Page 2 of The Fake Out Flex

He wipes his hands on his jeans. "Not exactly."

"What are you up to?"

"Before I answer, let me remind you of the immunity afforded to me as part of concerned-big-brother mode. No threats can be made against me, nor can my physical safety be put into jeopardy."

"I make no promises."

A few beats pass.

"As I'm sure you're well aware, Bryce's wedding is coming up in a few months," Levi says delicately, the teasing gone, replaced by full concerned-big-brother mode activation.

It's in two-and-a-half months—seventy-one days, to be exact. Not that I'm counting.

"I'm aware. And I am totally fine with it."

I bypass the cheese knife, pick up a whole mini-wheel of Brie, and shove it into my mouth to prove just how totally fine I am.

Levi tries not to look horrified at my display of fine-ness. "Right. So, um, look. There's no easy way to ask this."

"Jushhh ashhhk."

He shakes his head, biting back a grin. "Do we need to go over this again, Ev? Chew, swallow, then talk."

I finish eating. "Just ask whatever you're going to ask."

"Okay. Fine." He flattens his palms across the countertop. "Are you still planning to go to the wedding?"

"I am."

People might think I'm crazy, showing up at my ex's wedding after the very public—and very humiliating—way we broke up, but I have my reasons for why I want to attend.

Levi rolls his eyes. "I still think that's kinda crazy, but whatever."

Reasons I haven't shared with anyone else, which is why he, the rest of my family, and my friends have all been trying to talk me out of going.

But, when needed, I can be just as stubborn as our mother, and I will be at that wedding.

"Do you have a date yet?"

"I don't."

"Just as I suspected."

"Your point?"

His lips stretch. "I have someone."

"Someone for…?"

"You. To be your date. To the wedding."

"You're setting me up? No. Levi, that's a terrible idea." I inhale some more cheese, but this time I chew, swallow, then ask. "Who? Please don't tell me it's someone from WHAT NOW. I'm sure they're lovely guys and all, but aren't they, like, twelve?"

It couldn't get much worse than attending Bryce's wedding solo…unless I showed up on the arm of a minor.

"They're in their early twenties, they just look?—"

"Underdeveloped?"

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