Page 44 of Fake As Puck
I giggle. “Because it’s true. Your friends are great. Reed and Chelsea are perfect together. The whole thing was just perfect.”
We pull into his driveway, and I immediately kick off my heels the second we’re through the front door.
“Oh my god,” I groan, wiggling my toes. “Freedom.”
“Better?”
“So much better. Why do we torture ourselves with shoes like that?”
“Because they make your legs look incredible.”
The words hang in the air between us, and I can see him realizing what he just said.
“I mean—” he starts.
“Thank you,” I say, cutting him off. “That’s very sweet of you to say.”
He looks like his mind is racing a million miles per second.
“West.”
“Yeah?”
“Stop being charming. It’s dangerous.”
“Dangerous how?”
“Just dangerous.”
I pad into the living room in my bare feet, suddenly restless and energetic despite the late hour. The house is quiet and dark, but I’m still buzzing from the wedding, from the dancing, from the way West looked at me all night.
“I need music,” I announce, finding his speaker system.
“Liv, it’s almost midnight.”
“So? We’re celebrating.”
“Celebrating what?”
“A successful fake girlfriend debut.”
I connect my phone to his speakers and scroll through my playlists until I find something perfect. An upbeat song but not too loud, danceable but not overwhelming.
“What are you doing?” West asks as I start swaying to the music.
“Dancing. Join me.”
“I don’t think—”
“Come on. One song. We just survived our first public appearance as a couple. That deserves a celebration dance.”
“A celebration dance?”
“Yes. It’s a thing.”
“It’s not a thing.”
I hold out my hand and plead with my eyes. After a moment’s hesitation, he takes it.
