Page 27 of Fake Game

Part of me is a smidge self-conscious, wondering exactly what she is thinking. In comparison to her bedroom, mine is dull. I don’t come in here for anything other than sleep, spending most of my time in my streaming room instead. So, other than my bed and dresser, there’s just a wall of limited-edition sneakers and a display case in the corner full of vintage horror movies.

I toss my black duffle into my closet before shutting the door, hoping that she won’t go snooping.

“There’s a fresh towel under the sink,” I explain to her as I grab my toothbrush from the bathroom.

It’s only when I sling my own towel over my shoulder and pick up my gym bag that she snaps out of her daze.

“Wait, where are you sleeping?”

“Parker’s.”

“But doesn’t he—”

“He’s in Bahrain for F1. McKinley Motors invited him and Syd. They won’t be back till late next week.”

“Oh.” She nibbles on her lower lip.

“Need anything else?”

“No.” The word is quiet, and it takes me a moment to see the discomfort swimming beneath her skin.

It’s not my place to push her, though. I managed to get her here. She’s safe. My job is done as far as I am concerned. I don’t need to get any more involved in her life.

“’Kay. Night.”

“Wait.” Her word stops me at the threshold of the door.

I throw her a tired look over my shoulder. “Yes?”

“Do you have tea?”

“Tea?”

“You know, that beverage made when you soak dried leaves in hot water.”

“I know what tea is.”

“Didn’t sound like it.”

Brat.

“We have tea.” And then, because I can’t seem to fucking help myself, I add, “Do you want me to make you some?”

That shine returns to her eyes again. “Yeah, herbal would be great. It helps me relax.”

I give her a nod before finally dipping from the room.

I head to the kitchen to turn the kettle on and catch my reflection in the microwave.

How did I get myself into this situation?

Why am I making tea for a five-foot-nothing sprite at 3 a.m.?

I run a hand over my face before dropping a chamomile tea bag into a plain white mug and filling it with hot water. I carefully carry the drink back to my room and find Deer perched on the edge of my bed, fiddling around on her phone.

“Your tea.”

“Thanks.” She grants me a small smile as she takes the steaming mug from my hands, her fingers grazing mine.

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