Page 109 of Faker
“I don’t want to get into it now.”
“At least tell me who he is. Oh, is it the sexy contractor you told me about?”
“Nope.” I pause for a much-needed exhale. “It’s Tate. My coworker.”
Addy rolls her eyes. “Come on. Be serious.”
“I’m dead serious,” I say with a straight face. “And it’s not a walk of shame. We’re... more than that. Way more.”
“No way.” Her jaw drops. “I thought you couldn’t stand him.”
The sharp ring of the doorbell saves me from having to explain further.
“Someone’s at the door. Gotta go!”
“Emmie, don’t you dare.”
“I’ll Skype you again later, okay?”
I end the call, thanking the universe for such a well-timed distraction. When the doorbell ringing persists, I groan. I guess I should make myself useful and answer it so Tate doesn’t have to jump out of the shower and do it. When I open the door, I nearly bite my tongue off.
twenty-nine
Natalie’s eyebrows shoot halfway up her forehead when she sees me.
“Emmie. Hello.”
I stammer a few incriminating “um” and “uh” sounds before I finally return a proper hello.
“What a surprise.” She lets out a good-natured laugh. “I wanted to drop by and check on Tate. I was worried when I saw you two leave last night.” There’s a glint in her eyes, and she’s fighting a grin as it crawls across her mouth. “But I’m guessing he’s all right.”
I cross my arms, hoping it somehow makes me look less indecent. It’s eleven a.m. Sunday morning, and I’m clad in Tate’s shirt and boxers with messy bed hair. It couldn’t be more obvious what we’ve been up to.
I shake my head and step aside. “Sorry. Come in.” I shut the door, and she makes her way to stand near the couch.
My eyes feel a magnetic pull to the floor. There’s no reason for me to be embarrassed. We’re adults after all. Still, though. Nothing like being caught the morning after by the sister of the guy I just spent the night with.
My mouth is wide open, but I make no sound as I try to think of something proper to say. She grabs my arm in a gentle hold.
“It’s okay. I was hoping you two would make up.”
Her warm smile eases me. The shower turns off, and we flick our gazes to the top of the stairs.
“Beautiful, Emmie,” Tate calls from the bathroom. “I thought I told you to meet me in the shower.”
Natalie covers her mouth to fight back a laugh. Flames engulf my cheeks.
I attempt to drown him out by hollering, “Um, Tate. You should—”
“No, no, no. No excuses. I need you in the shower ASAP.” He thuds down the stairs. When I see his lower half covered in a towel, I breathe a sigh of relief.
He halts dead in his tracks halfway down when he spots Natalie. “What are you doing here?” He tugs his towel tighter around his waist.
Natalie bursts out laughing. A second later I join her. Tate’s flushed cheeks make him appear annoyed and embarrassed at first, but then he’s grinning.
“That’s right. Laugh it up, ladies. Natalie, what can I help you with?” He raises an impatient eyebrow to her, his arm resting on the railing.
“Just wanted to make sure you were okay after last night, but you seem just dandy,” she says. “We’re visiting Nana at the home this afternoon, remember? Your turn to bring coffee cake. It’s her favorite, so don’t forget. And don’t be late. She hates that.”
