Page 49 of Pucking Fake

"Right," Serena says, smirking at me. "That's totally why he did it."

I shoot her a dirty look.

"That man is in love with you, Peyton. You can tell yourself it's fake all you want, but I've seen the photos. You can't fake that kind of adoration."

"You're delusional," I mumble, popping a piece of chicken into my mouth.

"Mmhmm. Keep telling yourself that." She bats her lashes at me. "But I have photo evidence to back me up. I also have that hickey you're trying to hide."

I slap my hand over the spot in question, heat rising to my cheeks.

Serena's evil laugh ripples across the restaurant.

"I hate you," I mutter, scowling at her.

"No, you don't."

"Now you sound like Logan."

"Smart guy. You should listen to him."

I narrow my eyes on her. "Since when are you on his team?"

"Uh, since you started glowing?" She cocks her head to the side, shooting me another one of those patented looks of hers. "I'mable to admit when I'm wrong, bestie. And I was wrong about him. He may be trouble, but I think he's precisely the kind of trouble you need. The real question is when you're going to quit denying it."

I glance down at my bowl, my heart pounding. It's a damn good question, isn't it?

"Maybe I already have," I finally whisper.

Serena squeals quietly.

I shoot her a quelling look, but she just shrugs unapologetically.

"I'm not apologizing for being happy for you. You deserve it." She scans my face, her gaze probing. "So he's really the one, huh?"

"Yeah." I clear my throat, nodding. "He's really the one."

"Have you told him that yet?"

I shake my head.

"Peyton," she says softly.

"I know, I know." I exhale a sharp breath. "It's on the list."

"Well, move it up," she advises.

"You don't think it's too soon?"

"Uh, who cares what I think? Who cares whatanyonethinks? He's crazy about you. You're crazy about him. Go be happy." She makes a shooing motion at me, smiling brightly. "Seriously, be happy, Peyton. Who gives a crap what anyone else has to say? It'syourlife. You've already spent enough of it being held to standards that aren't yours. You don't owe anyone explanations. You don't have to measure up to anyone else's expectations. Allyou have to do is live on your own terms. If you're happy, that's theonlything that matters."

"When will I see you again?" Serena demands half an hour later as we linger outside of the restaurant.

"Um, I'm not sure. My boss is kind of a tyrant."

"You freaking love it," she says, laughing at me.

She's right, I do. Logan and I spent all morning going over his schedule and everything on his plate. There's so much.

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