Page 92 of Subscriber Wars

He doesn’t answer me, only sits there chewing the inside of his cheek.

“Yell at me or something,” I tell him. “I’ve never known you to be so quiet. Are you scarred for life?”

Finally, he laughs a deep rumbling sound that sends shivers across my skin. “What am I supposed to do with you, huh?”

I shrug. “Text me occasionally when you’re all famous.”

His smile drops, and he puts the car in gear, pulling away from the curb. I try not to look like my heart is fracturing into a million little pieces on the backroad to our house, when he finally clears his throat and promises, “Always.”

We don’t speak after that. I guess there’s nothing really to say. We had a deal to win this competition, and although we don’t know that we’ve actually won yet, I think we can agree that we have a good shot at it. Sebastian will see the west coast, and I will stay here, save my money, and finish school. Then, I can decide what to do after that.

We pull up to our complex, and Sebastian jumps out, before I can say anything else like goodbye or thanks for the best year of my life sans the two months you weren’t speaking to me.

“Okay,” I say to myself, as he hustles around the front of the car. “Have a great day. Thanks for saving my ass.”

My door is suddenly wrenched open. “What did you say?”

My eyes meet his, and I suddenly have the urge to kiss him. I open my mouth. “I love you.”

Yeah, that wasn’t supposed to happen.

She played her ace, and wouldn’t you know, her crazy prank won us the competition.

There’s just one thing that keeps me from celebrating.

She said she loved me and then slapped her hand over her mouth and ran into her house without another word, which is where she stayed the rest of the evening.

“So, Vee was Tweener all along?”

I’m two beers down after a shot of moonshine. My body is buzzing, and today’s trauma seems a little more catastrophic than it did earlier.

“Yep.” I let the ‘p’ pop as I stare out into the night. Maverick’s apartment doesn’t have that great of a view, but tonight, it’s better than mine and my incessant staring out the window.

Maverick chuckles and shakes his head. “And I thought Ainsley was crazy.” He pours a little of his beer out and kicks my foot. “How long was she your cameraman?”

I mumble out the answer. “Two months.”

“Two months! Dude, and you never picked up that she was a girl?”

I shoot him a glare. “I mean, sure,” I start, defending my actions. “She did some things that I questioned, but, you know, everyone has their quirks.” I arch a brow. “Look at you and Ainsley.”

If quirks were a sport, they would come in first every time.

“I’m just saying, any time I would have doubts, she would slam down a shot of moonshine and burp and grab at her junk. It wasn’t as obvious as you think it would be.”

Maverick still doesn’t look convinced. “What about her tits?”

“What about them? Did you notice them at the poker game I brought her to?”

Maverick pauses, more than likely thinking about that night I brought her to the game. Maverick wasn’t impressed, but, like me, he had no idea we were both being played. “Wonder how she hid them?”

I sigh. “That night, right after she revealed herself, I had a few too many drinks and googled all the movies I could find where girls pretended to be guys.”

“You watched them? All of them?”

“Come on.” I huff. “Don’t look so disgusted. I was doing exactly what you were doing. I was asking myself how I didn’t know. I pride myself in noticing beautiful women and I had one sleeping over and spending nine hours a day filming with me. And I fucking missed it. I had to see how she managed to get one over on me.”

“And did the movies tell you?”

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