Page 129 of Faking It With the Small-Town Bad Boy

Her eyes soften, but her bottom lip seems to quiver once before she

gets it back under control. “It’s nothing, Percy. I promise.”

“It’s something, and I want to know what, Leah. Does that upset

you?”

“No, why would it? It’s perfectly fine that you have a tour after the

wedding. Who am I to tell you not to? I can’t tell you what to do.”

“Yeah, but… but if you could, what would you say?”

She seems more hesitant than before, backing out of my hold

altogether. “I’m so happy for you, Percy. I know getting a tour has

been a big deal for you, and I hope you and the guys can really get a

good deal out of this. You could go global, who knows?”

She turns at once and storms out of the kitchen. I watch her climb

the stairs like there is a masked murderer behind her every step, and

when she’s disappeared into the hallway, I almost feel guilty.

No, it’s more than guilt.

I feel like I’ve just wounded the woman I’ve elected to protect and

support.

If she thinks I’m leaving this conversation as is, she doesn’t know me

very well. I hurry after her, finding her in the bedroom where she

seems to have made a cave at this point. She feels safe in here, so I

stay in the doorway, watching her lean forward against the dresser,

her palms on the edge while she stares blankly in a different

direction.

“Hey,” I sigh.

She stands straighter, meeting my gaze. “What’s up?”

I try not to chuckle, not wanting her to think I’m being offensive or

sarcastic. I’m not. But I think it’s so cute that she assumes this whole

plaster a grin on the face and pretend you’re fine act is going to

work on me.

I invented that fucking look.

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