Page 95 of The Pretender

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?”

I shrug. “They were all different, but the one consistent trick used was bandage wraps to strap down their tits.”

Maverick releases this loud and hearty belly laugh. “Dude, I’m impressed. I’ve never known anyone to get one over on you, much less me.”

It was impressive. I’ve always been able to acknowledge that much but what gnawed at me was the fact Itrulybelieved she was Tweener, my friend and someone I desperately missed once he was gone.

“So why are you over here and not at home?”

I stare out at the parking lot. “Can’t I just have a beer with my friend?” I’m not in the mood to tell him about Vee saying she loved me.

Maverick scoffs. “Sure, but I’ve never known you to turn down stalking your neighbor for having a beer with me.” Maverick doesn’t drink, but he likes to sit on his balcony and pour out his beers. It’s weird. I can’t explain it, other than to say it was one of those quirks I was talking about.

I exhale a deep breath. “I’m leaving. What am I supposed to do?”

Maverick picks at the label of his beer. “What do you want to do?”

Any other time I would talk to Tweener, or T as I called her, about my conundrum, but not tonight. Tonight is different.

“Our video has over two million views in the past twelve hours,” I state. “The producers already called me. We won.”

“I’m not seeing how that’s a bad thing.”

“It’s not. It’s just—” It doesn’t feel like a win. A win should have been celebrated with Vee and shots of moonshine. Instead, she’s not speaking to me.

“I’m proud of you, dude,” Maverick says. “This is something you’ve wanted for a long time. I’m just wondering why you don’t seem more excited. Perhaps it has something to do with a former cameraman.”

I’ll never admit that I love her to Maverick. I’ll never admit that I’m contemplating staying and finishing my degree just to see where things take us, since she’s no longer pretending to be my cameraman or girlfriend.

“Maybe I’m just in shock” is all I say.

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