Page 43 of Fake As Puck
The song ends, and Liv bounces over to me, breathless and glowing.
“That was fun,” she says, grabbing my arm for balance.
“You’re a little drunk.”
“I’m a little happy.”
“Good drunk or bad drunk?”
“Good drunk. The best drunk. The kind of drunk where everything is funny, and everyone is beautiful and the world makes sense.”
“How many drinks have you had?”
“Not that many. Maybe three? Four? I’m not drunk drunk. I’m just... happy drunk.”
She’s swaying slightly, and her cheeks are pink, and she’s looking at me like I’m something wonderful.
I’m completely screwed.
Because somewhere between this morning and right now, between watching her fit seamlessly into my life and seeing her laugh with my friends and holding her hand during the ceremony, I’ve stopped pretending.
This isn’t fake anymore. At least not for me.
“Dance with me again?” she asks, tugging on my hand.
“Sure,” I say, and follow her back onto the dance floor.
The DJ puts on something slow and romantic, and I pull her close, closer than I need to for show.
“Thank you,” I say into her hair.
“For what?”
“For being here. For being perfect. For making this look real.”
“It doesn’t feel fake,” she says quietly.
“No,” I agree. “It doesn’t.”
We sway together in the middle of the community center dance floor, surrounded by string lights and the quiet conversations of people who are happy and in love, and I think about how Reed’s vows talked about finding someone who feels like home.
Liv feels like home.
And that’s a very big problem.
Because in thirty-six hours, she’ll be on a plane back to LA, and I’ll be alone again, pretending I never figured out what I’ve been looking for all this time.
I’ve been waiting for her.
10
The ride home is a blur of streetlights and laughter, West’s hand on my knee as he navigates Seattle streets.
I’m tipsy. Not drunk drunk, but that perfect level of buzzed where everything feels possible and nothing feels scary.
“That was so fun,” I say for probably the tenth time since we left the reception.
“You said that already.”
