Page 98 of Faker
Lyle waves good night before walking back inside.
I turn to Jamie. “You should go.”
He shakes his head. “No way I’m leaving you alone with this guy. He’s clearly unstable.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Tate stiffen.
I roll my eyes, unable to hide my frustration. “Jamie. Listen. Iappreciate your concern, but I can handle myself. Tate isn’t anything to worry about.”
An exasperated sigh leaves his mouth. “If you say so.”
He pats my shoulder, then pauses to look at me for a few seconds. I’m paralyzed, wondering if he’s going to try for a friendly cheek kiss just to spite Tate. If Tate nearly lost it at the sight of us holding hands, he will coldcock Jamie if he kisses me. Instead he climbs into his car and drives away. A loud hiss of breath signals my relief. I clench my jaw as I watch his car round the block.
I start to open the door to my car. “Good night.”
“Wait.” Tate’s tone is gentle now, and so is his touch when he reaches for my arm.
“Tate, I can’t.”
“Will you please come inside and talk to me? I’ll explain everything. I’ll do whatever it takes to make it clear how I feel about you.”
I silently weigh my options. All I want to do right now is speed home and rage-cry into my pillow until I pass out. But I also want closure. If whatever is between us ends tonight, I want to know I did it the right way. I want to know that we ended things calmly and maturely, not with an argument in the street.
“Okay.”
His lips remain a neutral line, but his eyes seem hopeful. We both turn to his still-running car. He pulls into his driveway, and I follow him inside.
twenty-six
Tate turns to me after shutting the front door.
“Before you say anything, let me say this. There is absolutely nothing going on between me and Camille. I haven’t seen or spoken to her in years. When I walked up behind her, I honestly thought it was you. I thought I was kissing you.”
I let out a laugh that sounds more like a scoff. “I saw the way you looked at her, Tate. You touched her arm; you leaned into her.”
His face twists at my words, like he’s swallowing bitter medicine. “I swear to you, from where I was standing, I couldn’t see her face clearly. I thought it wasyou. As soon as I realized it was her, I backed away and ran after you.”
He takes a breath. Seeing his chest heave up and down reminds me to inhale.
“Look, I’m a piece of shit for kissing Camille. There’s no excuse for what I did, no matter how clueless I was. If the tables were turned, if I had seen you kiss some guy...” he trails off. His jaw tightens and his cheeks flush as if they’re on fire. “I would have raged. You can hate me forever for that. I deserve it. But I needyou to know that I’m not with anyone else but you. Ever since you and I started up, no other woman has even crossed my mind. I know there’s no way to prove that to you, especially after what you saw tonight, but it’s the truth. I promise you that, Emmie.”
Despite the pain coursing through me, I believe him. Maybe it’s his own pain displayed on his face or the way his gray-blue eyes glisten, as if they’re pleading. He blinks before any tears can fall. And in that moment, I know he’s not lying.
“Okay. If you say it’s the truth, then I believe you.”
He clears his throat. “I was wrong for not coming clean about Camille from the get-go. And I was wrong to let an ex—a past relationship—affect how I treated you when we first met.”
Hearing him say the words is a relief, but doubt still nags at me.
“Do you have some sort of fetish for Asian women?”
It sounds ridiculous spoken out loud, but I need to know. I don’t want to be anyone’s weird fixation, not even Tate’s.
His eyebrows knit. “What? Of course not.”
“You can see how it would be hard for me to believe you.”
He shuts his eyes for a long second before focusing on me once again. “I understand. But I swear to you, it’s just a coincidence. I’ve dated women from different backgrounds. I’ll dig up old photos to prove it to you.”
