That's How it Happens

23. The Mannequin has Landed

Ainsley was a master at avoidance. All morning, she'd zigzagged through her mother's house like a soap opera spy – ducking behind floral arrangements, pretending to care about Liv's vlog, and fake-laughing into her own voicemail every time Leo walked in. When all else failed, she fled to the bathroom—her last line of defense.

Leo had definitely caught on. He'd stopped reacting to her fake calls and started giving her that look – the one that said, I know what you're doing, and I'm letting you do it-for now. It wasn't subtle, and now he probably thought she had IBS. She cringed. Fine. Let him, she decided.

She wasn't ready to talk. Not about the kiss. Not about the second one. Not about the way her hand wandered like it had its own agenda. And definitely not about how his arms had wrapped around her like they belonged there. That kiss – the one she thought belonged to the stranger – had been his. And it had been better.

Which was the problem.

They were friends. Best friends. And now there was a wedge between them, and she wasn't ready to name it.

But that confrontation could wait. Forever, if she had any say. She had another one queued up.

She turned down the hall and pushed open the door to her father's study. Liv sat perched on the edge of a leather chair like it might stain her soul.

"There you are! I've been in here for hours."

"No, you haven't."

"Well, it felt like it. Why are we in here? It smells like old books and... dust."

"You'll survive," Ainsley said, shutting the door. "You told me you and Rachel drifted apart. That she was jealous. Did you forget to mention you stole her boyfriend?"

Liv's eyes widened – barely – before she slipped into the practiced RBF their mother had perfected. Ainsley crossed her arms.

"I had a little chat with Rachel," she added. "While I was running your errands."

Technically, she'd been meeting up with Peter to discuss the pitch. Just another item on her growing list of emotional landmines.

Liv inspected her nails. Shrugged. "What can I say? When you know, you know."

"Seriously? That's your defense?"

Liv stood, smoothing her shirt like she was prepping for a press conference. "Not all of us have a man who'll rescue us from the streets and give us a second chance."

Ainsley blinked. "Excuse me?"

"April filled me in," Liv said, arms crossed.

"Of course, she did," Ainsley muttered. She'd deal with April later. Right now, Liv was the bigger problem. "So what - is this a thing now?"

"What?"

"Stealing boyfriends?"

Lif scoffed, pushing her perfectly manicured hair out of her face even though not a single strand was out of place. "Are you really still mad about Peter?"

"We were getting married, Liv. The next day."

A beat passed. Liv tilted her head. "Looks like I did you a favor."

Ainsley's jaw dropped. A favor? Part of her agreed – If Peter was willing to sleep with her sister, what else was he capable of? But another part of her still clung to the version of him she thought she knew. She swallowed down the bile rising from that memory.

"He said you drugged him," she said through clenched teeth. It was the lamest excuse she'd ever heard – but after her conversation with Rachel, Liv was capable of anything.