The Bookworm's Guide to Faking It (The Bookworm's Guide, #2)

by Emma Hart

  I stomped my foot against the wooden floor. “This—I didn’t—I don’t… Argh!”

  He walked to the counter and tore a piece of paper from the notebook that was there and open, grabbed the pen and scribbled down on it. He picked up the paper and brought it over to me.

  “This is my number,” he said, taking my wrist and putting the paper in my palm before folding my fingers over it into a fist. “Text me, and I’ll tell you the details.”

  I opened my mouth.

  Again, nothing came out.

  He winked.

  Then he backed up and threw a goodbye to a grinning Saylor, leaving me opening and closing my mouth like a lame little goldfish who was struggling to breathe.

  That’s what it felt like.

  Struggling to breathe.

  There was no way this was happening.

  There was no way I was going to go to his sister’s wedding with him.

  How the hell had this happened?

  “I’m not doing it!” I chased after him, running out onto the freezing cold sidewalk. “Sebastian! I mean it! Sebastian!”

  “We’ll see!” He didn’t even turn around, just threw up a hand as he turned the corner and disappeared out of my sight.

  I shivered, half from the cold and half from annoyance.

  I was going to kill him.

  I stormed back into the store and slammed the door behind me. “Thank you so much for your help.”

  Saylor beamed at me. “You’re welcome.”

  “Ugh!” I crumpled his number up in my fist and collapsed onto the counter.

  “I don’t know why you’re so mad,” Saylor said after a moment. “You have Sebastian Stone’s phone number. That’s a good thing.”

  “What,” I ground out. “Is good about this?”

  “Well, I bet you could put it on eBay and make a shit ton of money.”

  “Saylor. Be serious.”

  “Charity auction?”

  “Saylor.”

  She stacked the books for the book club with such force it made me jerk up, and she waved one in my face. “Holley, I’m not going to tell you what you want to hear. I think you’re a giant baby who needs to get over yourself and the past, and if you going to his sister’s wedding with him means you’ll finally talk to him and get answers and obtain some closure for what happened at prom, then that can only be good thing.” She put the pink-wrapped book on top of the stack. “Now, go and take these to Margaret and Bonita or I’m going to have to drink myself to death tonight.”

  With that, she turned around and wandered off to the staff room, humming a tune that sounded suspiciously like Ed Sheeran.

  I stared at the book club books and sighed.

  Talk about deflated.

  I mean, she wasn’t wrong.

  I did need to get over myself. I did need to get over what had happened.

  And if I was honest, I wasn’t at all surprised that Sebastian had tricked me into saying yes. That was exactly why I didn’t argue with him—it was because he’d always, always been able to tie me up in knots and make me lose the argument. He had an innate ability to get me all twisted around so I ended up agreeing with him even if I didn’t want to, and that was exactly what he’d just done to me.

  Goddamn it.

  I unfurled my fingers and looked at the crumpled piece of paper. It moved as it had the freedom to open itself, and my heart lurched when I saw his handwriting.

  It hadn’t changed a bit.

  Unbidden, a smile tugged at my lips at the familiarity of his messy scrawl, and my eyes darted back and forth across his number.

  I should have tossed it in the trash.

  I should have burned it.

  Threw it down the toilet.

  Drowned it in the sink.

  Done anything with it but what I did.

  And that was tuck it into the back pocket of my jeans before looking at the door, even though he was long, long gone.

  Damn him.

  CHAPTER FIVE – HOLLEY

  rule five: lies and cliffhangers are one and the same. full of duplicity and an unsatisfying ending.

  at least it’s legal to throw books. people… not so much.

  I stared at my phone.

  I’d put Sebastian’s number into it for safekeeping. Despite my proclivity for organization, I did have a habit of being on the forgetful side. There was every chance I’d lose Sebastian’s number, so that was why it was in my phone.

  At least that’s what I was telling myself.

  I was really great at lying to myself.

  I sighed and put my phone down. I wasn’t going to do this. I wasn’t going to text him. Absolutely nothing good would come from texting Sebastian Stone.

  God only knew nothing good had come from seeing him twice.

  As if my day wasn’t bad enough. That book Saylor swore to me had a happy ending?

  She’d lied.

  No happy ending.

  It was a big, fat cliffhanger, so I was extra mad.

  And it was Monday.

  It was like a giant trifecta of bullshittery.

  The timer in the kitchen went off, so I went it to get my dinner. After fixing my plate with spaghetti Bolognese, I took it into the living room and set the plate down on the coffee table so I could find something to watch on TV.

  There was nothing, so Game of Thrones it was.

  Then I immediately pulled my phone onto the table next to my plate and unlocked it with my thumbprint.

  Clearly, I wasn’t watching it today.

  The screen flashed up with the unwritten text message to Sebastian. I frowned at it as I twirled spaghetti onto my fork. Even if I did text him, what was I supposed to say? Everyone knew it was easier to talk over text than in person. If I started this conversation, what kind of can of worms would I be opening?

  I’ll tell you.

  Not one filled with worms at all.

  It’d be one filled with snakes. Deadly snakes.

  I mulled it over as I ate. There was no right answer to this situation, and I was annoyed that I’d put myself in it by bringing his number home.

  I was an idiot.

  I put down my fork and picked up my phone, then typed out a quick message.

  ME: You should know that I’m not happy about this.

  There. That would tell him who I was without the need for me to introduce myself. Even if I didn’t want him having my number, it was inevitable. He had to understand that I wasn’t going to his sister’s wedding. There were no guarantees he’d be back in the store and I didn’t know where he was living right now, so this was my only means of communication with him.

  File that under Lies I Tell Myself.

  I could write a freakin’ self-help book about that. Become one of those whacky social media gurus, make a truckload of money, leave White Peak for a bit city somewhere and—

  Ooh, no. That wouldn’t do. There were lots of people in cities, and I didn’t do people.

  As my current sweater declared: it’s too peopley outside.

  My phone flashed with another message, and I unlocked it.

  SEBASTIAN: Holy fuck. You actually kept my number.

  I snorted.

  ME: It was against my better judgment.

  SEBASTIAN: I didn’t think you actually would. I was gearing up for a battle.

  ME: Well, you’ll have one. With your elderly relatives on Saturday night. I’m not going.

  SEBASTIAN: You said you would.

  ME: No, you tricked me into saying I would. It doesn’t count. MANIPULATION doesn’t count.

  SEBASTIAN: …Come on. How bad could it be?

  ME: The last time you said that to me, prom happened.

  SEBASTIAN: And I want to explain everything to you so you know the truth. That’s hardly a secret. You just won’t listen.

  ME: I’ve moved on.

  SEBASTIAN: No you haven’t. If you had, you wouldn’t be like this. You’re not over it, Holley, and neither am I.

  I
paused at that. He wasn’t over it? How could he possibly not be over it? He wasn’t the one who’d been hurt that night. He’d stayed in town for all of a week before he’d gone off for some junior baseball tournament and then to the Montana Bears’ yearly junior training camp.

  He hadn’t tried then.

  ME: You didn’t try to explain it then. Why not?

  SEBASTIAN: My injury has put a lot of things into perspective. I’m going to be here for months, maybe even longer than that. We don’t know. You’ve always been a part of my life here. I can’t imagine living in White Peak and not having you around.

  ME: Imagine it, Sebastian. You’ve been here for a few weeks already and never tried.

  SEBASTIAN: I tried. Just couldn’t get the balls to walk through the door, to be honest.

  ME: That’s ridiculous.

  SEBASTIAN: You’re right. It is. But so is all this.

  ME: I just don’t see what good it does to bring up the past.

  SEBASTIAN: Well then figure it out. You’re the one living in it.

  Ouch.

  That one stung. Not because it was untrue but because… he was right.

  Annoyingly so.

  I’d always hated that.

  ME: Fair enough.

  SEBASTIAN: Holley, please. Come to the stupid wedding party with me. I’ll make sure we get separate rooms, I’ll pay for everything, and when it’s all over, just give me a little time to tell you what really happened that night.

  I was so going to regret this.

  ME: Fine.

  SEBASTIAN: Really?

  ME: Yes, fine. I’ll do it. But I’m only there as your friend as far as everyone is concerned. I’m not pretending to be your girlfriend or anything stupid like that.

  SEBASTIAN: You won’t have to.

  ME: And definitely our own rooms.

  SEBASTIAN: Definitely our own rooms. I’ll call them first thing and book yours.

  ME: I’m not happy about this.

  SEBASTIAN: I am.

  ME: Oh, go away.

  SEBASTIAN: Now that I have your number again? You wish.

  ME: *middle finger emoji*

  His response was a string of the laughing face emojis, and I tossed my phone onto the sofa next to me. It landed screen down, thank God, and I looked back at my half-eaten dinner.

  I pushed some spaghetti around the plate. What had I done? That hadn’t been why I’d texted him. Getting stuck with him in a hotel overnight was my idea of hell, and I definitely hadn’t meant to agree to let him tell me what had really happened.

  So why was my heart beating a little faster at the prospect of knowing the truth?

  I knew what happened.

  We’d gone together to prom knowing we wouldn’t see each other again for a while. Secretly, I’d planned to admit to him that I felt more than friendship. Right toward the end of the night when I was gearing up to do it, I’d gone looking for him and found him kissing the girl who’d make my high school life hell.

  You know the one. We all had her in our past. The pretty, popular, out-of-your-league girl who only liked you if you could do her homework for her, and even then, her friendship came with thinly veiled disapproval.

  Except Iris had never given me any kind of friendship. Seb and I had always been the stereotypical jock-slash-nerd pairing, but we’d only been friends. She’d long hated how close I was to him and told everyone very loudly it should have been her.

  At prom, she’d gotten her wish, and my heart had broken into a thousand pieces.

  Of all the girls I could have found him kissing, it was her.

  So I knew what happened. I didn’t know why I needed to relive that night from his point of view, unless—

  Unless there was another point of view.

  I froze.

  Was there something I didn’t know about that night? Something I’d never let him actually tell me because I was too wrapped up in myself?

  I dropped my fork, letting it clatter to the plate, and pushed the plate away.

  Son of a biscuit.

  ***

  “That would make sense,” Ivy said as I set a cup of hot cocoa down in front of her. “I always thought there was something more to what happened that night. It’s not like he’d ever shown any interest in Iris before.”

  I took a seat on the opposite end of the sofa and cradled my mug. Her apartment was covered in boxes since her, Kai, and baby Tegan were one week away from move day. Since Kinsley was back, I’d come over to help her pack up a bunch of stuff, but all we’d done was snuggle Tegan and eat our body weights in chips and salsa.

  “He hadn’t,” I confirmed, curling up in the corner. “He was nice to her, but Seb was nice to everyone.”

  “By all accounts, he still is,” my sister said. “I obviously have no interest in sports whatsoever, but he pops up in the entertainment sections every now and then. Did you know he organizes huge toy drives for kids in foster homes and hospitals every year? Plus he donates a ton of money to local kids’ hospitals in Montana every year.”

  “You’re making it very hard to keep hating him.”

  “Yeah, you hate him.” She snorted and set her mug down. “Hols, you don’t think I believe that, do you?”

  I sighed, holding the mug as close to myself as I could. “I don’t know how I feel. It’s all really weird, and I thought I was over it all, but then I saw him again…”

  My sister smiled sympathetically. “You never got closure on your friendship. It’s okay to feel the way you do. You guys were inseparable for years, and I know that night hurt you. I just don’t get why you’re waiting until Saturday to find out what he wants to tell you. That’s four days away.”

  I looked down into the swirling mass that was the melted marshmallows in my cocoa. “I don’t know,” I said quietly. “I guess I’m in denial.”

  “You guess?”

  “Fine, I’m in denial.” I met her eyes again. “What if I’ve been wrong all these years, Ives? What if I ruined our friendship over a misunderstanding? Then what do I do?”

  She touched her hand to my knee. “Then it happened,” she said simply. “You can’t change what you did eight years ago, Holley. You were a completely different person back then—you were younger, more naïve, more easily led by your emotions. You can’t judge yourself for what you did then. Only how you handle the situation now.”

  “When did you get so wise?”

  “Eh. You learn a lot when you’re incubating a tiny human and have a lot of time to eat cake and watch TV.” She shrugged. “There’s also a lot of sappy, motivational stuff on Tumblr.”

  I fought a smile, but it failed the second she grinned at me.

  “Seriously. If you want to ignore it until Saturday, then ignore it. But you can’t be mad at him until then if you’re not going to fix it.”

  “All right, Dr. Phil, I get it. I don’t think I’ll be seeing him until Saturday anyway, so it’s fine. It’s all fine.”

  “It’s not fine, is it?”

  “Of course it’s not fine. How am I supposed to last until Saturday not knowing?”

  “Then text him and tell him to meet you tonight so you can talk.”

  “I can’t do that!”

  “Why not?” Her tone was dry, and her amusement flickered in her eyes as she fought a smile.

  “I don’t want him to know I care!”

  “He knows you care.”

  “I know, but I don’t want him to know that I know that he knows.”

  Ivy counted that on her fingers. “I think that makes sense.”

  The front door opened, and Kai stepped in, pausing when he saw me. “I see you two got a lot of packing done.”

  Ivy blinked at him, giving him her best innocent look. “Well, you see, it’s like this.”

  “Tegan was hungry,” I started.

  “So I had to feed her, and then she puked everywhere,” Ivy continued.

  “So we had to bath her,” I went on. “Then she wanted cuddles.”
<
br />   “So Holley cuddled her so I could take a shower because I was covered in vomit.”

  “Then she needed to sleep, so Ivy boobed her until she fell asleep.”

  “Then Vincent stopped by with cake and woke her up, so we had to do it all again.”

  “Then we were so tired we had to sit down for a moment and talk over all my life’s problems,” I finished.

  Kai’s lips curved to one side. “So what exactly did you get packed?”

  “Three towels, all the bath bubbles, and…” She trailed off.

  “I bubble wrapped some candles!” I offered brightly.

  He stared flatly at me. “Productive day, then.”

  “Yep.” Ivy grinned and accepted the kiss he offered her. “If you go into Tegan’s room and wake her up, I’m going to kill you.”

  “I’m not going in there. I’m coming to join the conversation about all Holley’s problems.” He took a seat in the armchair. “What is it this time? Stuck between a romance or a thriller?”

  I offered him the finger. “Just because you’re my brother-in-law doesn’t mean you get to talk shit to me. That’s my job to you.”

  He grinned. “But that’s not fun.”

  “I have to be honest and say that I don’t really care,” I mused.

  He poked his tongue out at me right as Tegan started to wail from her room. “I got her,” he said right as Ivy went to move. “Stay there.”

  She smiled at him, and he brushed his hand over her hair as he passed her.

  I sighed.

  Oh, to have a love like theirs.

  “What?” Ivy said, seeing me stare at her.

  “Nothing.” I shook my head and sipped my cocoa. “I was just wondering what it would feel like to be loved as much as he loves you.”