Page 40 of The Stand-In Boyfriend

The house is dark and quiet, meaning she’s the only person around.

Guess I should have figured that one out.

Everything looks neat and tidy, and definitely girly. Light colors. Throw pillows on the couch. Coasters on the coffee table in the living room. Candles.

I move inside the living room, going to the bookshelf. There are some books there. A mix of romance novels and… are those horror novels? Sure looks like it. And photos. Lots of photos. Jessica in different stages of her life, from a toddler to the young woman I know, with an older version of herself who must be her mom. And then there are photos of her and Evie, some even of her, Evie and Liam. But none of her father. Is he out of the picture?

“Snooping around?”

I turn on the balls of my feet as soon as I hear her voice, feeling guilty at being caught. Her brows are raised as she looks at me, waiting for an answer.

“Just trying to figure out what makes you you.”

I want to ask her about the photos, about her dad, but I don’t think she’ll like it, and we’ve been doing so well these last few days. I don’t want to mess it up.

“Ready to go?”

* * *

“Whose place is this again?”

The field is full by the time we get to the party, so I just park my car in the first available space and call it a day. I can hope no drunken idiot will scratch it on the way out because my parents will kill me.

“One of the guys from the team. His family owns the land, but they said they’re cool with us using it.”

Up until last year, all the parties happened at Andrew Hill’s house, but since he graduated last spring, we already knew that we’d have to find a new place to party. This is definitely a good option, at least until it starts snowing.

I watch her as her wide eyes take everything in. “And you believe him?”

“Guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

I unlock my seatbelt but don’t hurry to get out. The only light illuminating the inside is the faint light of the bonfire from the distance. The party is already in full swing, with a dozen or so different cars and trucks parked in a circle around the bonfire. Somebody cranked up the music, because we can hear it all the way from here.

“Are you ready for this?”

Pretending in school is easy. Almost too easy. We both have different schedules and see each other during our one shared class and at lunch. Here people come to see and to be seen. They’ll look, and they’ll dissect every little thing we do.

Those dark eyes turn back to me and prickles of awareness come alive underneath my skin. Her pink lips taunt me even in the darkness. “As I’ll ever be.”

“Then let’s go.”

We get out of the car and meet at the hood. The music is louder here, the smell of burnt wood and hay filling the air.

I extend my hand toward her. Jessy looks at it for a second before placing her palm in mine. Her hand is warm, her skin slightly damp from nerves. I pull her closer, and she stumbles, her hand pressing against my chest for balance.

Leaning down, I move closer, so close my lips are practically pressed against her ear. “Relax. I can feel you overthinking everything.”

“Easy for you to say, you don’t have everything on the line.”

Just my redemption and sanity. Not that I’d ever say that out loud. She doesn’t need to know that shit.

Instead, I wrap my arm around her shoulder and pull her into my side and we walk toward the crowd gathered around the bonfire.

Heads start turning as we come closer. People cheer, calling my name and congratulating me on the win with pats on my shoulder as we pass by. Of course, there is another group of people that’s just staring at us, whispering. Jessy notices it all too, her body tensing under my arm. But that’s the only thing giving her away. Her chin is lifted, her eyes staring right back at whoever’s gawking.

I soothe my palm over hers, hoping it gives her reassurance.

A loud whistle spreads through the clearing and we turn around just in time to see one of my teammates falling down from a keg stand. He sways a little on his feet, but manages to find his balance without anybody’s help. The group of people around him cheers and catcalls, patting him on the shoulder and raising glasses to celebrate.

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