Page 84 of Fake As Puck
I smile. She got me.
“You’re like a middle-aged mom that goes to Target for one thing and then comes out with an entire cart of things.”
I chuckle. “Everything in there is tempting.”
A server appears next to us with a tray of glasses.
“Champagne?” the server asks.
“Sure,” I say, even though the last thing I need is more alcohol when I’m already having trouble thinking straight.
I take two glasses and hand one to Liv, and we step apart enough that I can breathe properly again.
“To Jamie and Sarah,” I say, raising my glass.
“To Jamie and Sarah,” she agrees.
We drink, and I try not to notice the way her lips look against the rim of the glass.
“Want to get some air?” I ask, because the terrace suddenly feels too small and too warm.
“Sure.”
We make our excuses to the people at our table and walk down toward the dunes that separate the venue from the beach. The music fades behind us, replaced by the sound of waves and wind.
“It’s beautiful here,” Liv says, looking out at the water.
“Yeah. It is.”
The wind picks up, and I watch it catch her hair, blowing it across her face. She reaches up to push it back, and the gesture is so unconsciously graceful that I have to look away.
“Your friend seems happy,” she says.
“Jamie? Yeah. He does.”
“It’s nice. Seeing people that sure about each other.”
“You said that earlier. About being sure.”
“Did I?”
“During the ceremony. You asked what I meant about them being sure.”
“Right. I remember.”
“What did you think I meant?”
She’s quiet for a moment, considering the question.
“I think you meant it must be nice to know without a doubt that you want to spend your life with someone. To not have to wonder or worry or second-guess. To just... know.”
“Yeah. That’s exactly what I meant.”
“Have you ever felt that way? About someone?”
The question catches me off guard, and for a moment I consider lying. Giving her some vague answer about how I’m still figuring it out or how I haven’t met the right person yet.
Instead, I find myself saying, “I’m starting to.”
