Page 65 of Real Tree / Fake Boyfriend

Like he was some fucking comic book villain.

Julien quickly texted him back and told him that the snow was too bad and he wouldn’t make it in time. But he promised to go first thing in the morning after the roads were plowed.

“Brad, please don’t tell anyone about this, especially not Tyler. I want to pay them and get this over with.”

“Don’t worry about that. I won’t say a word,”Brad vowed.

Julien felt a wave of nausea hit him when his phone buzzed. He looked at the text, and sure enough, Rossi had texted him again.

We had a deal.

He put his phone away and shook away the chill he felt. Maybe he could borrow or steal one of the cars parked in the driveway. However, when he got downstairs, everyone was gathered around, setting the table for dinner, and the blanket of snow outside had gotten so high that it pressed against the sliding glass door at almost knee height.

“Julien, can you help Tyler with the napkins?” Mrs. Ashford said. She offered him a narrow-eyed look that Julien couldn’t parse but turned away and tapped her future son-in-law on the shoulder. “Wally, can you let Duke out back? He keeps scratching at the door.”

Tyler gave Julien a weak smile when he handed him the napkins. “Sorry you are stuck here again,” he mumbled.

Julien glanced at the clock, and time seemed to move too fast. “It’s fine.”

“I told my mom the truth,” Tyler whispered while they folded the cloth napkins and placed them underneath the cutlery. “About our deal. We don’t have to keep pretending anymore. I know it’s all fake.”

That was the problem though, because, despite constant reminders, Julien didn’t feel like they had been pretending. Now, however, the jig was up in so many ways. He didn’t think there would be a chance to put everything back together now that it had blown up in his face.

“Then there’s no reason for me to stay.”

He hated the look of hurt on Tyler’s face. He wanted to reach out, take his chin between his fingers, kiss the frown away, hold the smaller man in his arms, and tell him how much he cared about him.

He couldn’t, not anymore. Not with his literal life hanging in the balance.

When he returned to Pittsburgh and cleaned up the ashes of his life, maybe they could move forward. Perhaps he could text Tyler and ask him out. He doubted he would stand a chance, not after this, but he had toprioritize.

“Right.” Tyler clearly wanted to say much more but didn’t.

Julien would have paid any money to know what was on his mind.

By the time they finished setting the table, Hailey had taken out the food and set it up on serving dishes. Mr. Ashford talked loudly about the wine he picked for the night, and Wally sipped it with his future father-in-law.

The scene seemed so natural, like Julien’s life wasn’t crashing down around him.

Julien looked at the clock again. It was six o’clock. He checked his phone. Rossi hadn’t texted him.

The Ashfords all started to sit for dinner, and Julien knew he only had one choice. “I’m heading out for a smoke,” he told Tyler as he passed him to go to the table.

Jules looked at Tyler for a long moment, wishing he could tell him how sorry he was, but he had to go.

“Fine.” Tyler turned his head away.

Across the table, Brad caught Julien’s eye and gave the slightest nod as if he could somehow read Julien’s mind the way the Ashford siblings did.

With stealth, Julien walked to his bag in the hall, took out the money, stuck it in his wallet, and then grabbed a pack of cigarettes. He stepped into the garage and took the keys to Walter’s car off the hook. Then he slipped outside. He silently apologized to Walter but vowed to return the vehicle in one piece.

With one last glance over his shoulders, he went out the garage door and trudged through over a foot of snow to get to the car in the driveway.

Duke barked somewhere in the backyard. Julien unlocked the car, and the lights came on. He was about to slide into the front seat when he realized it wasn’t the only pair of headlights in the driveway.

The other car turned off, and the door opened. “There you are, Jules,” came Tony Rossi’s smug voice.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Julien asked, unable to stop himself from looking back to the housewhere the Ashfords were probably starting to eat, oblivious to the danger at their doorstep.

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