Although he’s only four years older than me, he seems wiser. Maybe it’s the life he’s lived, traveling, living in different places, his experiences in the music industry. Unlike me, who’s always lived in Everton besides my four years at college, and always been protected. I wouldn’t say I was, am, sheltered exactly, but I’ve limited myself, so I could be the doting daughter.
“I know. It’s just… complicated,” I add, unsure of how else to describe it. Maybe I have past-life guilt. I could have done something to my parents in a past life, and now I’m making up for it.
He nods and takes a drink of his beer. “Anything else I need to know before Saturday?”
“I think we’ve covered it all. I told my mom our relationship is new, so if we don’t know everything about each other, it will seem normal.”
“How long after do you want to keep this up?”
I roll my lips in between my teeth and bite down. “A few weeks? Enough time that we can ‘break up’”—I’m not sure why I use air quotes if he knows it’s a fake breakup—“and give me the excuse to tell my dad I’m not ready for another relationship just yet and to give me time.”
“Okay.” He agrees though his scrutinizing eyes tell me he’s not saying everything he wants to.
He probably thinks I’m a joke for having to go to these lengths, so my father doesn’t try to set me up because I won’t tell him to stop his meddling. Even more of a joke that I can’t meet a man I’m interested in and my father has to do the dirty deed.
Averly’s long-standing advice rings in my ears. She thinks I need to stand up to my father, but I can’t. I don’t want to disappoint him. He and my mom have been through enough to have a daughter that causes them stress.
…
“How was your day?” Harris asks as we walk down Main Street on the way to the bowling alley. He called me after school finished to ask if I was free this evening. Of course, I was. My social life isn’t that exciting. “Any more questions about your boyfriend from your students?” Harris chuckles.
I frown and give him the stink eye, causing him to bellow with laughter. “Only teasing you.” He bumps his shoulder with mine.
“No more third degree from my students, thankfully.” I feel my face flush with heat. “It was a pretty normal day.” I smile and shrug. The world of teaching isn’t always full of excitement. Some days are just kind of boring.
“How about you?” I ask.
“It was good. Worked on the label. We’re still getting our footing, so some days the work is crazier than others.”
“I think it’s so cool,” I comment.
Harris looks over at me with a smile, the sinking sun creating a halo behind him. “It’s a dream come true.”
I take him in as his features are illuminated by the sun, his blue eyes peaceful and carefree. Sighing, I fantasize about being on a real date right now instead of some set-up to convince the town we’re really in a relationship. I wish Harris and I would’ve met in a different situation and just hit it off like so many couples do instead of just pretending. This is all this is, a plan to show people we’re together before our official appearance at the ball, but sometimes a girl just wants a guy to take a real interest in her.
“That’s great,” I say, averting his eyes and catching a woman looking at us with raised eyebrows before she leans in and whispers something to her friend. I smile and wave, internally rolling my eyes at their embarrassment when they’ve been caught.
“Don’t look, but we’re being talked about.”
Harris turns his head to find the culprits, and I smack his shoulder. “I told you not to look,” I hiss.
“Ow.” He rubs his arm with scrunched eyebrows. “You can’t tell me not to look and expect me to listen. It’s the most effective reverse psychology.”
I giggle and shrug. “Sorry.”
“God, you have a good slappin’ arm.” Harris shakes his head, and I laugh even harder.
“I really am sorry.” I cringe and rub his arm. We both stop walking, my eyes connecting with his.
“It’s okay.” Harris places his hand over mine to stop it from moving, the sensation heating my skin. He clears his throat, and I remove my hand.
“Anyway, part of the reason we’re out is so people see us together, right?” He questions with a raised eyebrow.
“Yup, you’re totally right.” A tight smile spreads my lips, and I continue walking toward the bowling alley.
This is awkward. I’m hanging out with a guy I barely know, who I’m supposed to know really well. It’s like a tongue twister. Actually, that’s a pretty accurate description of my life at the moment.
I study Harris out of the corner of my eye, trying to come up with something to say.
“Are—”
“You—”
We both speak at the same time, and I giggle nervously.
“Go ahead,” Harris nods with an easy smile.
“No, you go. I was just trying to fill the awkward silence,” I admit.
He chuckles and shakes his head, draping his arm around me. I tense momentarily before relaxing into him.
Do I put my arm around his waist or not?
I can’t seem scared or awkward because Harris touches me, or people will know we’re lying. Patrick already doesn’t believe us, and there’s no need to fuel that doubt.
“Are you any good at bowling?” Harris smirks.
“No,” I chuckle. “I’m terrible at it, but it’s still so much fun.”
“It’s good to have fun, a lot more important than the competition.” Harris moves his arm from my shoulder to open the door to the bowling alley. As soon as we walk in, every set of eyes turns to us. All of them curiously framed with raised eyebrows.
“Gotta love the element of surprise,” Harris leans down and whispers in my ear.
I giggle and snort, instantly hiding my face in my hands when Harris laughs. “That was cute.” He taps me with his elbow before reaching for my hands and exposing my flushed face.
Lacing our fingers together, he guides us to the counter. People look at our tangled hands, others whisper as they eye us. If we wanted to make a statement, we’re definitely making one.
After we get settled in a lane and our ridiculous bowling shoes on, Harris claps his hands and smirks. “You go first.”
“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I grab a bowling ball and stand in front of the lane, ready to bowl. I swing my arm back and then forward, releasing the ball as it rolls to the side and knocks down one pin. I turn around with a grimace to get the second ball.
“That’s okay,” Harris encourages me.
I bowl again, the ball going into the gutter. “Told you I wasn’t good.”
“Nah,” Harris shakes his head, getting ready to bowl. I watch him as he takes a few steps before releasing the ball, moving in an almost straight line, and getting a strike.
“I thought you said you were bad?” I cross my arms.
“No, I said it was more important to have fun than be competitive.”
“You’re going to make me look bad,” I huff and roll my eyes playfully. “The mayor’s daughter cannot lose to the new guy in town.” I pick up a ball and stand in place.
“Here, let me help you.” Harris stands behind me, holding the arm that has the ball. He helps me swing my arm back as I get ready to bowl. All I feel, though, is his closeness. Why does he feel so good? Peeking over my shoulder, I catch a glimpse of him. He’s so handsome.
Turning back to the lane in front of me, I close my eyes and bowl with his help, peeking with one eye as I watch the ball roll down the lane and hit more pins than my first try.
“Much better.” Harris slaps my hand in a high-five. “We make a good team.” His comment makes my stomach flip. Looking around, I notice some people are still taking an interest in our date.
“Yeah,” I nod.
We continue to take turns bowling, Harris kicking my butt big time.
“Do you want somet
hing to drink?” Harris asks before I have another turn.
“A pop would be great, please.”
“Pop.” He shakes his head and chuckles. “Still getting used to that.”
“What do you say?” I cock my head and look at him with curiosity.
“Coke.” Harris shrugs as if it were obvious.
“What if you’re not drinking Coke?” I furrow my eyebrows. Obviously, coke isn’t the only drink that exists.
“I don’t know, it’s all known.” He shakes his head, but his eyes ping-pong as if he’s mulling over my question. “What about you? If you say pop, how do they know what you’re drinking?”
“They just do,” I shrug, giving him the same answer.
“We’re getting nowhere with this, huh?” he chuckles.
“Clearly not.” I shake my head. “Coca-Cola will be perfect,” I emphasize the brand name.
Harris smirks and nods. “Be right back.”
While Harris orders our drinks, I focus on the pins. My tongue peeks out the side from between my lips. I’m going to get you, bad boys. I narrow my eyes, trying to perfect my aim when I really have no idea what I’m doing.
Taking a deep breath, I bowl as I put all my energy into it. The sound of the pins knocking over echoes all around me, and I stare in shock. I got a strike. I turn around and jump up and down, finding Harris smiling at me.
“You did it.” He puts the drinks down on the table.
“I did!” I leap into his arms.
“Whoa.” He holds my waist.
“Oh, sorry,” I whisper. “I was just excited.”
“It’s okay.” His eyes are wide as they stare into mine. I give him a tight-lipped smile and step back, bunching my hair in my hands and twirling it all together.
“Oh, thanks.” I break up the embarrassing moment by reaching for the cup and taking a healthy chug of pop, cooling my insides.
My reaction forgotten, Harris and I finish our game before leaving the bowling alley and going to grab dinner at the burger place next door. Talking to him is natural, and it’s been fun just to sit back and enjoy myself. After a while, I don’t even care that some people are staring at us with curiosity. Spending time with Harris simply puts me at ease.
Harris
“I didn’t know you knew Poppy Powell.” Axel, Knox’s brother, says as he grabs the beer the bartender places for him on the bar at Clarke’s.
“It’s a long story.” I look at Knox, who hides his smile.
“Word around town is you two are an item. Everyone is curious how you snatched up one of Everton’s most eligible bachelorettes,” Axel continues.
“Most eligible bachelorettes?” I cock an eyebrow.
“Yeah, the guys in town have a long-standing competition to see who could win her over. Seems as she hasn’t been in a relationship in years and turns down every offer for a date.”
“It’s disgusting.” This from Lia, Axel’s girlfriend.
I nod. No wonder Poppy is so set on not dating anyone. If she even suspects that she’s the eyed prize of an ego trip, that would be a cause in itself to keep her distance. The thought of anyone thinking about Poppy that way makes my blood boil. How can anyone think it’s okay to play with another person’s emotions like this? Thankfully, she seems smart.
She’s also kind, funny, and a little awkward, but that adds to her charm. Talking to her these last few days has been fun. It’s crazy how quickly we got pulled into the rumors in this town, but that was the first thing Knox warned me about when I told him I wanted to live here.
The move made sense. I hate traveling back and forth. Everton and its surrounding area also offer a more natural way of living. There’s something about this place that makes me want to plant roots here, something I’ve never done. Since college, I’ve moved around—Knoxville, Nashville, Los Angeles. But even while having homes in these three cities, I had to travel for tours with Knox and international events.
Everton puts life into perspective. It slows down and gives me the chance to appreciate other things.
“How could people do that?” Ainsley speaks aloud my own thoughts.
“Because some people have nothing better to do with their lives.” Lia rolls her eyes.
“Didn’t miss that while I was living away,” Knox comments.
“But you’re glad you’re here now because you met me,” Ainsley beams, leaning into him. Those two. I shake my head.
“Speak of the devil,” Axel says with his beer bottle right below his lips, his half-hidden chin jutting somewhere in front of him. I turn from the bar to see what he’s pointing out. Actually, it’s a who.
Poppy is with a small group of friends, one of them I recognize as Averly. She’s smiling as she discusses something with them.
“But wait, are you two really an item?” Lia narrows her eyes.
I shrug. I don’t want everyone to know Poppy’s plan, but I also don’t want to lie to my friends.
“Harris Laverne Miller.”
My eyes widen, and I choke on my beer. “How did you?” I turn my head toward Axel, who’s trying to hold in his laughter.
“You bastard.” I shake my head.
“Sorry, buddy.”
Knox and Ainsley laugh next to me.
“You can’t tell anyone that’s my middle name,” I warn Lia, pointing a finger at her.
“How did you grow up with that?” She holds her stomach as she laughs.
“Ha, ha, ha,” I say, dryly. “It wasn’t fun, that’s for sure.” The name-calling was a pain in the ass growing up. It’s a wonder I don’t suffer from deep-seated insecurities and permanent wedgie marks. I got everything from, Laverne, where’s your Shirley? to Your momma shoulda named you Gaylord Laverne Miller.
Kids are assholes. I got that one back by kissing his girlfriend, though. Then, he gave me a black eye. Not all revenge is sweet.
This is the reason I sympathized with Poppy when she said kids would make fun of her initials.
“Promise you won’t tell anyone,” I plead with Lia.
“Scouts honor.” She stands straight, saluting me. “Oh, it looks like someone’s trying to sneak in on your girlfriend.”
I look back at Poppy, and sure enough, Patrick is talking to her. Poppy crosses her arms, eyes glaring, and nostrils flared. This guy doesn’t get it. After hearing what Axel said, I’d bet Patrick’s the first one racing to win Poppy. I have a feeling he has more than a proud ego at stake.
“What’s the deal with that guy?” I look at Axel, arms crossed, and feet firmly on the floor. He’s always lived here, so he should know more about Patrick than Knox did.
“He’s a first-class asshole. Few people in town care for him, yet he sticks around, acting like he runs this place.”
“He was always a snobby pain in the ass,” Lia adds.
“What did he do?” I don’t understand how someone stays in this town when so many people dislike him.
“He’s just that kinda guy who only cares about himself,” Lia explains.
“And he did that one thing.” Axel looks at her, his frown and eyes serious.
“What?” I lean forward.
“That’s not our story to tell.” Lia shrugs with a tight-lipped smile.
I sigh and look at Poppy again. Patrick is still trying to talk to her. When his hand lands on her arm, a part of me gets protective, wanting to keep him far away from her. It’s not my responsibility, but seeing as I’m playing her boyfriend for the next few days, weeks, I could keep him away from her.
I turn to the bar, wave down the bartender with a ten-dollar bill, and order the same wine Poppy drank the other night when we came here.
Wine and fresh beer in hand, I weave through the crowd, excusing myself as I bump into someone on the way to Poppy.
“Here you go, babe.” I smile wide, handing her the glass. Her eyes widen, but she quickly schools her features, a beautiful smile lighting up her face.
“Thanks.”
I swing my arm aro
und her, facing Patrick. “Hey, Peter, right?” I point to him with the neck of my beer bottle. Poppy suppresses a giggle.
“Patrick,” he says between clenched teeth.
“That’s right. Good to see you again.” I pull Poppy into my side, her flowery perfume hitting me. I inhale deeper to get a fill of her sweet scent, the same as the night we went bowling.
“Anyway, we can talk later,” Patrick finishes off.
Poppy tenses and shakes her head. “I’ve been clear.”
“Sorry, buddy, but she’s taken.” I shrug, swallowing the sip of beer. I spot Poppy’s friends looking at me with smiles.
Patrick says something under his breath and turns to leave, his shoulders tense.
“Thanks,” Poppy exhales, looking at me.
“What are fake boyfriends for?”
“Shhh…” she hits my shoulder. “Even the glasses have ears in this town,” she whispers.
I chuckle. “Sorry.”
“Anyway, you’re a lifesaver. I’ve already told you that, right? Yeah, that bad Titanic joke.” She shakes her head and diverts my eyes, a light pink color shading her cheeks.
“Yup.”
“Soooo…” She looks around, seemingly spotting my friends at the bar. “Oh, man. You’re busy. You didn’t have to come over here.”
“Now what kind of boyfriend would people in this town think I am if I were in the same bar as my girlfriend and not spending time with her?”
“This is more complicated than I originally thought,” she whispers.
“Just play along,” I lean in and whisper. Poppy shivers and tries to hide it by gulping her wine.
“Ladies,” I turn to her friends. “I’m going to borrow her for a bit.” I wink and smile. The three women stare at me in surprise. I’m assuming they haven’t had a chance to question Poppy properly. Averly simply winks at me with a wide, approving grin.
I release Poppy’s shoulder and reach for her hand, guiding her through the crowd and toward my friends.
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