Page 41 of Call You Mine
I was planning on talking to him during our shift tomorrow, and thought I would have more time to practice my cover story.
When I told Ava that Jack knew we weren’t together, I thought I blew this whole thing. I didn’t want to have to explain to her that he knows because I’ve been pining over her like a lovesick loser—agreeing to marry her without a second thought because I’m coming to the conclusion that I will do anything and everything if it means she’ll keep me in her life—and he has been in the front row to all of it.
I just hope the story I have planned—that I told Ava how I feel and she admitted she feels the same—is enough to convince him for now. It’s flimsy at best, but I’m leaning on Ava’s logic, hoping that when we tell our friends on Saturday about getting married, the shock of it all will distract from the shaky timeline and sloppy reasoning of our “relationship”.
“Hello?” I answer, holding the phone between my cheek and shoulder as I pour the strained pasta into the pan where the sauce is simmering.
“Anderson?”
That’s not Jack’s voice.
“Rumi? Is everything okay?” It’s immediate, automatic—my body going tight and alert the way it does when we get a call at the station, that low hum of adrenaline settling in my chest. Fear that gets pushed aside by the familiar weight of responsibility, settling over me before I even make the conscious decision to let it. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, sorry! Nothing’s wrong,” she quickly says, knowing from Jack how we first responders can jump to the worst conclusions at the drop of a hat. “I couldn’t find my phone, and Jack’s was right here next to me.”
My lungs can take in a whole breath, my adrenaline subsiding as I exhale. “What’s up?”
“Ava called me today to fill me in on all the custody stuff with Georgie, and she mentioned they had plans with you tonight.” There’s no question, but the way her tone changes when she says “tonight” leads me to believe that she’s calling to do more than just ask me about my Monday night plans.
“Um, yeah,” I swallow, stirring the pasta with a wooden spoon. Ava and Georgie are coming over because Ava and I have a lot of details and logistics to discuss, but I don’t know what she told Rumi, and I don’t want to contradict anything. “We’re just hanging out.”
Vague enough to appease her, but not too vague that she gets suspicious.
Fuck. This whole fake marriage is going to be even harder than I thought.
“Is that like hanging out as friends, or?” she asks, and I can hear the smile in her voice, can almost see the mischief in her weirdly blue eyes. “From what I heard, you two don’t usually meet when the sun is up.”
“It’s past five in February, Rumi. And we live in Wisconsin. There is no sun up right now.”
She laughs—it’s warm and sincere, and it makes me smile. “I’m just surprised, is all. Especially because she’s bringing Georgie. That sounds big for our girl.”
Rumi knows better than anyone how Ava is a commitment-phobe, and, from where she’s sitting right now, I’m sure Ava bringing her sister to my house seems out of character. But I’m glad she’s excited about it, not suspicious.
Suspicion is what I thought we’d be met with at every corner.
But maybe I’m just paranoid.
A dry chuckle escapes my throat. “What did Ava tell you?” I ask, hoping I hide my nerves behind what I hope comes across as light and teasing.
“Basically nothing. That’s why I’m calling you.”
“Sorry, Ru-Ru. You’re not going to get anything from me either.” I imagine her eyes rolling, but I don’t know what else to tell her before talking to Ava.
Before she can ask me more about it, I change the subject, figuring now could be my opportunity to talk to Jack. “By the way, is your boyfriend there? I need to talk to him about—” I pause, “work.”
“Work?” Rumi repeats, but she says the word as if she’s never heard it before. “Yeah, he’s right here, but don’t think you and Ava can keep hiding whatever it is you two are keeping a secret from us. You’re lucky you’re dealing with me and not Emerson. You know how she is,” she adds after a moment, and I realize I’ve been holding my breath.
Pretending to be Ava’s partner? Easy. I’ve been wanting that title for months now. There will be no pretending about it for me.
But lying to our friends?
Rumi is already on to us, which means so is Emerson—and she’s the queen of calling people out the second she smells bullshit.
It’s not that I think they don’t want us together—Rumi makes it sound like she’s been rooting for it since day one—but I wish we could have gone about this the right way.
That I had the balls to tell Ava how I felt months ago, even with the risk that she wouldn't want anything more than our friends-with-benefits arrangement, and that we really have been together all this time.
And that I asked her to marry me the way she deserved, when the time was right.
