Page 66 of Puck Happens

Could she ever trust me? Did I want her to?

The answer to that was absolutely yes.

“Did people see me freak out?”

“It’s so cute you think anyone looking our way would be looking at you. I’m the famous one, remember?”

She scowled at me. “I used to be famous too. Little girls in skating costumes would line up for my autograph.”

“You want me to get a few kids over here?” I asked her, only half joking because if that’s what she wanted, that’s what I would do to make her happy.

“Nah,” she said. “Let’s go win some more shit.”

That was my girl. Upset forgotten and on to the next thing.

Not my girl. Not my girl.

“I’m hungry. I say we carb up. We can hit up The Lobster Pot for some lobster mac & cheese, Birdie’s Falafels are also pretty amazing. Or we can check out Pappa’s, but my guess is that will be packed. Or we can sneak into the kitchen at the Gull and I can fry you up some more wings.”

“Yes,” she said with a definitive nod. “To everything but the diner, I don’t want to wait for food.”

“I like where your head is Miss Tyler-Branch. We’ll start with the falafels, hit the Pot and finish strong with some wings.”

I hopped to my feet and held my hand out to her. Something I hadn’t done before when she’d fallen on the ice.

For a second she eyed it suspiciously, like she was remembering that moment too, then she took it and I pulled her to her feet.

It was safe to say theIgnore Liv Planwas officially dead.

I was going to need a new plan.

13

One-Eyed Gull

Dillon

It took me a few hours, but I came up with a new plan.

I was calling this one theFuck Liv Out of My System Plan.

Again, not planning on sharing the details with her, but the gist was pretty much in the plan name.

We were sitting in the kitchen of the Gull, which didn’t open for another hour. The remains of our takeaway of falafels, lobster mac and cheese and the wings were scattered around the counter.

Liv was licking her fingers and smiling, clearly satisfied with both her victories and our rewards. We’d ended up using her tickets for the falafel.

“Was I right, or was I right?” I asked her.

“You were wrong. The lobster mac and cheese was the clear winner.”

I pretended to be outraged.

“Where are the wet wipes?” she asked.

I got up and found the drawer where Wendy kept the store of packets and tossed a few on the counter. I threw away our garbage and checked the clock.

Staff was going to be coming in soon.

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