Page 73 of The Fake Script

The Sharks and the Raptors are the two New York hockey teams—and obviously rivals. While our entire street is a Raptors street, Beth somehow ended up dating a Shark.

“What a fool,” James Adler says, popping up out of nowhere with Aaron Miles beside him. “If I had a woman like you, Elizabeth, I’d worship her every single day.”

Beth crosses her arms and rolls her eyes. “It’s Beth.”

The rest of us burst into chuckles.

“Come on, man,” Aaron says, slapping James's shoulder. “Let’s get a drink.”

James just grins, unfazed by the cold reception his flirting elicited from Beth. Granted, he’s probably used to it. I don’t see James that often, but every time he and Beth are in the same room, it’s always fun. He’s a huge flirt, and even if Beth pretends to be immune to his charm, I can tell that’s not entirely true. Her cheeks flush pink when he flirts with her, and her body language betrays her.

Aaron winks at Mari before dragging James to the bar area. I, on the other hand, am ready for some coffee.

Alice, Deacon, and Lola are lingering near the buffet, so I chat with them while enjoying a cup of the delicious coffee Mari and Beth made. Yes, I’d recognize their beans anywhere. And I’m so thankful to whoever invented a fountain that can keep drinks warm.

Just when I’m wondering where Auston is, his voice booms into a microphone.

“Okay, guys. Time to play some games,” he says, and everyone cheers.

Games? He really has thought of everything.

“First up, we have a bookish quiz. We’ll divide ourselves into two teams, and Julio, our DJ, will ask the questions.”

Thanks to Maxime, Aaron, Mari andLola being readers, we manage to create two teams with an equal number of bookish nerds.

“Are you ready?” Julio asks, holding his notebook.

“Yes!” Everyone yells, some louder than others. I might be one of those people.

“All right,” he says. “Which author is commonly associated with being the modern originator of the Romance genre?”

I raise my hand before he even finishes the question. “Jane Austen,” I yell.

“Wow,” Auston breathes out. “That was fast.”

I shoot him a smirk. “Well, my nameisEmma—you know, like the famous Jane Austen novel—and I do have a cat named Mr. Darcy. Even if Dark Romance is more my jam, Jane will always have my heart.”

He laughs, drawing a hand over his stubble, and I force myself to look away.

“Correct,” Julio says, and everyone claps. Well, my teammates do. The others are too busy giving us side-eyes.

“We let you win that one,” Alice says, crossing her arms. “You know, since you’re the birthday girl.”

I scoff. “Please! I can see the fire in your eyes, sweetie,” I say, blowing her a kiss, and her cheeks redden. She turns to Deacon, then to Maxime, but they both just shrug.

“Let’s keep going,” Mari calls before giving me a high-five.

“Okay,” Julio says. “Next question. Who was the first writer to be inducted into the Romance Writers Hall of Fame?”

I know this one too, but this time, Alice is faster. “Nora Roberts!” she exclaims, then looks at us with a haughty smirk.

I roll my eyes, then turn to Mari and Auston, who are standing next to me. “Come on, guys. We can’t let them win.”

Auston takes my hand, and it instantly goes numb. “We won’t,” he says, his voice more determined than ever. Suddenly, I don’t even care about the game anymore. How can I think straight when Auston’s hand is wrapped around mine? I close my eyes, enjoying how his skin feels against mine. Firm but soft. Masculine but not rugged. I both love and hate how normal, but also how foreign and exciting it feels.

The quiz continues, but I’m barely listening anymore. Most of the questions are easy, and in the end, I’m proud of my team—even if we did lose 5-4.

For the next game, we play musical chairs but with books. Basically, Julio calls for a specific type of book, and we have to rush back to our chair with the book in hand. The last one back is out of the game.

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