Page 34 of Fake

“No.” I speak too quickly. Too sharply. My voice is intense. Mina’s gaze darts my way and she frowns, then holds up her hands.

“Fine. Fine. No worries. I said I’d do a thing, so I’ll do the thing. I’m just getting weird signals from you and honestly, this whole day’s got me wondering if I should be looking for hidden cameras or something.” She finishes the sentence with a shrug and silence charges the atmosphere of the car.

My jaw pulses in frustration. With myself. With her. With everything that’s happened in the last several months. She’s waiting for me to explain my strange behavior. Hell, I’m waiting for me to explain my strange behavior.

“I’ve had a lot to drink,” I finally say, even though we both know I was perfectly sober before I got behind the wheel.

Mina lifts her chin like she’s assessing the statement, then shakes her head and lets it pass. Now it’s her turn to watch the bugs dancing under the streetlights.

“Maybe that explains it.”

She doesn’t sound convinced. Her brows furrow as she sighs deeply.

“I know it’s none of my business?—”

I snort. “But you’re going to make it your business anyway?”

She huffs a sigh and shakes her head. “…but whatever you’re trying to run from isn’t going away on its own. You’re not letting yourself feel whatever it is, which means you’re not processing, so it’s just sitting in there, festering. It’s only going to get worse.”

Scowling, I glare out the window. “Who says I’m running from something?”

“Maybe you’re not, but after watching you with your family, something tells me you are. And call me crazy, but I hate to watch anyone self-destruct. Even The Prince of Darkness.” She offers the name with a smile. Not a barb, but a friendly jab.

I swipe a hand down my face. “I’m not self-destructing.”

And I’m tired of people saying I am. I’m setting boundaries and making sure they don’t get crossed. I’m doubling down on doing good work for people who deserve it. Feels more like self-preservation to me.

“All right, then.” Mina gives me one of those looks you save for awkward situations with people you don’t want to offend. “I think it’s probably time to call it a night.”

“You’re probably right.” I grip the steering wheel and sigh.

Mina puts a hand on my arm, and that jolt of what-the-holy-fuck stops me in my tracks. “Think about what I said,” she says, her voice soft. “I think there’s more to you than smirks and snark and all this villain era BS. I think maybe you’re working through something and, well, you don’t have to work through it alone.”

I start to thank her, but I’ve already blurred my boundaries too much tonight. I close my eyes and clear my throat instead.

“I can take care of myself,” I growl.

With a sad shake of her head, Mina blows a puff of air past her lips. “Says the man who paid his interior designer to go to his birthday party rather than deal with whatever’s going on in his life.”

Her eyes flash and she shoots me a grin that says, “So there.”

I put in a request for a scathing comeback that my brain completely ignores, so after a few silent seconds, I guide her back to her car, leaning down before I close the door. “Good night, Hot Mess.”

“If you say so, Sweet Prince.” Mina lifts her hands and waves as she pulls out of the spot. I return the gesture as her words replay in my mind.

…you don’t have to work through it alone.

As much as I’d like that to be true, tonight has shown me one thing for sure:

I can’t trust myself around Mina Blake.

FOURTEEN

Mina

“Oh my God, Fallon. You'll never believe how awful tonight was.” Perched on the edge of my best friend’s couch and still wearing my red dress, I drop my head into my hands, then spread my fingers to peep at my friend’s reaction.

“I've got a huge case of déjà vu.” Fallon sits beside me, hair up, PJs on. We look just as mismatched as I did with Nathan at the party. Well. Not just Nathan. His entire family was significantly more casual than I expected. I stuck out like a sore thumb. A bright red, very sore thumb. Which was only the beginning of my humiliation.

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