Page 44 of Fall Fake-Out

“Like, one hundred,” Landrie groans. “But I guess when you’re inviting the entire town, that’s to be expected.”

“Good thing your handwriting is cute,” he says.

“You see?” My mom looks at me. “That’s exactly what I’ve been saying.”

I stare at the envelope in front of me. No cute handwriting. No perfect guy to adore me. Everything about me feels lacking in my mother’s eyes.

Wade pulls out the chair beside me. “You alright?”

“Fine.”

He studies my face for one second too long.

Annoyingly perceptive man.

My mom stacks another pile of invitations. “We were just discussing the football game last night.”

“Ah.” Wade leans back in his chair. “What a great come-from-behind win, right?”

“That’s not what she’s referring to,” I say. “She’s upset about the bee attack.”

“Yes, well.” Mom sniffs. “Some people online seem to think it looked less like bees and more like public indecency. People are talking.”

“They seem to do that in this town, don’t they?” Wade says easily. “One of Autumn Ridge’s charms.”

“That doesn’t mean I have to like what they’re saying about my daughter.”

“If they’re talking bad about your daughter, then they must not know her too well,” he says. “Because there’s not one bad thing anyone could say about Ari.”

Simple.

Casual.

But something about how quickly he says it tugs at my heart unexpectedly.

Mom looks at him pointedly. “I’m not worried about all the talk. I’m worried about Ari making another bad choice because she mistakes flirtation for substance.”

Okay.

That one does it.

Something hot flashes through me. For Wade. For myself.

“Well, good news for everyone in this town and for this family that likes to comment on my love life.” My voice comes out far calmer than I feel. “Wade and I are officially dating. So you’ll all have plenty to criticize for the next little while.”

Silence.

Complete silence.

Even Jaxon looks startled.

Mom blinks. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” I sit up, looping my arm through his. “We’re together. Boyfriend and girlfriend.”

Wade slowly turns toward me, amusement dancing behind his eyes.

Mom laughs once. Short and disbelieving. “Ari.”