My pulse spikes, half in worry, half in excitement. I swallow past a knot of tension. “Ask me anything.”
“Would you like to go?—”
A harsh laugh slices through the air. I jerk my gaze away from Lake, whirling around to face the noise behind me.
My ex leans against the wall, in the corner of the hallway several feet away, holding a beer bottle and his phone while sporting a closed-mouth smile that reeks of arrogance.
The hair on the back of my neck stands on end, but I try to ignore it and to ignore this twisting in my chest.
“Let’s go,” I say to Lake.
“No, let’s stay,” Jameson says, pushing off the wall. “So I can hear what you two have planned for your next performance. I’ve been dying for this moment since I saw the comments on the photo.”
I freeze, all the color draining from my face.
“Oh, you’re probably wondering how I know, right?”
“What are you talking about?” I ask, my neck flushing hot as I lie.
“Maybe stop talking,” Lake cuts in, stepping closer to Jameson.
My ex cackles, his breath smelling of beer. “A picture’s worth a thousand words. Or really, a comment is.” He shoves his phone toward us. I study the image of Lake and me from last night at the game, him blowing a kiss my way. When my gaze swings to the comment, I haul in a stuttered breath. There’s a comment from Jameson sayingThat’s so interesting.
And it’s right under one from Cedric.
The innkeeper in Evergreen Falls. The guy who checked us into the Chestnut Inn. We claimed we were friends, then told Cedric we’d become more.
With dread swirling in every cell I read Cedric’s comment. It’s harmless, really. A sweet, supportive remark. But I gulp because the damage is done.
Love this! And pretty sure I’m the guy responsible for taking these guys from friends to lovers! When they checked in at the Chestnut, they were definitely just friends…but like many of our guests, they left as something more.
I look up, my face hot.
Jameson grins, clearly pleased he’s caught me in the act. “You were faking it with him all along, weren’t you?”
I’m sick that he found out. That he, of all people, put it together.
Lake drops my hand to wrap an arm around me, holding me close. “There’s nothing fake here,” Lake says, firm and commanding.
Jameson rolls his eyes. “Touch her all you want. It’s clear it’s fake. Because why, Remy? You wanted to show me up? Prove you could get a date for the wedding before I did? Some friend you turned out to be.”
He’s awful. Absolutely horrid. What did I ever see in him? I scoff, ready to tell him off but another voice cuts in from behind me, stitched with worry and disappointment. “Is this true, Remy?”
My mother. My shoulders fall, and I go fire engine red as I whisper a feeble, “No.”
But my mother’s seen through the lie, and my own tell. She knows me too well. She raised me, after all, to fix relationships, so she can spot all the cracks too.
“It is true.” She clasps a hand to her mouth, devastated I’d do this. Ashamed I’d trick her and my whole family.
“It’s not fake,” Lake says, squaring his shoulders, standing up for me over and over again.
But I feel even worse now that he’s piling a lie upon a lie.
My mother lowers her hand, ignoring him, turning to me. “Why would you do this? You can just be honest.”
Sometimes, you have to stop doubling down. You have to stop lying. You have to stop pretending. No matter how much a man defends you.
I take a breath, ready to face the truth. “Because?—”
