Page 49 of Fall Fake-Out

I pretend to think it over seriously, but honestly, I’d agree to almost anything if it means I get to keep standing this close to her.

“No,” I say finally. “I think it should be whoever does it best, considering how different the two situations are.”

“Okay, fine. Whoever does it best by Landrie’s wedding wins.”

This might be the greatest arrangement ever proposed to me.

“And what exactly do I win?”

Ari smirks. “The satisfaction of knowing you were right.”

“That’s it?” I step even closer, close enough now that her head has to tilt back slightly to hold my gaze. “I was hoping for a bigger prize than that.”

Her eyes flick down to my mouth for half a second before she catches herself.

“Don’t press your luck.”

Oh, I absolutely plan to.

I offer her my hand. “Deal.”

She eyes it suspiciously before finally sliding her fingers into mine.

Warm and small and soft from lotion or soap or whatever women use that makes them feel so dang nice to touch.

And for one weird second, the whole thing stops feeling fake.

It feels flirty.

Dangerously flirty.

And more real than any other handshake I’ve done in my twenty-seven years.

Ari must feel it too, because her eyes lock on mine for one suspended beat too long. Then she quickly tries tugging her hand back, but I don’t let go easily.

“Hey, lovebirds!” Jaxon calls over the breeze. “I gotta go.”

Ari takes one giant step back as if she’s embarrassed by how close we were.

“Like I said,” I snicker, “you’ll crack under pressure.”

I don’t need to look back at her as I walk to Jaxon’s truck to know she’s glaring at me, but I kind of like it.

Ari

Church in Autumn Ridge has never been quiet.

Not really.

Even now, as Pastor Bruce delivers announcements from the pulpit, whispers still travel through the chapel like wind through dry leaves.

And today? Today the whispers are absolutely about me. Tiny glances and tilted heads. People pretending not to stare while very obviously staring and judging.

Apparently, straddling the principal at a football game really leaves an impression on a small town.

I sit stiffly between my mom and Landrie in our usual pew, pretending to read the church bulletin while my mother radiates disappointment beside me.

We’re not exactly speaking—not after I kissed Wade in our kitchen last night, just to defy her. At least I’m living up to my name as the world’s most aggravating daughter. We all have our roles.