Page 55 of Fake It For Him

“I can’t believe you did that,” he said. “You shouldn’t trust this guy, Ella. He’s a selfish, arrogant asshole, and for all you know, he was only ‘vulnerable’ to get back in your pants. From the sounds of things, it worked, so I guess he’s got your number now.”

Okay, that stings. I shook it off. “I’m a big girl. I can make my own decisions.”

“Not good ones, apparently,” he said.

Kara and I exchanged a glance, both of us rolling our eyes. He wasn’t going to come around. Not to Calan and not to my arrangement with him. Not even if I felt so much better about it today.

“Sorry, Dad,” I joked eventually, deciding to play it off instead of getting into it with him. He was trying to protect me, and while I didn’t need him to, it was nice that he cared enough to try.

Kara laughed. “Get back to your painting, Dad. These cabinets aren’t going to finish themselves and you said we had to get it done today. Your house, your rules, Dad.”

He scoffed at both of us and picked up his paintbrush again. For the rest of the afternoon while we worked, we kept calling him Dad, annoying the hell out of him. It led to a playful fight of us painting each other with our brushes.

The first time I felt the wet, thick, sticky liquid being brushed onto the back of my arm, I yelped and grabbed the spot, not immediately understanding what it was. My hand came away turquoise and I spun around, narrowing my eyes before I retaliated.

Obviously, nobody won. We were all turquoise and reeking of paint by the end of the day when Kara finally called a truce. “Okay. Okay. I know this stuff is washable, but we should stop before we end up having to scrub the entire apartment.”

I held my hands up in surrender, the paint tugging at the short hairs on my arms where it’d gone dry. “Who’s showering first?”

Kara put up her hand. “I’m the messiest, so it’s going to be me.”

She was right. She had paint smeared across her forehead, her cheeks, and her previously blonde hair. A chuckle worked itself out of me and I nodded. “That’s a good color on you. It really brings out your eyes.”

She waggled her eyebrows at me before winking. “I might just have to make an appointment with my hairdresser.”

Mikey groaned. “Please, God. No. We are twenty-eight years old, Kara. The time for funky hair is over.”

“It’s never over,” she said cheerfully. “Not if you’re one hundred percent awesome, like me. Besides, I’m a freelance makeup artist. People expect me to be funky and independent.”

Before he could respond, she wiggled her painted fingers at us in a wave and took off to grab a shower. When the door shut behind her, Mikey and I started cleaning up, putting the lids back on the tins of paint and washing the brushes.

“Look, I’m sorry if I’m coming across as judgmental,” he said quietly as he balled up some of the newspaper we’d used to cover the floor and stuck it into a black garbage bag. His hair fell over his forehead as he looked at me. “I just want to make sure you’re being careful. Guys like Calan can be dangerous.”

“I know,” I replied, my tone equally soft and gentle. “I won’t let him hurt me, Mikey. It’s just going to make it easier spending all this time with him now that we’re in a better place. That’s all.”

Those kind eyes surveyed mine for a moment before he let out a deep breath. “I trust you. It’s just that as your friend, I need to say my piece. I get that it’s going to make things easier and I’m happy for you because of that, but just be careful, okay? Be smart.”

“I will.” I paused for a beat and smiled. “Thank you. You can stop worrying about me now, though. Only six more weeks to go and this will all be a thing of the past.”

Which was what I was focused on, but at the same time, I wasn’t looking forward to it quite as much as I had been before. There was a tiny—the tiniest—part of something deep down inside me that already knew I was going to be sad to see the Reids go.

I really did like Freya, and Calan? Well, it was complicated, but I was starting to like him just a little bit too.

29

CALAN

Two weeks after Ella and I had had our big talk, things were still as comfortable between us as they had been when we’d eaten that ice cream on my kitchen floor. It was weird, but I was starting to ease into this arrangement we had going on. Even weirder yet was that I was honestly enjoying any time spent with her now.

There was snow on the ground as we arrived at my family estate for Freya and Jim’s engagement party. The entire place was decked out for Christmas—and the party. Decorations had been strung along the top of the main gates. Bright red and green striped candy canes hung in the trees.

Festive flags had been stuck into the ground here and there, and when we approached the house, I saw a massive canvas mounted on an easel with elegant script printed on it, welcoming guests to the celebration of their engagement.

Ella smiled in the passenger seat beside me, her hands clasped together in her lap like she was nervous but excited as she looked around. “Wow. Your family really goes all out for the holidays, don’t they?”

I shrugged. “My mom loves the festive season. Always has. Wait until we get inside.”

She nodded and I got out of the car, jogging around it to open her door before I went to the backseat and pulled out an immaculately wrapped gift for the couple. It was hard to buy something for someone who had everything, and bought what she wanted if she didn’t have it, so I’d enlisted Ella’s help.