Page 65 of The Holiday Fakers
Heat temporarily abandons my panties, rushing to fill my cheeks. How does it look that I haven’t shown my so-called boyfriend such an important part of myself?
“Piper likes to keep that one private,” he says to Mom, trying to cover for me.
“Then why did you ask her if she had an account?” she asks.
“I meant to askwhichaccount she wanted me to use,” he replies, shrugging casually.
“Oh. Well, I think you should publicize her drawings, especially considering how much she’s doing to help your career, honey.”
“Mom,” I say quickly. “It’s more than enough for me to deal with going public with my relationship. I’m not yet ready to have my face associated with what I do in my spare time.”
“It’s not exactly an OnlyFans account for feet!”
“Mom!” I cry as Mia snorts with laughter.
“It’s true! You’re so talented, baby. You’re wa—” She breaks off before finishing her sentence, the end of which I know iswasted at your job. “More people should see what you do,” she says firmly.
Fortunately, a smiling girl who looks about high school age, comes over with a pad and pen.
“Have you decided what you all want?” she asks. “Any questions, just ask!”
Love at First Sip is famous for drinks named after romantic heroes and poets, and as it’s run by Mom’s best friend, I always make sure I come here whenever I’m back in Hideaway.
“Have whatever you want, guys,” Marv says. “It’s on me.”
Brody leans a little closer to me. “What do you like here?” he murmurs.
You? With extra sprinkles?His voice is like liquid velvet, melting my insides.
“Um … I always have the Lord Byron,” I reply, sounding like I’ve just run up a flight of stairs. “It’s a cinnamon latte.”
“The Lord Byron?” he says in a British accent. “Hmm …”
Our faces are nearly touching, but we’re not looking at each other. Instead, our eyes are glued to the sight of our hands entwined on the table.
Brody takes a measured breath, then still in a British accent, starts recitingpoetryto me.
“She walks in beauty, like the night, of cloudless climes and starry skies. And all that’s best of dark and bright, meet in her aspect and her eyes …”
Oh, my dear Lord… I make a strangled noise as my throat just about stops me from yelling, “Do me already!”
Mom suddenly stops her monologue about what a dirty chai is in Hideaway. “You okay, honey? You got allergies?”
I take a breath but promptly choke on my own saliva and start coughing.
Brody rubs my back. “Can I get a glass of water?” he asks the barista.
“I’m fine!” I manage, mortified.
As I get a hold of myself, I catch Mia’s eye. She looks at our hands, still clasped together, then winks.
The barista, meanwhile, has dashed to the counter and returns with a jug of water and a tower of glasses.
“Thank you, sweetie,” Mom says, taking the glasses from her and distributing them.
My phone again pings with a notification at the same time that Marv’s and Cara’s phones go off.
I jerk my hand away from Brody’s, grab my phone from my coat pocket, and turn it on silent.
