Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 41373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 207(@200wpm)___ 165(@250wpm)___ 138(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 207(@200wpm)___ 165(@250wpm)___ 138(@300wpm)
“Already doing it,” he said, waving a hand. “Do you like the blue or the clear ones better?”
“Blue’s nice, I suppose, but you really don’t have to.”
He got the cups even though I felt like I didn’t quite deserve the generosity, and he handed me the little bag afterward.
“My gift to you,” he said. “We still have to edit our video and send it off, too.”
And I still have to ask you if you’ll be my fake boyfriend again for a whole different reason.
I bit the inside of my cheek. “We should do that soon.”
“You could come over tonight,” he said. “I’ll text you my address.”
I cleared my throat, shifting on my feet. “Sounds good,” I told Rowen.
“What’s up, Shane?” he asked me, narrowing his eyes. “You’re acting a little on edge.”
I’d never been much good at hiding anything.
“I’m fine.”
“Can’t bullshit me, unfortunately,” he said. “Are you okay?”
“Okay, don’t hate me when I say this,” I told him, and I saw a spark of intrigue in his eyes.
“Oh, this is going to be good,” he said. “Lay it on me.”
I pulled in a breath. “I may or may not have told my family this morning that… that I was seeing someone.”
His expression softened for a moment, and he looked surprised. “You’re seeing someone?”
My heart squeezed. Rowen seemed so genuinely shocked, and maybe even a little bit jealous, at the idea of me seeing someone.
That was something I hadn’t expected.
“No, no,” I corrected him. “I’m not actually seeing anyone. That’s kind of the point.”
Realization dawned on him. “I see. You made up an oh-shit boyfriend.”
“What’s that?”
“I’ve done it before,” he told me. “You have an oh-shit panic moment and tell people you’re in a relationship, hoping they won’t ask you more about it.”
I let out a slow breath. “Yes. Exactly.”
Rowen glanced behind me at my family. “I’m starting to get it. Do they think I’m this mystery boyfriend?”
Heat bloomed in my cheeks. “I’m sorry, Rowen.”
He clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Shane, Shane, Shane,” he said. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Fuck. I’m really sorry.”
“You know they’re all looking over at us, right?”
I bit my lip. “Figured they were probably still staring. It’s been a while since I’ve dated anyone seriously, and my family are definitely curious people.”
“I get it. I am, too,” Rowen said. “Don’t sweat it, by the way. I don’t mind.”
“Are you sure?”
“Here,” he said, glancing one last time at them before moving in and closing the gap between us.
His lips were on mine a moment later.
It felt like a movie moment—him landing a sweet, slow kiss on me at the farmer’s market, while the holiday hustle and bustle swirled all around us. Rowen’s lips were soft on mine. It felt almost more intimate than our last kiss, even though it was gentle and sweet.
“Think this is helping?” he said as he broke off, giving me a little squeeze on my hip.
“It’s either helping or it’s making things a lot more complicated,” I said. “Thank you, Rowen.”
“My pleasure,” he said.
I still had no idea what I was going to do about the Christmas party, but that was for future me to figure out.
6
ROWEN
“It’s a disappointment,” my grandfather said as he set down his salad fork. My grandparents’ private cook swooped in, collecting the silverware and plate from the first course of our dinner. “Not talking about the food, of course, Bianca. This salad was very good, as usual.”
He had been in the middle of talking about my parents—he made sure to mention what a disappointment their behavior had been about once a day, at least. My grandparents were under the illusion that their staff had no idea that my parents were in prison, but I was pretty sure all of them had picked up on it by now from bits of conversations.
Moments later Bianca was back with the second course, a beautiful roast chicken with lemon and rosemary. Candles flickered at the center of the big, formal dining table, where they ate dinner every night.
“We’ll be speaking with your parents again tomorrow, though, dear,” my grandmother said as Bianca carved her a few pieces of chicken. “We’ll let them know you’re thinking of them.”
I’m thinking I wish I’d never known them at all, I thought, though that was something even I wouldn’t say with Bianca around.
Dinners with my grandparents were mostly like this. Quiet, stiff, and not exactly unpleasant, but certainly old-fashioned. They weren’t really feelings people, and they hadn’t been involved much in my life before my parents went to prison anyway. My grandfather talked about golf, and my grandmother talked about her knitting club and the charity work she did.
They were very nice old people. Even if they weren’t outwardly loving toward me, they’d provided me the only place I could stay when everything had gone to shit in New York. I was taken care of with food as well as spending cash, and I made sure to be extra kind with tips to all of their staff members each week.