The Bookworm's Guide to Faking (The Bookworm's Guide #2) - Emma Hart Page 0,44
She only just moved the bottle of water out of the way, and she almost choked as she quickly swallowed what she’d been trying to drink.
“Now who’s killing who?” she rasped, patting her chest to clear her throat. She capped the bottle and set it on the nightstand before letting out one big cough.
Then she grabbed the cushion and hit me in the face with it.
“I deserved that,” I admitted.
“Yes, you did.” She turned off her light and slid back under the covers, facing the middle of the bed. The glow from the TV illuminated her features, glinting off her blue eyes, showing the pucker of her lips as she pouted at the screen.
I had no idea what she was pouting at, but the urge to kiss her was…
Terrifying.
I wanted to slip my fingers into her hair, tilt her head back, and kiss her until we sank down in the pillows and my body was covering hers.
But I didn’t want to be punched in the face either, so I didn’t do that.
I settled down myself, looking at the TV. I still didn’t know what was going on in this motel with the eccentric actress—who I was pretty sure was the mom in the original two Home Alone movies—and I wasn’t sure I would ever figure it out.
But I didn’t argue anymore.
This was the closest I’d felt to her since I’d walked into Bookworm’s Books, and I wondered if maybe—just fucking maybe—this might be a friendship we could repair.
If not more.
If I was lucky.
***
“Thank you,” Holley said, leaning on my car window. “For giving me a ride down here.”
I glanced at the garage behind. “That’s it? Just for the ride? Not for paying for your repairs?”
“Hey, if you hadn’t coerced me into the wedding in the first place, I wouldn’t have busted my tire.”
Shit.
She was right.
That was irritating.
“All right, all right, I’m sorry.” I fought the twitch of my lips. “And you’re welcome.”
“I know.” She didn’t bother to fight her own smirk. “Annoyingly… I had fun.”
“I know.” This time, I let it go, and my lips tugged to one side when I winked. “Your dancing leaves a lot to be desired, though.”
“You dance like my dad,” she shot back. “And nobody needs to see that in public. Except they do at least once a week, but I digress.”
My smirk turned into a big ass grin. “I am an excellent dancer, actually.”
Holley pulled off her glasses and held them out to me.
“What are you doing?”
“Offering you these. I think you need them.”
“Ha ha ha,” I replied dryly. “You put those on before you drop them.”
She poked her tongue out. “Shut up.”
“Never.”
She stared at me for a moment, then said, “Thank you.”
My eyebrows lifted. “For what?”
“For this weekend.”
I didn’t speak, waiting for her to elaborate.
She dropped her chin and fiddled with the tassels on her scarf. “I’m glad we were able to clear everything up. From prom.” Her voice almost wavered, but she cleared her throat and looked back up. “As much as I wish things were different, I’m glad I know the truth now.”
I reached out of the open window and cupped her chin, my mouth curling into a small smile. “You’re not half as glad as I am. Do you think we can move on now?”
“Mostly.” She tried desperately to keep a straight face, but as always, her eyes gave her away. “I might still hold a little bit of a grudge. For a while. You know. As a woman.”
“Oh, of course. I would expect nothing less.” I leaned over. “But don’t forget, you’re still technically my fake girlfriend.”
All semblance of amusement dropped. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
“I’ll fix it,” I said hurriedly. “I’ll fix it.”
“Do you promise?” Holley asked, backing away from the truck.
I waited for a minute then said, “No.”
Then I pulled away before she could respond.
I was in so much fucking trouble.
A part of me wanted to keep up this charade. It kept her in my life, gave us a reason to talk, and after last night…
Shit, after last night, that was all I wanted.
Holley in my life.
Even if she was only ever my friend, if we never acted upon what I’d intended to on prom night. We were different people now, after all, and nothing was guaranteed.
But having your best friend back was more important than anything else.
I just needed to get that message through to that little shitty piece of my heart that hoped there was a chance for something more.