Page 117 of Faking It

It’s over.

I fucked up for real.

She reaches over and swipes her thumb over my wet cheek. “Do you know why I’m so confident?” she asks.

“I bet you’re about to tell me,” I mumble.

“It took a lot to forgive me, but you did, which means you’ll be getting good karma.”

“Is that how it works? I don’t think so.”

Tori grunts and shakes my shoulders. “I’m trying to cheer you up, goddamnit. Let me.”

I incline my head to my phone. “Don’t you have that breaking news to publish? Now, postingthatwill cheer me up.”

She scoffs. “Logan being sued for fraud isn’t breaking news. He’s a nobody. People will only find it fascinating because of what he did to you.”

“You’re right, but I’m still looking forward to it being out there. Nothing gives me greater satisfaction than knowing he’s getting his just reward, especially now that the Bloomberg family has distanced themselves from him.”

“Yeah,that’show karma works.”

“Okay, fine,” she replies, getting up. “Let me give you that satisfaction, then.”

“Look at you, using your powers for good,” I tease as she climbs the stairs. Tori’s giggles follow her into the bedroom.

With her now gone, I need a distraction from the morose thoughts that are coming back. Curling up on the couch, I decide to read the script thatStudio Onesent over. Margaret and Logan’s retraction re-opened those doors for me. All four production houses re-sent their offers to me. With Tori’s help, I decided on the best two options since my schedule couldn’t manage them all.

I wipe the residue of tears from my face and open the document. Look at me, having a tight schedule. It gives birth to a pleased smile, which fades when that long-haired, beautiful man crosses my mind. This is all because of Gideon. He believed in me. Fought for me. Defended me, even when it put his career at risk. I mustn’t have been in my right mind to treat him like that.

With a sigh, I put the tablet down, then fall back against the throw cushions. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper to the air. My eyes latch onto the chandelier overhead. The universe has been good to me lately, but I have one more thing to ask of it. The muttered request flies through my lips as I curl onto my side and surrender to the beckoning of sleep.

***

I think I’m dreaming.

I must be.

The universe has never responded to a request so quickly.

Yes, this is a dream.

It feels good, though. Gideon’s hand brushing my hair from my face, caressing my cheek, it feels amazing.

The way he’s staring at me, that tenderness in his eyes, triggers happy bubbles in my belly. For some reason, it prompts me to stretch, and I stick my feet out, arching my back.

“There she is.”

I blink. Even his voice sounds tender. And real. I reach out to touch him. The soft cotton of his T-shirt feels very much real, too. So are the hairs on his arm.

Gideon chuckles when I sit up with a gasp, muttering, “I’m not dreaming, am I?”

“I’d like to think not,” he replies. “It would mean that I’m dreaming, too.”

“Oh, my God.” I reach out to touch him his arm again. “You’re really here.”

“In the flesh.”

“How?”

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