Page 57 of Fakers with Benefits

He nodded again.

“Then that’s all you need to think about.” I leaned in to take a soft sip from his lips. When I pulled back, the surprise had soaked in, and his smile became so luminous it warmed me from the inside. “Are you ready to try them on?” I asked.

“Yeah.” He looked between the entrance to the dressing room and the chair I’d been sitting in as Vlado and I waited. “Do you want to see any of them?” Nick asked me. “The outfits?”

“I’d love to see whatever you want to show me.”

“Want me to scram, or can I stay for the show too?” Vlado asked from where he was sprawled in his chair, a cup of coffee in his hand, and a platter of finger sandwiches on his lap.

“You can stay.” Nick scurried over and plucked a sandwich off the platter. “You’re not going to be weird if you see me rocking a skirt, right?”

“Fuck no. I’m all about freeballing. A skirt or dress would be awesome for that.”

“Why do they call these finger sandwiches?” Nick wiggled the little square of food in his hand. “When I was little, I thought they had real fingers in them and I thought people who ate them were cannibals. Same with ladyfingers, you know, the cookies? I still can’t eat them because all I can think about when I see them is crunching down on a chocolate-covered finger. At least these little sammies don’t look like fingers.”

“I think they call them that because you eat them with your hands?” Vlado cut me a bewildered, sidelong glance.

“But you eat all sandwiches with your hands. That’s the whole point of a sandwich. I should text Gray so he can ask Eli. He’d know.”

“Who? And also, what?” I tried to follow the shift in conversation.

“My other bestie, Gray. His little brother is a genius. Not like ‘oh, he’s a genius’ but like ‘he’s agenius.’” He shoved the sandwich in his mouth and grabbed another. “I bet he also does math for fun.”

“Are you calling me a genius, or a nerd?” I asked slowly, still not completely caught up with the conversation.

“Depends. Are you a genius?”

“No?”

“Then I guess it’s door number two.” He popped the sandwich piece in his mouth. “Why does rich-people food always taste like sadness and air?” he asked as he chewed. “Is that how they stay rich? By not buying seasoning? Or is flavor the new rich-person gluten and everyone is fashionably avoiding it?”

Vlado shoved several of the sandwich squares in his mouth and chewed around a grin. “You get used to the blandness. At least the coffee is good.”

Nick swiped the cup out of Vlado’s hand and took a sip. “Yeah, I’ll stick with the bubbly.” He handed it back. “Just because something is expensive, doesn’t mean it’s good. The dark brew at my work has a better flavor profile, and it’s less acidic. This is boring coffee for boring people with too much money. Proves you can put lipstick on a pig but that doesn’t make it a beauty queen.”

Vlado coughed around the sandwich he’d been swallowing, and I let out a bark of laughter.

Listening to Nick talk was a wild ride, but his inability to keep to a topic and all his rambling tangents only made him more fun. Usually I hated when people wasted my time with drivel and useless chatter, but Nick was different. Refreshing and so full of life.

“Are we ready to start trying on?”

We spun toward Elizabeth, who had a tape measure around her neck and a box of pins in her hand.

Nick nodded vigorously.

I settled in my chair as Nick and Elizabeth dragged the humongous rack of clothes into the dressing room.

“Remember the bill when you let Emily loose in that shop in Milan for her sweet sixteen?”

“I remember.” I smiled at the memory of my sister rushing around the store, excitedly choosing things to try on, much like Nick. “I have a feeling he’s going to blow her total out of the water.”

“He’s good for you. I haven’t seen this side of you in years.” Vlado slurped down the rest of his coffee, his head tilted back as he just drained the cup as if my heart weren’t slamming a hole against my chest from what he’d said.

“Ready to be amazed?” Nick called from the dressing room, saving me from having to answer.

“Bring it!” Vlado shouted back.

Still reeling a bit from Vlado’s declaration, I jerked my attention over to where Nick was stepping out in a textured navy-blue suit and a vibrantly patterned shirt.

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