Page 170 of The Faking Game

“No,” he says. “Stand up for yourself more, and you’ll see that people won’t mind nearly as much as you think they will.”

I dig my teeth into my lower lip. “Do you remember a Christmas party a few years back? When I asked…”

West’s eyebrows pull low. “By the fireplace?”

“Yes. I wasn’t sure if you remembered.”

His thumb sweeps back and forth over my skin. “I remember.”

“Well, I liked you before then. I’d been drinking that night, and I figured…” I shrug a little. Embarrassment makes my cheeks tinge. “Anyway. You weren’t interested.”

“Nora,” he mutters. His eyes are narrowed.

But I have to keep going, or I won’t share any of this. And now that I’ve started talking about the past, I want it all out. “Half a year later, you were at a party my father threw at the Lake Como house. All of you were. I was upstairs, on the balcony facing the lake… taking a breather. And you were downstairs. Talking to Alex.”

West’s jaw tightens. “Go on.”

“I overheard your conversation,” I say. “He said I looked beautiful that night. Asked if you knew if I was single.”

“I remember.” His eyebrows are drawn low. “What did I say in response?”

I wet my lips. “If you remember, why should I say it?”

“Tell me,” he says. “And tell me how angry you’ve been at me for it.”

“You said that I was pretty enough, but boring. That I was… the last person you’d date.”

West’s eyes close. He’s still as a statue, only inches from me. “Yes. I said all of that.”

“I hated you for it,” I whisper. It was the final nail in the coffin of my stupid crush. And now I want to hurt him with it, too, because he’s getting married, and he didn’t tell me. Even if it’s just a business transaction. Even if he and I can never be, because of my brother and their stupid pact.

West’s eyes open, and this time they’re blazing. “Good. I never meant for you to hear those words.”

“So we’ve both changed our minds about each other, haven’t we? I’m not the least bit bland.”

“I didn’t mean a word of it.”

I roll my eyes. “Right. And why would you have said that?—”

“Because I wanted him to stay away from you.”

My heart is in my throat. “Why? You didn’t talk to me. Barely looked at me.”

“You’re my best friend’s younger sister,” he says. There’s agony in that tone. “You were then. You still are. There was no looking. There was no talking. You were forbidden. Alex knew that, but he was—still is—reckless.” West’s jaw works. “He wasn’t good enough for you.”

“You were jealous,” I breathe. “Even then.”

“Yes. I was.”

The confession makes my stomach tighten. “Oh.”

“You were never meant to overhear it. It was a lie.” His right hand finds the curve of my waist beneath the cover, settles where he usually keeps it. “Don’t tell me you believed it, trouble.”

“I did,” I admit.

He tsks. “Not you. Confident, bubbly, sparkling. Wide smiles to everyone, long legs, shiny hair. It hurt to look at you.” His eyes track the movement of his hand sliding down my neck, settling over my collarbone. “Did you really think I didn’t like you?”

“I used to. But not anymore.”

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