Page 73 of The Fake Out Flex

"Not at all."

"I do know that after college, I want to come back here. Is that dumb?"

"Again, not at all. Why would you think that?"

"Most kids can't wait to get away and start their own lives far, far away from where they grew up."

"You're not most kids. Do you, Evie, and don't care so much about what other people may or may not think."

"Food for thought. Thanks."

The sound of a van reversing catches our attention at the same time.

"Are you filming tonight?"

Fraser nods. "Yeah. I should get going. We're doing a dinner scene."

"But you just ate two burgers."

"So did you."

I blush. I'd been hoping he hadn't noticed.

"Which, for the record, is not a bad thing," he clarifies. "I'm impressed you can keep up with me."

"Right."

"Oh, by the way, I brought some malasadas." He points to a white paper bag on the coffee table.

"What are malasadas?"

"They're a Portuguese pastry. Similar to a donut but without the hole in the middle. I got a few different flavors. Try 'em. They'll change your life."

"Okay. Thanks."

He flashes me a smile, and then we start walking toward the window.

"Wait. Why did you eat if you're going to be having dinner?"

"We're filming a dinner scene. Not eating. Big difference. Mom says no one looks good chewing food, so we're under strict orders to nibble only."

"Reality TV is messed up."

"Welcome to my life."

We reach the window.

He turns to face me square on. "Should I…? Nah. Forget it."

"No, go on. Say it."

"It's nothing." He averts his gaze, and if I'm not mistaken, he looks kinda sheepish.

"Fraser."

"Fine. I was just going to ask if maybe I should get your number so I don't, you know, scare the life out of you when I come over again. I'm developing a stress ulcer thinking about what you're capable of doing to me with that umbrella."

I miss his joke, my mind unable to move past anything after when I come over again.

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