Page 113 of Faking It

His expression is unreadable, but I get the feeling he doesn’t like me that much. If he’s close to Gideon, he probably knows what went down. I brace for his refusal, but he surprises me by saying, “Go ahead.”

“Tell him I’m sorry for not giving him the benefit of the doubt. I’m sorry for the things I said. I—” The slight lift of his brows makes me pause. “Okay, it might be too much to remember. Just tell him to call Ana, please.”

River nods. “I will.” He goes back into the guardhouse and closes the door even before I turn away.

Why do I get the feeling he won’t, though? The thought leaves a pang in my stomach as I make my way to the car.

Twisting the steering wheel, I press the gas to turn the car around. I hear the honking of a car horn just as the car swings, then my body jerks as we collide. Fuck me for not using my mirror. I groan, pushing the door open.

And come face to face with a concerned-looking Gideon.

“Are you okay?” he queries, running up to me, his eyes sweeping my body.

“Just a jerk, nothing else.” I look past him to survey the damage on his front end. It’s not bad, but based on the value of his car, the repairs will set me back a cute penny. “I’m sorry about that,” I say, pointing to the damage.

“It’s a simple fix.” He gestures to mine. “Yours look much worse.”

Turning to assess my car, I see a crack on the headlamp, with the bonnet crushed like a soda can. I had plans to replace it next week, anyway. “A beat-up sedan against a muscle car, what did we expect?”

It’s a joke, and the from the faint amusement in his eyes, he gets it. Well, kind of. His expression goes serious again. “What are you doing here?”

“Can we talk inside?” I ask hopefully.

Hesitation swims across his features, but he finally nods. “I’m heading back out soon, so there isn’t much time.”

“I won’t be long,” I promise quickly.

He nods again, then moves off to his car, so I follow suit. The engine sputters to life when I twist the key in the ignition. My old Betsy still has a little life left in her. Gideon toots at River as he rolls through the front gates, and the guard waves back, then turns his hooded gaze on my car. I have a feeling he might pay me an unpleasant visit if I hurt Gideon again.

My ex silently lets me inside, then after gesturing to the couch, he quietly makes his way to the kitchen. “Do you want a drink?” he calls out to me.

“Water will be fine,” I reply. All this nervousness is leaving me parched, I rub the base of my throat, clearing it with a rusty hum.

He hands me the water, and I notice he avoids touching my finger. Not a good sign of where we stand. I take a cool drink, but it does nothing to simmer the tension inside me.

“You wanted to talk, so talk,” Gideon instructs, his grip tight on the water bottle.

“There’s so much I want to say that I don’t even know where to start.” I run my fingers through my hair, the apology speech completely forgotten.

Gideon stares at me calmly, patiently. It’s only making me more nervous.

“Um…” I clear my throat. “I didn’t deserve your help with getting that retraction from Logan and Margaret, but I’m grateful. Thank you.”

No words. He keeps staring. It’s like talking to a brick wall.

“I came to apologize for what I said in that trailer. For not giving you the benefit of the doubt. You were right about Micah and Tori. I found out that they both own ANON. Tori explained her reason for everything, but I—that’s not important right now.Weare.”

Silence.

“Gideon, I’m truly sorry for not listening to you. My apology isn’t enough to fix us, but I mean it from the bottom of my heart. If I could take that moment back, I swear, I would.”

The only sign that he heard me is a flicker of emotion in his eyes.

“I’m working on opening up and trusting more. It might be too late for us, but I want you to know I’ve learned from this experience. I hope we can still be friends.”

Gideon scoffs and breaks his gaze. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he mutters. My heart slams against my chest.

“Okay, so, no to being friends.” I hear the quiver in my voice. “We can be associates, at least. After all, we live in the same town. We work in the same industry. We’ll bump into each other at some point. I’d hate for it to be awkward.”

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