Page 4 of Borrow My Heart

“It’s not about him. I’m savingusfrom having to sit through more of this secondhand embarrassment.” Seriously, the humiliation his friend was threatening to put him through had sent tension through my whole body.

“What if this girl, whoever she is, isn’t a catfish?”

I turned the crop top so that the tag was in the back and put my arms in the sleeves. “She is. And if I don’t do this, she’ll come up with some excuse for today and keep dragging him along for weeks and weeks.”

“What if she’s just late and shows up while you’re out there pretending to be her?”

“That will be awkward.” I pulled the shirt over my head, tugging it down over my swimsuit top. “Did he say her name? What’s my name supposed to be?”

“I heard no name.”

I used the mirror on the wall to apply a coat of mascara. I took the ponytail holder out of my hair, flipped my head upside down, ran my fingers through my long brown locks, then flipped backup.

The bell on the door let out a ding. “Let’s hope that’s her,” Kamala said. “Or they got impatient and left.”

I shrugged. Those would also be perfectly fine endings to this scenario. I really didn’t care about him. I didn’t know him. I cared about this stupid feeling that had taken over my body, reminding me that even though my mother was four hundred miles away, she still seemed to have a hold on my emotions.Iwas in charge of my feelings. Not the memory of things she had done and definitely not her.

“This is a really terrible idea,” Kamala said.

“Can you think of a better one?” I asked.

“Yes! Just sit there and let it play out on its own.”

“That wasn’t working at all,” I said. “I’ve already decided.” And once I made a decision, I always followed through with it.

Kamala knew this as well and gave a long-suffering sigh, resigned. “You’re such a control freak.”

“That’s why you love me.” I reached into her pocket, where I knew she kept a tube of sparkly pink lip gloss. I applied a coat to my lips, then blew her a kiss as I headed for the back door. “You better get out there for the show.”

Rule:Never date a guy who thinks everything is a sign. Finding a note that says It’s Tuesday! is only a miracle on a Tuesday.

I could still back out. All I had to do was walk across the room, order a coffee, and ignore the guys, who had gone completely silent in the booth to my right. I had exited the café out the back, avoided a muddy puddle in the west alley, and come in through the front, where I paused, one hand behind me still gripping the door. The little bell around the handle had gone silent, too, after its initial cheery jingle. Kamala gave me an eyebrow raise from where she was helping a middle-aged man at the counter as if she thought I was chickening out. I wasn’t. I’d had the whole walk to turn around. But the walk had only pumped more blood through my veins, and I was more determined now than I’d been ten minutesago.

I unleashed my full smile, pretended to search the room, before letting my gaze find the table. Would his catfish know which one of these two guys was Asher? My brain quickly decided that she would. He had probably been an open book, like Dale hadsaid he was, sharing selfies and his social media. I locked eyes with him and let my smile soften as if recognition was taking over my expression.

His eyes darted to Kamala, or maybe the empty nook where I’d been sitting before, or maybe to nothing in particular. Then his eyes shot to Dale before he stood in one quick, jerky motion. “Gemma?” he all but whispered.

Gemma? Her name was Gemma? And he thought she was real without actual proof? I was allowed to be skeptical of odd names, I had one, after all.

I took one step in his direction and he somehow shimmied out of the corner seat of the booth and was in front of me in record time. “Hi,” I said.

Instead of answering he wrapped me in a hug. “I told you I’d hug you when I saw you,” he said against my temple.

He smelled really good, like soap and cinnamon. And he felt even better, his arms putting the perfect amount of pressure against my back, his shoulder the perfect height for my cheek. I hadn’t expected him to be such a good hugger. He looked too lanky to feel so significant against me. For the first time since I’d been forced into action, the tightness in my chest loosened. I let out an involuntary sigh, then lowered my brow.What kind of reaction was that?My shoulders went tense and he released me.

His confidence was back as he faced Dale.

“This is Gemma.” He put his hand on my lower back and it felt warm and sure. “Gemma, this is Dale.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said.

Dale’s mouth was open in shock, his phone pointing at the table, recording the Formica top. So much for his perfect video. I considered that my first victory.

“Scoot,” Asher said to Dale.

Dale slid down the bench. “You’re late,” he said, his shocked look turning into a skeptical one.

“Dale, don’t,” Asher said. He pointed to the counter behind him. “I’ll get you your drink.”

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