Page 79 of Fake Crown

“Why’d you come here if there wasn’t at least a small part of you that thought we were worth a discussion?”

“I was concerned about your mental health.”

Somewhat valid. If I was back with Val, I’d be worried about my mental health too. “Tell me you feel absolutely nothing for me.”

She sniffs and rubs her cheeks.

“Tell me,” I say again.

“I can’t, okay? Is that what you want to hear? My stone-cold heart has warmed slightly at your constant proximity. You wore me down.”

Not the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard, but her words make my chest swell nonetheless. That’s progress.

She sighs. “But that doesn’t matter because I don’t want to be with someone who won’t defend me when I’m being dragged by their ex-girlfriend or anyone. At Deacon’s party, when Chet came on to me, you claimed you felt protective of me.” She stares at me for a beat. “Where’s that instinct now, Brent, when I actually need it?” She shakes her head, and before I can say anything else, she turns on her heel and races down the side stairs.

“Posey!” I call after her, but I’ve got no shoes on, and nothing good to say in response anyway. My fuckups in this situation are endless, but none of them are Posey’s fault. She met me at an airport and agreed to help me. Look where that’s gotten her. Instead of shouting my feelings for her from the rooftops, I’ve been too afraid to tell her or anyone else how I really feel.

With that small admission she cares, I realize I have a chance. My sister’s idea to grovel doesn’t seem quite right to me, and maybe I’ll fuck this up too.

But I’m not going to grovel.

I’m going to woo.

Posey

The first latte arrives the next morning, but it isn’t Brent delivering it. Instead, Jaxon is on my security screen.

“You can tell him it’s a lost cause,” I say into the speaker system.

“A Jack Frost.” Jaxon holds up the latte.

I purse my lips, and I ring the buzzer to let him up. He passes me the cup at the door, and I give him a wan smile. “He’s going to have to do a lot better than a latte.”

“Oh, he’s aware.” Jaxon grins.

Once he’s left, I realize there’s something taped to the side of the cup. I open the slip of paper, and there’s just one word: YOU.

Destiny wanders out of her room, and she frowns at the cup in my hand. “I thought we kicked Faulkner to the curb.”

“Seems he can take a beating,” I say as I stare at the word and try to puzzle out what it means.

Nadiya’s door down the hall flies open with a clatter. “Holy shit! Posey are you and Faulkner back together?”

“Technically we were never—” I say.

“He’s responding to all the people on Val’s posts,” Nadiya says, passing me her phone.

I click on his replies, and my lips twitch. Brevity at its finest. On most of the comments, he’s simply written “Untrue” in response to whatever rant is there. But at the bottom of Val’s post, he’s written a longer message saying that Val has deliberately misled people about their relationship prior to Thanksgiving and she’s continuing to misrepresent the situation. I’m no sooner done reading it than it disappears.

“The bitch deleted it,” I whisper.

“What?” Nadiya takes back her phone, and then she gasps as her feed updates.

I’m almost too afraid to ask, but she turns her phone toward me, and there is a photo of me and Brent. We’re in Bermuda at the beach, and we’ve both got a slice of pizza in our hands. I forgot he snapped that picture. Feels like so long ago.

“That lighting is ace,” Destiny says, peering over Nadiya’s shoulder. “The two of you are glowing.” She points at the caption. “Aww. Look at that.”

The caption is simple: One of my favorites of one of my favorites.