Faker - Sarah Smith Page 0,23

from a heartfelt greeting card. Those are the kindest words he’s spoken to me.

I glance at him. He glows under the parking lot lights. “Thanks for helping me get down,” I say. “Sorry, I should have said that sooner.”

He nods, his mouth curving into a not-quite-smile. “You’re welcome.”

The yellowy light reveals a smudge of chalk on his forehead. Slowly, I reach my fingers to him. He doesn’t jerk away like I think he will. In fact, he doesn’t move at all, not even when my thumb glides against his hot, wet skin. He simply stands, still as a tree, his eyes on me the entire time. A wave of comfort washes over me. Touching him feels like the most natural thing in the world right now.

“Chalk on your face.” I wipe my hand on my thigh.

“Thanks.” That not-quite-smile remains. He turns away and walks back inside.

My hand falls on my chest, and I gasp for air. Tate Rasmussen saved me tonight. Color me surprised.

six

I guzzle a Cherry Coke and rum while listening to Kelsey chatter on during her going-away happy hour at Jimi D’s Bar and Grill. Lucky lady is moving to Florida for her husband’s new job. After sipping, I sigh. I’m going to miss her high-pitched giggles and the fun-loving personality she brings to Nuts & Bolts.

“Don’t get me wrong. I love it here. This is the heartland after all.” She clutches my arm like she’s worried I’ll take offense.

I wince. The multiple rings she’s wearing dig into my flesh. I shake my head, pulling my arm away as I laugh along. My phone dings. Jamie texts that he’s running late but will be here once he’s done with work. Luckily, my recent rock wall freak-out didn’t cost me the flirty edge in our text conversations. After Tate disappeared inside, Jamie came out to check on me. I explained how heights weren’t my cup of tea, and he said he appreciated how I gave climbing a shot. He still seems into me, and I’m definitely still into him.

The Nuts & Bolts crew has taken over half of the bar. Almost everyone from work is here, even antisocial Gus, because no reasonable person would decline free alcohol paid for by their employer. Surprisingly, I don’t see creepy Brett. I would have thought he’d be first in line at the bar, but I’m delighted to not have to deal with him.

“But the beach!” Kelsey’s pitch reaches glass-shattering levels. “I’ve been dreaming about this for years. Sticking my feet in the sand, closing my eyes, and just forgetting about it all.”

Her hair spray–stiff curls bounce when she throws her head back. I nod absentmindedly, wishing I could teleport to Hapuna Beach right about now. I’d give anything to dive under those crystal-blue waves.

Kelsey turns to the group next to her, regaling them with a tale about Florida beach hotties.

“Joke’s on her. Pensacola is a shithole.” I flip around to see Tate on the stool next to me.

Other than our weekly meeting, this is the most he’s spoken to me since the rock climbing gym. His momentary sweetness was a blip, evidently.

“She’s moving to Panama City.” I frown at him.

“That’s even worse.” He grips a small glass of clear liquid and ice.

“Water?”

“Vodka.”

“Wow. You drink like a Russian mobster.”

“And you drink like a sorority girl who’s scared of hard liquor.” He gestures to my half-empty glass with a cherry floating in it. Yup, he has definitely forgotten any temporary kindness toward me.

I stand up and move next to Will. The rest of the evening carries on in loud conversations about sports, work woes, and whispered gossip. The Nuts & Bolts crew slowly trickles out of the bar a few at a time. The company agreed to pay for drinks until seven, and I assume most will leave then. I check my phone periodically for a text or call from Jamie, but nothing so far.

“You didn’t let me finish,” Tate says. I glance up from my phone and notice he’s planted himself next to me again.

“Can’t you take a hint? I don’t want to sit next to you,” I groan like a petulant child.

“Too bad. This was the only free seat left.”

I scan the room and see two empty seats on the other side of the bar. “There’s an empty seat over there.” I point. “And there.”

“I meant it as a joke.”

I drain the last of my second Cherry Coke and rum. “What are you talking about?”

“I was joking when I called your drink