Page 119 of Play Fake
I nod. “Yeah. I wasn’t, earlier. But now…I’m good.”
He squeezes my waist gently. “Good.”
There’s a quiet stretch, the kind that feels full instead of empty. I shift slightly to face him, my forehead brushing his. “Thank you,” I whisper.
“You don’t have to thank me for wanting to be here,” he murmurs back.
Something inside me loosens completely. My fingers find the fabric of his T-shirt, curling there like they’ve found a home.
“Night, Beck.”
“Night, pretty girl.”
39
BECK
I’ve got ten minutes to get to Thursday’s film review when Sophie’s name lights up my screen.
I don’t even hesitate before answering. “Good morning,” I say, grinning as her face pops up on FaceTime.
She’s sitting at her desk in the little office at the foster agency, hair pulled back, a paper coffee cup beside her. The fluorescent lighting isn’t exactly glamorous, but she still looks like the best part of my day.
“Hey,” she says, a tired smile tugging at her mouth. “You headed to film?”
“Yep,” I say, shifting my backpack higher on my shoulder. “Glad you called, I can get my daily Prescott fix on the way.”
That earns me a real smile, the kind that hits me somewhere deep. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Maybe. But you love it.”
She rolls her eyes, but her laugh is soft. Then the smile slips a little. “It’s been kind of a hard morning,” she admits quietly. “A sibling group came in, three kids, all under six. Scared, tired…it’s just one of those days.”
I slow my steps without even meaning to. “Damn,” I say, my voice softening. “That’s heavy. You holding up okay?”
She nods slowly. “Yeah. I just wish there was more I could do, you know? I love working here, but sometimes I feel like all I can offer is a smile and kind words.”
The ache in her voice hits me square in the chest. I’ve seen her with people, how warm she gets, how much shecares. I can imagine her sitting with those kids, making them feel seen.
She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and adds, almost shyly, “I think…someday, I want to be a foster mom. Maybe even adopt. I know that’s a long way off, but I want to give kids that kind of home. One that’s safe and loving, even if it’s only temporary.”
I stop completely, right in the middle of the sidewalk. For a second, everything else fades out. She says it like it’s just a thought, but it hits me like a true possibility for the future. One I can see with startling clarity.
I clear my throat. “They’d be lucky as hell to have you.”
Her cheeks flush a little, and she laughs softly. “Thanks, Beck.”
Before I can say more, a familiar voice cuts through my earbuds.
“Well, well, well,” Logan drawls from the film room doorway as I approach. “Would you look at this—the lovebug’s struck our linebacker. He’s out here stopping in the middle of the quad to stare into his phone like a lovesick fool.”
I flip him off good-naturedly, which just makes him laugh harder.
On my screen, Sophie giggles. “Hi, Logan.”
“She says hi,” I relay to Logan.
“Hey, Sophie,” Logan says, leaning into the camera from behind me. “Save him from himself, yeah?”
