Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
In a way it was almost scarier than the hookup from last night had been. This was something I could truly get used to, a smoldering warmth that felt like it could last forever.
This was what I wanted, and what I’d never have. But for tonight, I let myself sink into it, falling asleep with my body entwined in his.
The next few days passed and my situation only got worse. Or better, depending on how I looked at it.
Rock wanted to cuddle with me every night.
We didn’t hook up again. We didn’t get drunk, have wild parties, or “experiment.” Instead, before I knew it, we were acting like a true couple who were deeply in love, coming up to bed each night just wanting to hold each other.
Rock was a perfect fake boyfriend all day long, every day, and I tried my damnedest not to fall completely head-over-heels for him.
Everything got to me. The smaller things he did that nobody else seemed to notice. The way he always held open doors for people, or pulled out chairs when they were approaching. The way his eyes always gravitated toward any source of flame—candles, fireplaces—like he was both fascinated and terrified by fire.
Rock always seemed to find his way back to me, even when there was no reason to. At dinner the following night, my cousin Henry took the seat near me, but by the end of the meal, Rock had brought a chair up behind us, making conversation with Henry about different types of whiskey.
Everything had seemed terrifying and urgent at the beginning of the reunion, but I watched the rest of the week slip by like water from my hands.
Now it was the second-to-last day of the reunion, and I was so used to Rock being my boyfriend that I couldn’t imagine life any other way.
I sat out in the courtyard looking over at Rock across the lawn. This morning I’d woken up with him spooning me from behind. A late lunch had been served, and now people had scattered, some people heading back inside, some hanging out here. Cam and I were alone on a bench by the bar and Rock was still over at the table where we’d eaten, chatting with Mom about movies.
I wanted to tell Cam. Every second that I spoke with him, I felt like I was on the brink of blurting out every little detail about the fake relationship. It was like trying to hold back a stampede with a flimsy plastic gate.
Instead, I avoided the subject of Rock entirely.
“This weather is really amazing,” I said. “It’s cloudy. But the clouds aren’t everywhere. I love those little puffy ones. They look like cotton balls, don’t they? Even fluffier, actually.”
Cam gave me a look. My little brother was allergic to bullshit, and it was one of my favorite things about him. Usually.
“Yes, Per,” he said. “The weather is nice.”
“But really nice,” I said, already knowing I was digging myself into a deeper hole.
Cam chuckled. “All right, what’s actually on your mind?”
I froze like a deer in headlights. “What? Nothing.”
“Just tell me. I know you’re going to,” he said.
I pulled in a deep breath. “There really isn’t much of anything,” I said. Lying to my brother didn’t feel good. I promised myself that long in the future, when he wasn’t upset about his crumbling marriage, I would tell him everything. But it couldn’t be today. It couldn’t be now.
“Is she smoking?” Cam suddenly said, furrowing his brow and sitting up straighter in his chair. He was looking over at Rachel, who was accepting a cigarette from Lilly underneath a big oak tree. Lilly lit it for her.
“Looks like yes,” I said.
“Rachel doesn’t smoke,” Cam said, his gaze bewildered. “She always said they smell like cinder. The kids can’t see her doing this.”
I was secretly glad for the change in subject, but it definitely was strange that Rachel was acting so out of character.
“The kids are all way over there behind a gazebo,” I said, nodding in the opposite direction. “It should be okay.”
Cam sat back a little, shaking his head. “So many years. You think you know a person. Sometimes I feel like I never knew my wife at all.”
My heart ached for him.
“Are you doing okay, Cameron?” I asked him. “Really.”
He shook his head. “Not exactly. But I’m trying. Y’know?”
I nodded. “I know there isn’t going to be any quick fix.”
“Definitely not. I think I might just be alone and celibate for the rest of my life, actually.”
I snorted. “Yeah, right. You’re still young. You’re an eligible bachelor. I bet dozens of women are going to be knocking at your door the moment they find out you’re on the market.”
He rolled his eyes. “God, I can’t even think about that. The idea of dating sounds like a shitshow.”