Page 117 of The Guy Who Fake Dated Me

“She wants a belly rub.”

Sure enough, Holly rolled over with her legs in the air.

Brooke, of course, started scratching Holly. One of her back legs twitched like she was riding a bike.

“What’s that?” I pointed.

“It means she likes it,” Brooke said. “Try it.”

I made a face. “On her stomach?”

“Why not?” Brooke asked.

“Because her parts are down there.” This had always been a problem for me.

“Then stay up here, between her front legs.”

At this point Holly’s tongue was lolling out of her mouth.

“Just two scratches,” Brooke said.

I measured the distance with my eyes and knew I’d have to get closer. So I slid out of the chair and onto the floor, where I sat cross-legged.

Two rubs. I could do that. Then Brooke would let me go home.

I made it fast. My hand darted out, went back and forth, back and forth, then retracted.

Holly noticed and rolled to look at me.

“What?” I asked.

Holly then got all the way to her belly and crawled toward me.

“What’s she doing?” I asked in alarm.

“She’s just saying hi.” Brooke came to sit next to me and smiled as Holly got close enough to put her chin on my leg. Her golden-brown eyes met mine, and I felt warmth coming from the dog. I could tell that she liked me.

Instead of panicking, I rubbed her head a few times.

My heart was still galloping, but there was a dog touching me, and I wasn’t freaking out.

I’d count this as a win and a huge step in my journey to get back to Logan.

Chapter 32

-Logan-

“You good to get those crab legs finished?” I asked Vincent.

He looked away from the pot-laden stoves and gave me a flat stare. “Yes. I’ve also got the tiny chocolate cakes under control as well as the tray of crunchy peanut butter and grape jelly mini sandwiches that you’re sending in as a joke.”

“Right.” I nodded. “Sorry.”

Vincent shook his head at me. “You still haven’t told them, have you?”

“No.” If anyone but Shane, Rachel, Alex, and Vincent had known that I was leaving thirty minutes after the party started, it would have gotten back to my parents, and my mom, in particular, would have crushed me under enough guilt to pulverize a boulder. The extended family may have done the same, and I didn’t need more stress in my life.

“I hope you have an exit plan,” Vincent said.

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