Page 98 of Pucking Grey

“Yeah, it’s not fake anymore. I think I’m falling in love with him.”

“What!” Ryan scoffs. “Maddie,” he scolds. “What do you mean?”

“We’re together,” I muster the courage to say. “He’s my real boyfriend now. And I thought you should know.”

“And you’re falling for him?”

“Oh, did I say that?” I ask, dying on the inside. It felt better saying it rather than hearing it repeated back to me. “Yeah. I am.” I squeeze my eyes shut.

I think Ryan stopped running because I don’t hear anything anymore. “Wow, uh, I don’t know what to say.”

“Maybe just say that you’re happy for me?”

He lightly chuckles. “Right. Yeah, I am happy for you, Maddie. As long as you’re happy and you had a long talk with him. I don’t like his reputation. I don’t trust him.”

“I know, but do you trust me?” I ask because I know the answer.

“Yes,” Ryan answers.

“Okay, well, I trust him. I truly don’t think I have anything to worry about. He’s changing. College is almost over, and he’s taking things more seriously. I think he’s maturing since you’ve known him.”

“I hope so. I mean, it sounds like it. So, did you tell dad?”

I shake my head. “No, I’m going to call him next.”

“He might be at work already, but you can catch him before he’s on the clock.”

“Do you think he’ll be upset?”

Ryan takes a moment to think. “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

“Okay, thank you, Ryan. I’ll talk to you later.”

I hear Addison in the back. “Bye, Maddie.”

“Love you. Bye,” Ryan says.

“Bye, Baddie. Love you, Ry. Bye.”

I hang up the phone and dial my dad. The line rings twice and my dad’s voice is on the other end.

“Madlibs, hit me with it,” he answers the call.

I subtly sigh. He’s always so straight to the point. “Hi, dad. Busy?”

“Nope.”

“Okay,” I say. “Well, I was calling to tell you something.”

“Yeah,” he mutters like this phone call needs to be quick.

I almost stutter and then I fix my posture. “So, Greyson Cress,” I say and then a figure at the top of my stairs catches my attention.

Grey leans against the railing without a shirt on. His fingers fold together as he watches me. I shoot my eyes to our coffee, hating that I have to have this conversation in front of him now.

“What about him?” my dad says, reminding me that I need to finish my sentence.

“Oh, right. Yeah, well, you see, it’s kind of a funny story.”

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