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“New plan.”
I tilted my head at him, but when he simply smiled that sideways smile again, I sighed. “Beau, it’s okay. We can go to the festival.”
“Lyndi, is this your idea of a fun way to spend your Saturday?” he asked, and when I opened my mouth to tell him it was, he held up a warning finger. “Don’t lie to me.”
With a long sigh, I relented. “No, it’s not.”
“Exactly.”
“But it’s fine, I can manage.”
He slid his gaze to me as he drove through the city streets. “Why do you always do that?”
“Do what?”
“Manage. You do it all the time. You’re always trying to act like stuff doesn’t bother you when it clearly does. Why not just be yourself?”
I let out a burst of laughter, complete with a thigh slap. “Ha. You’re one to talk.”
He joined me in laughing as he shook his head. “Oh, so it’s like that, huh?”
“Sure is,Mr. Fake Date.”
“Mm-hmm. Careful with that flirty banter, trope queen. You wouldn’t want this fake relationship story to drift into enemies-to-lovers territory, would you?”
“I mean, without the lovers part, obviously.”
At this, he shot me a wicked grin. “Book ain’t over yet.”
“Beau,” I yelled, totally shocked. I swatted him on the arm. “You didnotjust say that.”
“Ow, I’m kidding, I’m kidding. It’s not my fault you walked right into that.”
“Whatever,” I said with an eye roll, still chuckling. “Where are we going?”
He seemed so relaxed this morning. All of yesterday’s tension had melted away after one night in his childhood home. It was a good look for him, as much as it pained me to admit it. Happy Beau. Not fake happy, but just…happy.
It was nice.
And it kind of made the glimpses I’d gotten through his fake persona for the last year seem even smaller when compared to the canyons of space through his mask now. Maybe it was because he’d told me about his family.
“A daytime ghost tour,” he said after a minute. “New Orleans is haunted, you know.”
I stilled. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Yes.”
“Where are we really going?” I asked again with a huff of impatience.
“You’ll see.”
