Page 116 of Play Fake
“What happened?” she asks, stepping forward.
I take a deep breath and tell her. Not everything—I don’t want to relive it word for word—but enough. Her expression goes from concern to fury in seconds.
“Hewhat?” Ava snaps. “Where is he? I swear to God?—”
Logan reappears just then, sliding through the crowd like he’s on a mission. “He’s gone,” he says. “I made sure the guys at the door won’t let him back in.”
Ava crosses her arms, fire in her eyes. “Good. Because if he hadn’t left, I’d be the one dragging him out by the scruff of his neck.”
Logan smirks. “Honestly? I’d pay to see that.”
Ava shoots him a look, half serious, half dangerous. “Don’t tempt me.”
The tension in my chest loosens just a little. Between Beck’s unwavering presence at my side, Logan’s backup, and Ava’s unfiltered loyalty, I feel something like safety settle back in.
Beck’s thumb brushes the back of my hand again, subtle but grounding. “You want to stay?” he asks softly.
For the first time in the last fifteen minutes, I actually breathe. “Yeah,” I say quietly. “I do.”
I stick close to Beck as we weave through the crowd toward the living room. He doesn’t hover or crowd me; he’s just there. His hand brushes the small of my back when the hallway gets tight. His fingers find mine when we pause to talk to someone. Subtle. Exactly what I need.
Ava, of course, is acting like she’s on a mission to singlehandedly fix my mood. She grabs my hand and drags me toward the makeshift “dance floor” in the center of the living room, shooting Beck a look over her shoulder. “Five minutes,” she mouths, already bopping to the beat.
“I don’t dance,” I tell her, laughing weakly.
“Liar,” she says. “You dance every time we pregame.”
“That’s different!”
“Then pretend this is a pregame.” She gives my hand a tug. “Come on, Prescott. You deserve at least one good song.”
I hesitate, glancing back at Beck. He’s leaning against the wall near Logan, water in hand, watching me with that quiet, attentive expression he gets sometimes—like I’m the only thing in the room worth paying attention to. When our eyes meet, the corner of his mouth lifts, soft and encouraging.
Something inside me loosens.
So, I let Ava pull me in.
The music shifts to a remix I know, something upbeat and familiar. Ava starts dancing like she owns the place, Coleson circling in to join her a few beats later. And slowly—almost without realizing—I start moving with the rhythm too. Myshoulders relax. The adrenaline that had been coiled tight in my chest starts to ebb, replaced by a fizzy kind of lightness.
Ava leans in, yelling over the music, “There’s the smile I know!”
She’s right. Iamsmiling. For real this time.
When the song ends, I turn toward the edge of the room and find Beck still watching me, a grin tugging at his lips. He doesn’t move right away, but Logan elbows him in the ribs, muttering something I can’t hear, and Beck finally pushes off the wall and walks over.
“Hey,” he says, leaning down so I can hear him over the music.
“Hey,” I say back, cheeks flushed—not from nerves this time, but from dancing.
His hand slides easily into mine. “You look like you’re having fun.”
“I am,” I admit, a little breathless.
“Good,” he says, squeezing my hand. “You deserve to.”
Something warm floods my chest at the way he says it. Simple. Certain.
A new song starts up, slower than the one before, and Beck raises an eyebrow like he’s giving me the choice. I nod, and he pulls me in—not too close, just enough that I can rest my hands lightly against his chest as we sway.
