Page 1 of Fake As Puck
1
“Three weddings are officially RSVP’d,” I say, yanking open the fridge door like I’m on a mission. Cold air blasts my face.
Bea’s perched on one of the kitchen stools, scrolling on her phone like she didn’t just sleep in my bed, wearing my T-shirt like it’s not a big deal.
“Bea?” I prompt, voice casual.
“Hmm?” she hums, still smiling, thumbs tapping away.
“We have three weddings this spring,” I say, pulling out the Brita pitcher like it’s going to fix my rising blood pressure. “Almost back-to-back.”
“Three?” she scoffs, eyes flicking up. “I thought there were only two?”
“Yeah, well Hendrix proposed and it’s happening fast, so I RSVP’d for us.” I pour a glass of water, watching her out of the corner of my eye as she tucks her knees up to her chest.
She’s got a look.
You know the one where the smile doesn’t reach her eyes and her whole body suddenly goes tight, like she’s about to throw a grenade in the middle of my kitchen and doesn’t want to get blood on the floor.
“Everything okay?” I ask, the glass cool in my hand, the air not so much.
She doesn’t answer right away.
Just shuts her eyes.
Oh no.
Not good.
Abort mission.
“I want to break up,” she blurts. Like ripping a Band-Aid off with all the tenderness of a back-alley dentist.
Her eyes are still squeezed shut like if she doesn’t see me, maybe I won’t exist.
“I mean,” she continues, “we were barely together. We had sex one time, and I’m not ready to meet the team, your friends, or your family. Three weddings?” Her eyebrows reach the sky.
I set my water down.
Very carefully.
Like if I move too fast, the entire moment will explode in my face.
We had sexone time?
Ma’am.
It was four times. And one of those times involved whipped cream andemotion.
But okay.
I nod. Because apparently that’s what mature adults do when they get sucker-punched at 8 a.m. in their own kitchen.
“So…” I start to say, but my brain is short-circuiting. What do I even say to that?
Don’t say anything dumb. Don’t ask her why. Don’t be petty. Be cool. Be chill. You’re a guy who takes rejection like a fucking man, damn it.
I nod again. Slow. Thoughtful. Deep inhale, like I just hit downward dog and discovered inner peace.
