Page 71 of Fake As Puck
“I didn’t say stop.”
“No?” she questions.
“No,” I say confidently.
She smiles and continues the small, maddening circles, and I try to focus on anything other than how good it feels.
Try and fail.
Around four, we pile onto Colton’s boat for a sunset cruise around the lake. It’s one of those perfect summer evenings, warm but not hot, clear sky, the kind of golden light that makes everything look like a movie.
Liv sits next to me on the bench seat at the back of the boat, and somewhere during the ride, she ends up pressed against my side with my arm around her shoulders.
The boat is loud with its engine noise, the music, everyone talking and laughing, so when she wants to say something to me, she has to lean in close to my ear.
“This is beautiful,” she says, her breath warm against my neck.
“Yeah, it is.”
“Thank you for bringing me.”
“Thank you for coming.”
She pulls back to look at me, and there’s something in her expression that makes my chest tight.
“I’m having a really good time,” she says.
“I want you to have a good time.”
Her fingers find the hem of my board shorts and start playing with it, rolling the fabric between her thumb and forefinger. It’s an absent gesture, the kind of thing people do when they’re comfortable with someone.
The kind of thing a girlfriend would do.
Except she’s not actually my girlfriend.
Except right now, with the sun setting over the lake and her body warm against mine and her fingers playing with my shorts like she has every right to touch me however she wants, it’s easy to forget that.
“Are we doing okay? With this whole thing?” she suddenly asks.
“What do you mean?” I whisper.
“I mean, are we believable? Do we look like a couple? Am I doing a good job?”
I look around the boat at our friends, who are all drinking and laughing and completely absorbed in their own conversations. No one’s paying attention to us, which means we’re either doing a really good job of looking natural together or everyone’s too drunk to notice if we’re not.
“Yeah,” I say. “You’re doing a good job, Liv.”
She leans into me a little more, and I catch Hurley watching us with a knowing smirk.
“What?” I mouth at him.
He just shakes his head and goes back to his conversation with Colton, but not before giving me a look that clearly says he’s buying whatever we’re selling.
When we get back to the house, the sun is starting to set, and everyone gathers on the deck to watch the fireworks show that’s supposed to start at nine.
Someone’s made margaritas, and the music has shifted to something softer, more atmospheric. The kind of music that makes everything feel romantic and significant.
Liv and I end up on the porch swing at the far end of the deck, away from the main group but still part of the party. She’s curled up next to me with her legs tucked under her, and I have my arm around her shoulders.
