRose. “Sterling.”

“Well, hello,” he shrieks in my hand.

“Yeah, just give us a second,”Itell him.

Isit on one of the sofas and propSterlingagainst a vase on the table in front of me.

“Oh, hi,Walker.”Sterlingwaves. “Gladyou made it in time.”

Iturn toWalker, who’s standing behind me. “Youguys arranged this?Yougot together to ambush me again?IsMaxgoing to walk through the door any second as well?”

Walkerstuffs his hands into his pockets and shrugs. “Wespoke, yeah.”

Rosestands at the opposite end of the sofa, out of eyeshot ofSterling, arms folded across her chest.Itap the cushion next to me.

Allher joy of the last two days is gone.Inits place is something that looks like a mix of sadness and pissed-off-ness.

Shesits on the sofa but as far away from me as possible, leaning awkwardly against the arm at the opposite end.

“Well,Iguess you’re both here about the photo?”Isay to my phone.

Sterlingclaps and grins like he’s theCheshireCat, who’s just stumbled across a vat of unguarded cream.Walkerpaces back and forth behind the sofa.

“There’snothing better than a wedding.Nothing!”Sterlingdeclares. “It’sgoing to be the best.Iwas thinking we could do it atChristmas.”Helooks off to the side, into the middle distance, like he’s seeing a vision. “Rosecould have a deep red velvet cape over her sparkling ivory dress, and we’ll get amazing pictures in the snow inCentralPark.I’llrustle up a couple ofA-list celebs to attend, thenIbet we could getAGoodLookback to cover it and—”

Thedoorbell rings. “Iwas only joking aboutMax.Isthis really him?”Arethey seriously ambushing me all over again? “Forfuck’s sake.”

Iturn around toWalker.Buthe’s already diverted his pacing and is heading toward the front door. “I’llget it.”

Roseshoots me some side-eye.

“Whatthe hell is going on?” she whispers through gritted teeth.

Shelooks at me like she’s tumbling into a deep, dark, bottomless pit.

Maxstrides in ahead ofWalker, head held high, shoulders back, hands in his pockets, full of all his usual swagger. “Hi, folks.”