Page 15 of Fake It Til You Break It

“Yes, but I never would have had the courage if you hadn’t believed in me, Mr. R.”

“I’ll always believe in you, but it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.”

Sage words. Too bad he couldn’t seem to apply them to his own life.

“I have to believe in myself,” she recited, a proud smile curving her lips. “And I do, but I’m still going to thank you, and you can’t stop me.”

Oh, I liked this kid. Clearly, she had found her voice, and it was filled with fire.

Rather than dispute her further, Jasper chuckled and lightly cuffed the side of her head. “In that case—” He retrieved his copy of her book from the table and held it up. “—I would be honored if you’d sign this for me.”

As she scrawled her name across the title page with an artistic flourish, I couldn’t help but compare their exchange with previous conversations I’d witnessed. Rather than stilted and careful, it had been full of mutual respect and affection.

Though a mere bystander, I still, somehow, felt included in the moment, and it made me realize two very important things. First, Jasper radiated pure, unconditional love that encompassed everyone in his vicinity.

Secondly, and more importantly, if I was lucky, one day, he might look at me that way too.

five

~ Jasper ~

AlthoughIdidn’thaveany events on the calendar, I found myself in the company of my plus-one nearly every day of the following week.

My schedule didn’t allow me to spend as much time at SafeHouse as I would have liked, but I tried to be there as often as I could. And so, it seemed, did Beckett.

No one, including Beckett, had informed me that he’d applied to be a volunteer, but all of his paperwork was in the system, including the extensive background check. As long as they met the qualifications, I welcomed any help I could get, but the fact that he had started the process before we had officially met surprised me.

Throughout the week, I had watched him de-escalate a potential altercation on the basketball court like a seasoned pro. I’d seen him convince a shy teenage girl to try out for captain of her cheer squad. Much to my amusement, I had also witnessed him fend off clumsy and awkward attempts at flirting with clear boundaries and mild panic.

He’d scaled a tree to rescue a wayward frisbee. He had helped prepare meals for the center’s Taco Tuesday social—an outreach event to encourage the community to become more involved. That same night, he had also instigated a food fight on the south lawn, which had resulted in me spending the next two days trying to wash mashed avocado out of my hair.

Everyone had found it hilarious, including the visitors, and we had actually received more volunteer applications than ever before. So, while I had lectured him, my heart hadn’t really been in it, and we had both known it.

By Friday evening, he had become such a fixture at the mansion that I didn’t even question why he was hanging out in my office after everyone else had gone home. Then again, ever since the bookstore, I no longer felt uneasy having him in my space.

Rather, it felt like he belonged there.

While I finished some executive tasks at my desk, Beckett sat on the sofa, organizing boxes of donated books by genre and reading level. Apart from the occasional question about a particular title, we didn’t talk. Still, I found his presence comforting, and he added a warmth to the room that had nothing to do with the temperature.

“So, you said this was your parents’ place,” he said hours later when we were both winding up our individual tasks. “Did you grow up here?”

Looking up from my laptop, I gave him my full attention. “No. I had already moved out on my own when they bought the house.”

A frown tugged at his lips, and he dragged his fingers through his hair, causing it to stand out in disarray. “No offense, but I just can’t wrap my head around it. Why would they need all this space?”

“No offense taken. It’s a fair question.” And one for which I didn’t have a particularly good answer. “I’m not sure what they intended to do with the property, but they never lived here.”

“Okay, you have my attention.”

I swiveled around to face him fully and leaned back in my desk chair with a quiet chuckle. “There’s not much to tell, I’m afraid. I didn’t even know about this house until after they died. Their attorney didn’t know why they’d purchased it, either.”

“Makes sense.” He moved to the edge of the cushions and bobbed his head thoughtfully. “These big old houses always have skeletons in the closet.”

“Are you always this dramatic?” I teased. It was a mystery, sure, but not some plot to a Nancy Drew novel. “This house isn’t that old, either. It was built in the nineties.”

“Practically ancient.”

It sounded like something one of the kids would say, and he looked so serious I couldn’t help but laugh. “You are incorrigible.”

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