Page 32 of Text Appeal

In other news, Connor’s anxiety has jumped to me. He seems to be filled with grim determination as he leads the way with a firm grip on my sweaty hand. Sad to say, there are just some parts of your body on which you can’t effectively use antiperspirant.

It’s the usual bullshit messing with my head. He’s so hot and I’m so not. Which is nonsense. Shoulders back and tits out. I will not let my friend down. Because that’s what we’re becoming—friends. And it’s a beautiful thing.

The bar is on the street level of a boutique hotel. It’s over ahundred and thirty years old and charming as fuck. Everything is painted black apart from the scuffed wooden tables, matching floor, and the distressed mirror behind the bar. Vintage photos and paintings of boats and other seafaring paraphernalia hang on the walls. The place is packed tonight with plenty of familiar faces in the crowd.

And there she is…

Ava poses next to the bar with a drink in hand. Floral tattoos wind up her arm and the skirt of her floaty Grecian-style gown falls all the way to the floor. Her dark hair is in an ornate updo and a collection of fine gold chains hang around her neck. Such main character energy. The way she looks me over with a vague sort of smile. It might be welcoming, or it might be malicious. Odds are on the latter. You’d think she’d be watching him before me. If she really was in love with the man, wouldn’t she focus on him first?

Masseuses will be busy what with all the craning of necks and twisting of heads back and forth between us. It’s like it’s a tennis match. I am tempted to yell foul just for fun.

As anticipated, the differences between Ava and me aren’t subtle. Her body is lithe, her face is beautiful, and her vibe is cool as shit. Add in her being a talented artist and no wonder she held Connor in thrall for all those years. The woman has a confidence that I lack. But she doesn’t know that.

I smile widely and give my fake date’s hand a squeeze. No point delaying. We might as well do what we came here for and give the people what they want. He gives me a nod and we walk toward her as one.

It’s when her attention turns to Connor, however, that things get interesting. Now her smile falters and she seemsunsure. Which makes sense given his face is as blank as can be. He’s giving her nothing. We won’t be convincing anyone that he’s happy to be here, though that might not be a bad thing.

Smooth as can be, Connor slips an arm around my shoulders, tucking me in against his body like I belong there. Not an ounce of hesitation. All his earlier reserve is gone. Guess he was right about it coming naturally. An argument could be made against me overthinking every situation. I wrap my arm around his waist and go with it to the best of my abilities.

“Connor.” Her gaze hungrily roams the hard lines of his face. There’s no doubt she’s missed him. But judging by his body language, there’s also no doubt she isn’t getting him back anytime soon. It must hurt. I’d feel bad for her if she hadn’t tried to fuck with me.

He tips his chin. “This is Riley.”

“Hi, Ava.”

She ignores me completely, her gaze glued to the man at my side. “I was hoping you’d come tonight,” she says. “It’ssogood to see you.”

Nothing from him. And nothing from anyone else in the room either. They’re all too busy listening.

“I stopped by the garage earlier. I was hoping we could talk,” she continues with a coy smile. Her hand reaches out to touch him but stops just shy of contact. “There’s so much I want to tell you. A lot has changed, babe.”

As designated fake girlfriend, I have every right to get salty. Boundaries are being crossed and then some. But I keep my mouth shut and it’s the right choice. The expression on Connor’s face shifts away from neutral and closer to displeasure with everyword she says. By the time she finishes, he’s scowling down at her.

It takes a moment or two, but eventually she starts to squirm. Her gaze hits the floor, and her brows draw together in a look that appears close to confusion. Guess she doesn’t strike out often. But she doesn’t stay down for long. “Connor, please. I still love you. If we could just—”

“No,” he says. And that is all he says.

No one speaks. The whole world seems to hold its breath while Ava stands as still as a statue.

Connor turns to me and asks, “Can I get you a glass of wine or something?”

“Cider would be great,” I say. “Thanks.”

His arm slips from around my shoulders, and he moves farther down the bar to order. Ava has been dismissed and she knows it. Ouch. Though it only takes her a moment to stand tall and smile. “So,” she says, “you do know him, Riley. Who could have guessed?”

“Don’t be a dick. We met after you and I texted, as I am sure you’re aware.”

It takes her a moment to admit, “People in this town like to talk.”

“Yes, they do.”

She fusses with the fine chains around her neck for a moment. Straightens her dress and takes a deep breath. This cannot be easy for her. We’re watching the downfall of a former prom queen in real time. You can see the actual struggle on her face to keep from staring at him again. Though the funny thing is, when she watches Connor, it seems more possessive than appreciative.

But I know that usually only the people in a relationshiptend to understand the relationship. How it works and what keeps them together. Or what tears them apart, as the case maybe. But having met her and seen how she behaves, I believe Connor can do better.

“Thanks for the happy snaps,” I say. “You take a hell of a picture.”

She snorts. A moment later she says, “You never sent me any back.”

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