Faker - Sarah Smith Page 0,85

either. Introverts unite.”

Worry clouds his face. “I just don’t want you to be disappointed when you meet everyone at the reunion.”

“Why would I be? Brendan is great, and your sister sounds lovely.”

“No, I mean, disappointed in me.”

I hold his hand in both of mine. “I could never be disappointed in you.”

He finds my gaze. Again my touch seems to unlock something inside of him. “I’m nervous that you’ll see how great my sister is, and then realize how awkward I am. I’m scared you’ll be turned off. I like you so much, Emmie. I don’t want to drive you away.”

I lean forward, my lips falling against his in a soft, chaste kiss. Such a far cry from the filthy kiss he gave me on the couch.

“Never in a million years would I think that about my boyfriend.”

I plop onto his lap. It’s the same straddling position I assumed when we fooled around in the Three Happiness Express parking lot.

He pats the sides of my calves. “Nice try. We’re done for the night. Rest and recover, remember?”

I shoot him my best pouty smile when I plop back into my seat. He grins, then his gaze narrows at his lap.

“What’s this?”

I squint to see black text on crumpled white paper. When he unfolds it and the bold letters come into focus, my stomach falls to my feet. It’s the relationship disclosure form I tucked into my pocket earlier today. It must have fallen out when I straddled him.

My brain sends a million panicked messages to my hands to seize the paper from his hands before he can read it, but I’m frozen in shock. It’s too late anyway. He grips it in both hands, gazing at it with a frown of concentration. What is he thinking? Probably that his new girlfriend is commitment obsessed and wants to take things to the next level way the hell too soon.

When my hands finally get the message, I snatch the paper from him and shove it back in my pocket.

“Well, have a good night then . . .” I stutter, tumbling out of the car.

He does the gentlemanly thing and waits until I’m inside before he drives away. I stumble into my bathroom and splash cold water on my face, wondering if I’ve ruined everything.

twenty-two

Lying on my couch, I’m still a bundle of nerves from last night’s slip-up. I wanted to talk to Tate about it at work today and apologize for jumping the gun, but he was stuck in meetings with Will and Lynn, then took off for the worksite.

I tangle both hands through my hair. Last night could have ended on such a high note. It had the makings of an epic night, what with a mind-blowing oral session on his couch and plans to meet his sister and friends at his high school reunion. And there I go, ruining the mood of it all because I got carried away thinking about the future.

The truth is, I’d love to make things official at work. I’d love more dates, more fooling around, but I can’t do any of that if I’ve scared him away.

I silently curse myself for the millionth time for shoving such a bulky piece of paper into my yoga pants pocket. Those types of pockets are designed to hold a phone or a key, not folded-up papers. I make a fist in my hair and groan.

I stare at my phone, aching to text Tate a million versions of I’m sorry for jumping the gun! I’m TOTALLY not planning our future like a commitment-obsessed psycho LOL! We’re still cool, right??? I have a feeling this is not an issue to be resolved via text, though.

I glance up at the mountain of pansit still sitting in the giant wok on my stove. A sorry attempt to take my mind off the likely mess I’ve made. I’ll probably eat one plate of that, then put the rest in the freezer, where it will sit along with the two dozen lumpia I rolled the moment I arrived home from work. My mom would be so annoyed. The only time I cook her recipes is when I’m trying to distract myself from self-inflicted humiliation.

Jolting up from the couch, I throw on my sneakers. Walking off this restlessness is the only way I can think to deal.

When I open my front door, I get another jolt. Tate is halfway up my driveway.

His face blank, he holds three yellow, lemon-sized fruits. “Lilikoi delivery.”

“Yay.” I smile, swallowing back all