I slide out of the booth so the girls can reach Blondie, and as Ronnie takes my vacated seat, I lean in, speaking just loudenough for her to make me out over the surrounding music and chatter. “She doesn’t think I was actually here. She convinced herself I’m a hallucination, and I just…” I give a helpless shrug. “I don’t want her to feel embarrassed about anything she said, so maybe…stick with that.”
Understanding lights up Ronnie’s face, and she gasps. “Oh, my god, she finally told you about her mom?”
I cast a wary glance at Blondie, but she hasn’t budged an inch or responded at all to Ronnie’s words, so I give an affirmative nod. “Among other things,” I admit. “And I’m not sure how she’d react if she knewthisis how she told me.”
Ronnie’s eyes follow my outstretched hand to her intoxicated best friend, who is quite literally drooling into her hair.
She frowns, then peers over at her cousin, who is sitting on the opposite side of the circular booth. “Hey, And?” When the other girl meets her gaze, Ronnie jerks her chin toward Blondie. “Would you take care of that, please?”
Her cousin doesn’t miss a beat. “On it.” Reaching across the table, Andie plucks Blondie’s cell phone from her relaxed grip while Ronnie gently maneuvers my fake girlfriend’s finger onto the button at the bottom of the screen to unlock the device.
I’m about to ask what the hell they’re doing when Andie turns the phone to face me. “Was Lexi here already when you made this call?” she asks, pointing to the latest entry in Blondie’s recent calls list.
I narrow my eyes and peer hard at the time stamp. “Yeah,” I confirm. “I called to see if she was okay and came here as soon as I realized she was drinking alone.”
Ronnie’s brow dips into a worried vee as she glances down at Blondie. “All right, delete that.”
Andie gives her a thumbs up. “You got it. And for extra measure…”
She taps Blondie’s phone screen, and a second later, Ronnie’s purse—which the redhead had tossed onto the table upon their arrival—starts screeching and shaking. Reaching inside the bag, Ronnie pulls out her phone and hits the green answer button, letting the call continue for about thirty seconds before finally hanging up.
“Alibi secured,” she informs us, and I blink between the two of them, confused.
Andie gestures to the phone held aloft in her hand. “Lexi isn’t stupid. She’ll check her call log as soon as she’s sober. This way, she’ll thinkshecalledus, and that’s why we came to get her.”
“And with the evidence of your call to her deleted, she’ll never even know you were here,” Ronnie adds.
My startled gaze swings between the cousins. They look nothing alike, and I remember Blondie telling me they aren’t even biologically related, and yet…
“That was some really creepy twin-level shit,” I breathe, my voice awed, as Andie slides around the bench seat to the other side of the booth, and loops one of Blondie’s arms over her shoulders while Ronnie takes hold of the other, hoisting her upright.
As they shimmy out of the narrow space between the table and seat, the cousins exchange a smug smile. “We get that a lot,” Andie says.
They’re about to walk past me with Blondie in tow—her eyes are still heavy-lidded, but she’s conscious enough to at least shuffle along at their urging—when I choke out, “Hey, could you, um…keep me posted? Just the odd text to let me know she’s okay.”
Ronnie’s responding stare is assessing, as if she’s trying to make up her mind about something. Finally, she inclines her head. “Sure.”
I exhale a strained breath, my chest and shoulders visibly deflating with relief. “Thanks.”
“Let’s go,” Andie urges. “I love this bitch, but damn, she’s heavy.”
I expect them to leave then, but Ronnie stands statue-still, ignoring her cousin’s goading, her brown eyes locked intently on my face. I don’t think she blinks once in the seconds that pass, and I’m about to ask what she’s looking at when she says, “It pains me to admit this, but…you’remaybenot as much of an asshole as I thought.”
My lips curl into a smile, and I snort out a laugh. “That is the second best compliment I’ve received today.”
Andie pokes her head around Blondie’s wild mane of curls. “What’s the first?”
My smile deepens as I remember the sultry way Blondie called me Mr. Big Dick. But I don’t tell them about that. Instead, I tap the side of my nose and wink. “That one’s between me and my girlfriend.”
“I think you meanfakegirlfriend,” Ronnie corrects me in a hushed breath before leading Blondie toward the door.
Maybe,I muse as I watch them walk off. But now that I know what’s actually going in Blondie’s head, it hopefully won’t stay that way for long. After weeks of wrangling with my feelings and the kind of person I want to be moving forward, I’m ready for the real thing, and I want it with her. I just need to find a way to prove that I’m not going anywhere if she’ll have me. That nothing could ever scare me away.
First, though,I remind myself with a heated glare over my shoulder, locking eyes on the laughing man behind the counter.
I’ve got a bartender to deal with.
My emotional state today is like a fraction. My numerator is panic, and my denominator is dread.
