Page 49 of Three Pucking Words
Well, it isn’t theentiretruth. I’m also holding out for the right person. And considering Honor is the last thing I think ofwhen I go to bed at night, and one of the first things in the morning when Gemma isn’t poking me awake, I’d say that she’s a solid candidate.
“So…” Honor’s eyes study my face as she gathers the information I’ve given her. “I’m not sure what this has to do with dinner tonight.”
If she laughs in my face for this proposal, I wouldn’t blame her. “I want Olive to see that I’m okay. That I’m living my life. Then she’ll stop feeling bad and things will be normal again. I won’t have to feel like we’re tiptoeing around each other.”
For a second, nothing registers on her face.
Then it clicks. “Oh.” The corners of Honor’s lips twitch. Not up. Not down. “You want a fake date. I’ve read books like this before.”
“Like a how-to for dummies?”
“Romance books,” she says, laughing. “Why would I read a how-to-fake-date guide? Trust me, I’ve never needed that.”
I’m sure she hasn’t. “It’s a ridiculous idea, but—”
“I’m in,” she answers, shrugging like it’s as easy as that. There’s no judgement in her tone or eyes as they find mine.
I have to blink once. Twice. “You are?”
She nods. “Sure. I don’t have plans tonight besides going home and watching TV after the game. Plus, I don’t know if I’m in the mood to Uber or take the train. I could use a ride with someone who isn’t going to try smelling me or killing us in a car accident.”
I gape at her. “Did you say someone triedsmellingyou?”
She nods, frowning. “Yesterday, I had a homeless man smell me as I waited for the train to arrive. And my Uber driver a few days ago almost rear-ended, like, three different taxis because he was arguing with his wife. Loudly. They were speaking in a different language, but I’m pretty sure I heard the word ‘bitch’being thrown around from both parties. I’m starting to see why my dad doesn’t like me taking public transit around here.”
I can’t say I’m a fan either after hearing that, but I’m not in a position to tell her what to do.
“I’ll give you ride,” I promise. “And I won’t even try smelling you.”
She snorts. “I appreciate that. And, anyway, I owe you for helping me. So, this will be good. I’m curious what Olive is like.”
My brows shoot up. “Why is that?”
To her credit, she doesn’t lie. “To see what it is you found interesting about her. Must be something.”
I like the color painting her cheeks. I like even more that she wants to know what I found in Olive. Is it because she wants to know if they share any similarities? To size her up? As much as I want to dive into the possibilities of those things being true, I don’t let myself. It’s a dangerous route to go down that I don’t have time for.
“Okay then,” I say, standing up. “I’ll meet up with you by the locker rooms tonight.” I pause by the door. “Thank you, by the way. For doing this. I didn’t know who else to ask.”
There is nobody else I wanted to ask,is what I want to say.
Honor waves it off. “Don’t worry about it. Although, I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to say something cliché like, ‘try not to fall in love with me’ like they do in the books I’ve read.”
I chuckle. “Does that happen?”
She nods solemnly. “Every. Single. Time.”
My cheek twitches. “May the odds ever be in our favor then,” I reply with a wink.
She calls out, “NiceHunger Gamesreference,” with a smile to her tone.
When Sebastian catches up with me in the PT room, he asks, “What’s that smile for, Hoffman? You look like you just won the lotto.”
But I shake my head and say, “No reason.”
And smile wider.
CHAPTER TWELVE
