Page 98 of The Fake Out

I shrugged.

“There’s my girl.”

I spun at my father’s voice. He stepped up beside me and gave my shoulder a squeeze. “I’m so proud of you. Did you see them?”

“Uh…” I shook my head.

“Damn, Gi.” He chuckled. “Come here.” Turning on his heel, he dragged me over to the set of paintings. There were about twenty lined up in frames along the front of the room.

My three pieces were set up side by side in beautiful gold frames. I swallowed at the sight of them lined up with paintings by other artists. Wow. My work was currently sitting on the auction block.

My eyes pricked with emotion, and I bit it down hard to stop the tears from forming. Blinking furiously, I cleared my throat. “It’s cool.”

“It’s talent and hard work,” my father corrected. “Your mom would be so proud.” Pop shook his head. “Not to say she wouldn’t be proud every day, because she would, but she always hoped you’d stay as excited and confident.”

As a kid, I had been. Always demanding they frame and hang my creations. Somewhere along the way, I had lost that. But someone was determined I get it back. I glanced over my shoulder. Across the room, Emerson met my gaze and gave me a quick nod before turning back to his conversation with Asher Price.

“She’d like him too,” my dad said quietly.

I spun back to him. That wasn’t a statement my father had ever made about one of my boyfriends, and yet…

“We’re not…” I swallowed and shook my head. “A thing.”

Pop cocked a brow, and I braced myself for twenty questions.

“Who’s ready for a toast?” Linc called, with Mila and Eli on his heels. I couldn’t say I minded the interruption as he handed out drinks. “Don’t worry,” he said as he handed one to Pop, “yours is club soda. So you get the sparkle and none of the bad heart no-no.”

We all clinked, and just as we were taking that first sip, a small bell rang, signaling that the auction would begin in five minutes. My stomach fluttered. I wanted to be confident in the moment, so I forced my shoulders back and inhaled deeply.

“So what’s the etiquette for this shit? Like clap or jump up and yell ‘hell yeah’?” Linc asked.

Mila sighed. “We went through this.”

“He knows.” Eli shook his head.

“You’re going to behave, right?” I asked Linc. If he got up and started a wave or something when my first painting sold, then I could guarantee this would be my first and last auction here.

“We discussed rules.” Eli raised a brow.

“Don’t worry, I won’t embarrass you, babe.” He gave me a small shimmy. “We are full of classy today.”

“Eli and I have a plan to keep a lid on him,” Mila assured me, pulling me in for a side hug.

“Gianna!” Avery whisper-yelled as she approached. When she looped her arms around me, I took a heartbeat to savor the gesture. “This is so amazing. I can’t wait to hear the gavel bang when you sell your first painting.”

Behind her, the rest of the Revs appeared.

“Hey, Gi.” Chris held a fist out to me. “Congrats.”

I smiled at my brother, but my focus was quickly stolen when Emerson stepped out from behind him, eyes shining. For a long moment, I couldn’t look away. My palms were clammy and my heart was racing. What I needed in this instant was a real hug. And maybe a pep talk. But Chris was here, and Em and I weren’t supposed to be a thing. Kyle elbowed Em, pulling his attention away from me and breaking our connection.

“We should sit,” Avery said. “I’m totally getting the eye from Wren.”

We slowly shuffled to the section that had been roped off for us. As I waited for Mila to fill the next open seat, I rubbed a hand over my stomach.

Chill, Gi. This is going to be amazing.

Letting go of these nerves was easier said than done.

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