Page 135 of Fake As Puck
Tomorrow is the wedding. Tomorrow I’m going to confess my feelings to West in front of a fountain while wearing a dress that Tessa swears will make him “forget his own name.”
Tomorrow everything changes.
Or everything stays exactly the same, and I make a fool of myself in front of his entire family.
Both possibilities are equally terrifying.
I check my phone: 12:17 AM.
Tessa’s been asleep for an hour, and I’ve been lying here staring at the ceiling, running through every possible scenario of how tomorrow could go wrong.
What if he doesn’t feel the same way? What if his mom was wrong about him loving me since high school? What if hereally does just want to keep this casual and I’m about to ruin everything?
What if I freeze up and can’t say the words?
What if I say the words and he looks at me like I’ve lost my mind?
What if—
I throw off the covers and grab my room key.
I need to see him. Not tomorrow, when there’s pressure and an audience and a carefully planned romantic gesture. Tonight, when it’s just us and I can look at his face and maybe figure out what he’s actually thinking.
The hallway is dimly lit and empty, my bare feet silent on the carpet as I make my way to room 337.
I stand outside his door for a full minute, trying to work up the courage to knock.
This is insane. It’s after midnight. He’s probably asleep. I’m going to wake him up looking like a crazy person in my pajamas and—
I knock before I can talk myself out of it.
Soft footsteps, then the door opens to reveal West, looking rumpled and sleepy and completely beautiful.
And shirtless.
“Liv?” He blinks at me like he’s not sure I’m real. “What are you doing here?”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“So you decided to wander the halls?”
“So I decided to come see you.”
“At midnight.”
“Is that okay?”
He steps aside to let me in. “It’s more than okay.”
His room is identical to Tessa’s but somehow feels completely different. Maybe because his clothes are draped over the chair, or because there’s a glass of water on the nightstand that he was clearly drinking from when I knocked.
Maybe because it smells like him.
“Can’t sleep either?” I ask, noticing the unmade bed and the fact that he answered the door pretty quickly.
“Not really. Too much on my mind.”
“The wedding?”
