Page 157 of Gin and Lava

“Yes! I mean, no. I mean—” I flop down on the couch, my brain frazzled. I put my head in my hands, feeling so damn tired of everything. “Yes, it wasn’t real,” I blurt out. “I wasn’t in love with him, like you said. You were right. Not that it was real in the first place. It was all fake and bullshit to make you jealous, but it’s over now. So the answer to your damn question is yes.”

Sam sits next to me cautiously, careful to give me space. “What do you meanto make me jealous? What was fake and bullshit?”

My stomach leaps into my throat. Did I just say that out loud?

Oh, double fuck!

“Are you telling me,” Sam’s eyes catch mine as he puts the pieces together, “that you and Mason aren’t together—that you were never—?”

“He’s not my fiancé,” I admit. “He was never my fiancé. He’s not even my boyfriend. He’s—”

“But—?” Sam’s eyebrows furrow with confusion. “I saw you two together.” He motions to the shed side of the house. “You two were—”

“Hooking up,” I finish for him. “Yes, well, we were definitely doing that. Because you’re right, I obviously needed to lash out, and mess around, and do something I would never normally do to get over you!”

I stand up and grab one of his suitcases, lugging it out toward my truck.

“Wait—” Sam runs after me, but I don’t stop.

Instead, I stomp out to my truck and toss open the tailgate. All the collected water from the monsoon rushes out, causing Sam to jump out of the way of the deluge.

“I knew that guy wasn’t right for you,” Sam says, his second suitcase in hand. “I knew he was—”

“Can you please not drag Mason through the mud!” I snap, wrenching Sam’s suitcase out of his hand and tossing both of them in the truck bed. “He was just a pawn in all of this, and he’s actually a really nice guy.”

“A nice guy who said lots of dirty things about you two—”

“Fake boyfriend!” I snap. “Fake. Mason says all sorts of dirty shit, and most of it isn’t real.”

“Except, some of it’s real,” Sam counters. “I saw you two behind the shed. That wasn’t—”

“Sweet, romantic, love making?” I ask, dropping my hands to my hips and glaring at him.

Only itwassweet, romantic, love making last night.

Last night when I was wearing that damn fake engagement ring, and feeling something so damn big and overwhelming, that I don’t want to admit how perfect it was.

“Obviously, it was a mistake,” Sam says, reaching out and taking one of my hands. “The point is, I know you care about me too. And I forgive you.”

“What?” I frown as he cradles my hand like it’s a precious flower.

“For this little charade.” Sam pulls me close and wraps an arm around my waist. “You wanted to make me jealous, and by God, did you! I wanted to murder that asshole for touching what was mine.”

“He’s not an asshole.”

Sam kisses the side of my neck, pressing his hand into the back of my wet t-shirt. “I want you back too, babe. I’m so glad you came to your senses.”

I wrench my neck away from him. “What are you talking about? Came to my senses? And what do you mean youforgive me?”

The knot between Sam’s eyebrows returns. “For sleeping around. For being with him.”

“You and I weren’t together!”

“Yes, I know,” Sam nods. “But I didn’t sleep with anyone while we were taking a break. So—”

“I’m sorry …” I step out of his arms, pushing him away. “We weren’t taking a break. We werebroken up. I don’t need your forgiveness for sleeping with anyone in the last six months.”

“Right, of course,” he backpedals. “You’re right. It’s just that if you’dknownhow I felt about you then you wouldn’t have done any of those inappropriate—” he catches himself and rephrases “—any of thoseout of characterthings. I know you, Naomi. You’re your best self with me.”

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