Read Online Pretty in Ink (Voretti Family Book 3) by Ava Blackstone - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Ava Blackstone
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himself in front of Ella’s Barbie collection, but this time, instead of staring blankly while he waited for Papa Voretti to kick his ass, he actually looked. Each Barbie was paired with a Ken doll. The Barbie in the ball gown stood next to the Ken in a tux. Tennis Barbie was arm in arm with tennis Ken. And bikini Barbie was ready to hit the waves with the Ken wearing board shorts. Perfectly matched.
Unlike him and Liv. A partner was supposed to help you be your best self—the person you wanted to be. But Liv brought out the worst in him. The emotional toddler who made snap decisions based on momentary gratification instead of logic. Even a fake relationship would be a disaster of epic proportions.
But he could still help her out. He’d talk to her. Calm her down and help her examine her options. Find a way for her to escape her parents’ wrath that didn’t require him to stick by her side for the next four weeks.
He met her gaze—a necessary risk. “You don’t need a boyfriend, Livvy. You need an excuse to get out of the wedding. Come down with the flu.”
“You know my mom. Unless I’m in the hospital hooked up to an IV, she’ll tell me to pop a Tamiflu and some Sudafed and get my ass to church.”
“What about makeup? Can’t you…I don’t know…cover it up?”
“I’ve tried. I can get it to look almost natural, but almost won’t be good enough for Ella. You know she’s gonna be inspecting her bridesmaids before she lets us in front of the photographer. And even the strongest fixing mist isn’t going to stop Bridezilla and a bottle of makeup remover.”
“Wear a sweater.”
“Are you kidding me? She’d rip it off. You saw how she went after my shirt today.”
Desperation forced him to consider anything. “Maybe if you talked to her about it…”
“It’s okay to say no.” She crossed her arms over her chest and stared him down, blue eye flashing an unmistakable message. You don’t have the balls to take me on. “I’m sure you have better things to do.”
Damn right he did. Except that, with Liv in front of him, he couldn’t think of a single one of them. “I…uh…”
He’d given her exactly the opening she needed, but instead of taking him down, her arms fell to her side, like she was the one on the verge of surrender. “I know you’re not my biggest fan. You never liked to be around me. Not even when we were kids.”
“That’s not true.”
“It’s okay. It’s not like it’s breaking news. I don’t know why I even bothered asking you for help.” She turned away, but not before he caught the rapid blink-blink-blink that warned of impending tears.
Aw, no. Anything but that.
“No big deal. I’ll find a way to open my shop. It’ll take a little longer, that’s all.” Her tone was breezy, but there was no mistaking the hurt underneath it. And it wasn’t just about the loan she stood to lose. It was about him. She thought he didn’t want to be her friend.
“Livvy.” She still had her back to him, and he couldn’t stand it. He needed her eyes. “Look at me.”
She didn’t move.
“Please.”
Finally, she turned toward him. But that was worse. Because he couldn’t fool himself into thinking that sheen of moisture in her eyes was anything but tears.
His chest went tight. Liv didn’t cry. Not when she fell off her bike when she was five, fracturing her thumb. Not when Matt spilled paint all over the prom dress she’d spent the weekend sewing. Not even when that waste of space Bennett Rasmussen stood her up for the dance. But she was crying now.
He’d made her lips tremble and the light go out of her eyes, and he had to fix it. “I’ll do it, okay? I’ll be your boyfriend. Fake boyfriend.”
“No!” She swiped a hand across her eyes, removing all evidence of her tears in a single pass. “I’m fine.”
“I want to help.”
“No. You don’t.”
He sighed. “I’m sharing a room with the world’s creepiest collection of Barbies. And, I
Unlike him and Liv. A partner was supposed to help you be your best self—the person you wanted to be. But Liv brought out the worst in him. The emotional toddler who made snap decisions based on momentary gratification instead of logic. Even a fake relationship would be a disaster of epic proportions.
But he could still help her out. He’d talk to her. Calm her down and help her examine her options. Find a way for her to escape her parents’ wrath that didn’t require him to stick by her side for the next four weeks.
He met her gaze—a necessary risk. “You don’t need a boyfriend, Livvy. You need an excuse to get out of the wedding. Come down with the flu.”
“You know my mom. Unless I’m in the hospital hooked up to an IV, she’ll tell me to pop a Tamiflu and some Sudafed and get my ass to church.”
“What about makeup? Can’t you…I don’t know…cover it up?”
“I’ve tried. I can get it to look almost natural, but almost won’t be good enough for Ella. You know she’s gonna be inspecting her bridesmaids before she lets us in front of the photographer. And even the strongest fixing mist isn’t going to stop Bridezilla and a bottle of makeup remover.”
“Wear a sweater.”
“Are you kidding me? She’d rip it off. You saw how she went after my shirt today.”
Desperation forced him to consider anything. “Maybe if you talked to her about it…”
“It’s okay to say no.” She crossed her arms over her chest and stared him down, blue eye flashing an unmistakable message. You don’t have the balls to take me on. “I’m sure you have better things to do.”
Damn right he did. Except that, with Liv in front of him, he couldn’t think of a single one of them. “I…uh…”
He’d given her exactly the opening she needed, but instead of taking him down, her arms fell to her side, like she was the one on the verge of surrender. “I know you’re not my biggest fan. You never liked to be around me. Not even when we were kids.”
“That’s not true.”
“It’s okay. It’s not like it’s breaking news. I don’t know why I even bothered asking you for help.” She turned away, but not before he caught the rapid blink-blink-blink that warned of impending tears.
Aw, no. Anything but that.
“No big deal. I’ll find a way to open my shop. It’ll take a little longer, that’s all.” Her tone was breezy, but there was no mistaking the hurt underneath it. And it wasn’t just about the loan she stood to lose. It was about him. She thought he didn’t want to be her friend.
“Livvy.” She still had her back to him, and he couldn’t stand it. He needed her eyes. “Look at me.”
She didn’t move.
“Please.”
Finally, she turned toward him. But that was worse. Because he couldn’t fool himself into thinking that sheen of moisture in her eyes was anything but tears.
His chest went tight. Liv didn’t cry. Not when she fell off her bike when she was five, fracturing her thumb. Not when Matt spilled paint all over the prom dress she’d spent the weekend sewing. Not even when that waste of space Bennett Rasmussen stood her up for the dance. But she was crying now.
He’d made her lips tremble and the light go out of her eyes, and he had to fix it. “I’ll do it, okay? I’ll be your boyfriend. Fake boyfriend.”
“No!” She swiped a hand across her eyes, removing all evidence of her tears in a single pass. “I’m fine.”
“I want to help.”
“No. You don’t.”
He sighed. “I’m sharing a room with the world’s creepiest collection of Barbies. And, I
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