Page 61 of From Fling to Ring

That’s a lot from one-word-Sarge, but really?

“How do you know about my book? And he’s not a douchebag, either,” I hiss.

“Daley, get a grip. Everyone knows. There are no secrets here. We’re the Freekly.” He lets loose with a booming laugh, deep and raspy thanks to years of smoking unfiltered cigarettes.

Nobody knows how he is still alive.

“Well, he’s not a douche. He’s nice.”

He raises an eyebrow at me and I know he’s got my number. “Objective journalism. It’s a thing. You know, that little ethical code they talk about in our profession where you’re supposed to avoid conflicts of interest?”

I cross my arms. “Sarge, where are you going with this?”

I totally know where he’s going. I’m just playing dumb.

“Do I need to spell it out for you, miss I’m-dating-a-hockey-player-who-I’m-pretending-not-to-like?”

Goddammit. I am so busted.

I look around and see that Michaela’s now chewing Tyler’s ear off. She’s not going to say anything, is she?

“Lucy, I’m not like most of the other people here going through life with their heads up their ass. I may not say much, but I see everything. And I saw you come in here last week wearing some guy’s shirt. You probably thought no one would notice because we don’t pay attention to things like that here, but you don’t wear men’s clothes, and so I did notice. And, maybe not so coincidentally, that shirt just so happened to be the same size as Mister Handsome Guy over there.”

I want to run. Sarge is right, he observes all, even if he doesn’t say much, and his words are a sort of kindly warning.

“Get it together, Daley,” he says and wanders off.

Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck.

A second later there’s a hand on my elbow. I swing in the direction of the touch. “Hey, Tyler, wanna get out of here?—”

But it’s not Tyler.

“Don’t leave yet,” Michaela says. “Everyone is having such a nice time.”

“Oh, hey. I have a massive… headache,” I lie. “And Tyler needs to catch a flight. But don’t worry, I can stick it out longer. This is a great little gathering, Michaela. Thank you for putting it on.”

“You betcha. Hey, that Tyler’s really something,” she says admiring him from across the room. “Is he part of your research?”

Stomach drop.

“Oh, well, um, sort of, yeah.”

“I don’t know, Lucy. He doesn’t seem like a jerk to me. Not at all.”

I look at her with wide eyes. “Oh, he is. You wouldn’t believe it.”

She frowns. “Really?”

I nod vigorously. More lies. “Yes. Totally.”

She shrugs. “Well, what do I know? Hey, what’s up with the bathroom article?”

Ohthankgod. Change of subject. Although this isn’t exactly the thing I wanted to talk about, either.

“Right. As you know, I ran the survey in the paper and got a ton of responses from the readers. I’ve narrowed them down to the top three. Tomorrow I’ll check them out and take some photos.”

Michaela looks excited. “Oooh, tell me which are the worst.”

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