by Kennedy Fox
I couldn’t agree more, but I don’t admit it aloud. Leaving means our fake relationship is over, and everything we pushed aside these past three days will need to be dealt with head on.
“Honey, you two can come back anytime you want.” Mrs. Corrigan beams. I notice the twinkle in her eyes when she looks at Lennon and me. It’s easy to pretend this is real when everyone believes it so easily. If only our innocent lie was the truth.
“I’m sure we’ll be back,” I offer, and Lennon glances over at me.
“We’d like that,” Mr. Corrigan tells me.
We make small talk for the rest of the time, and when we’ve finished breakfast, Lennon and I go upstairs to pack. As soon as we step inside the bedroom, I notice a rogue tear spill from her cheek. Carefully, I study her, holding back the temptation to kiss away her tears.
But fuck, I want to.
“Pregnancy hormones, I think. And I’m not looking forward to the flight,” she explains.
I pull her into a hug, and I swear she breathes me in as she rests her head on my chest. We stand there until my vision blurs, and I know we have to get going. The less stress Lennon is under, the better.
After we pack, I swing my bag over my shoulder and grab her heavy suitcase. As I go to walk out of the room, Lennon reaches for me and pulls me close. I turn to her, feeling her breath brush against my skin. Instead of ruining the moment with words, I stare into her crystal blue eyes and wait.
“Hunter…” she says. Letting out a ragged breath, she pulls her bottom lip into her mouth, almost begging for me.
Considering this might be the last time I kiss her, I place my palms on her cheeks and pull her mouth closer. When our lips finally touch, the fireworks we watched on the Fourth of July cannot compare to what I feel. We’re lost in each other, falling then floating, in a reality where nothing else matters. It almost hurts to stop kissing her, and I allow every emotion I have to release because our façade ends here. As soon as we’re in the car, I’ll go back to wearing a mask and pretending we’re only friends.
When we break apart and Lennon places her fingertips over her lips, I think I might’ve kissed away her ability to speak. By the way she greedily twisted her tongue with mine behind closed doors confirms something more simmers between us, even if she doesn’t want to admit it. I hold on to the dream of her being mine, as wrong as it is. For a second, she looks as if she’s lost in her head, and it causes the guilt to drip over me.
“I’m sorry. I—”
“No,” she firmly stops me. “Don’t be.”
Maybe I’ve overstepped the boundary or pushed her too far, which causes my mind to rush a million miles per hour, but she did too.
“Ready to go home?” I ask, changing the subject, escaping the silence that lingers between us.
“I’m ready to walk around braless, eat junk food, and sleep late,” she admits with a smirk.
I laugh, the sound bouncing off the walls as we exit her old bedroom. Lennon insists on grabbing the smaller suitcase, and when we go downstairs, her parents are waiting in the sitting room. I hurry and load our bags into the car, then come back inside and tell them goodbye. Hugs and kisses are exchanged between Lennon and her parents.
“We followed your Instagram account so we can see all your updates. Let us know as soon as the baby’s born, and we’ll come to visit right away,” Mrs. Corrigan says. Her happiness radiates like sunshine.
“It was really nice to finally meet you,” I say honestly.
Her dad gives me a hard handshake and a grin. “Glad to have a son now. Happy you’re a part of the family.”
The smile on my face doesn’t fade, and I can’t help but feel like a piece of shit for deceiving them. Lennon doesn’t wait for a beat before speaking up. “Well, we gotta go. I love you both so much. See you soon!”
They follow us outside and wave goodbye when we get in the car and back out of the driveway. I beep the horn a few times as Lennon waves, and soon, the two-story house fades in the distance. As we enter the highway, Lennon lets out a long sigh, which makes me laugh.
“I’m kinda sad we’re leaving,” she finally says.
“Me too.” I don’t reach for her hand even though I want to. Instead, I keep both hands tightly wrapped around the steering wheel.
“They really liked you a lot.” She looks at me with a smile. “Thank you again for...everything,” she says, then looks out the window.
“Lennon, you know you don’t have to keep thanking me, but you’re welcome.” I meant every word, every touch, every kiss. The guilt I pushed aside for the sake of getting through this slowly returns to haunt me as we drive away from our personal haven. A place where we didn’t allow ourselves to feel remorse for what we were doing—what we had to do—and what I’d do ten times over again if I had to. Instead of pouring my soul out to her, I turn on the radio and try not to ignore the way I feel. A piece of my heart will remain in Utah, a sliver of what’s always been reserved for Lennon.
Once we reach the airport, we return the rental car and get through security in hyperspeed, but a delay in our flight means we won’t get home until after dark. I wished we would’ve known beforehand and could’ve spent time in Salt Lake City. But instead, we sit and wait. With every passing hour, Lennon grows more anxious, and so do I. By the time we have lunch, we find out we’ve been delayed even longer, so the entire day has been spent sitting and waiting. Lennon falls asleep on my shoulder, but I remain wide-awake as I process the past three days.
Eventually, we board the plane, and I’m sure every passenger who steps on is pissed. I shove Lennon’s suitcase in the storage compartment and almost worry it won’t fit because it’s stuffed to the max. Lennon packed as much as she could of her mother’s gifts, though she’ll still be shipping packages to us.
As the plane lifts into the air, Lennon takes my hands in hers, and we interlock fingers. Though it’s a small gesture, touching her feels like home. Whether she does it out of habit or comfort, I brush my thumb across the top of hers, and she leans her head against my shoulder, falling asleep. My mind is in marathon mode as I think about how holding Lennon under the booming fireworks will forever be etched into my heart. And brain.
So many people commented on how in love we were, and it’s something I can’t seem to shake.
Was it all pretend for her too? Was she acting the entire time?
Regardless, it can’t turn into anything real, though a part of me knows or rather hopes it was.
Not once did our act falter, and we performed together so well, we both deserve Oscars. But the reality is, I didn’t have to pretend. For the first time ever, the walls I’ve been so adamant about building have crumbled to rubble. Being able to kiss and touch her, and openly love her came naturally and too easy.
Before we came to Utah, I already had it bad for her—but now I’ve completely fallen.
I’m so fucking doomed.
Once we land, we deplane and grab our bags from the carousel. On the way back to the apartment, we’re both yawning. The past few days were nothing short of exhausting. Between meeting new people, waking up early, and trying to impress Lennon’s parents, I’m ready to pass out. We pull into the apartment complex, and I manage to carry all the bags up the stairs in one trip.
“I could’ve helped, you know.” Lennon unlocks the door, and we step inside. Our sighs happen in unison, and it causes her to smirk.
“Home sweet home!” she says, removing her bra and dropping it on the floor. “That feels so much better.”
“Just let it all out.” I chuckle, and she shrugs, going to the bathroom.
I bring her suitcases to her room and throw my bag on the floor. I’m pissed I didn’t take off work tomorrow. The reality that our rendezvous is over hits me in full force. The line in the sand reappears, reminding me of where we were before Utah, before Brandon’s death, before it all. Lennon needs to be kept at arm’s length, but the thought causes my heart to skip a beat. The sound of her voice startles
me.
“Now that we’re home, can we discuss the Jenna thing tomorrow?”
Fuck, she just jumps straight to it, doesn’t she? “Yes,” I say. Giving her a small smile, I know we’re back to the real world already.
“Perfect.” She gives me a small smile. “I’m gonna take a shower if that’s okay,” she tells me, changing the subject, and I nod. When the water comes on, and I hear her singing, a smile hits my lips. She takes the shortest shower ever, and I decide to take one too. I’m sure she was saving hot water for me, which has me holding back a laugh because we’ve come so damn far from the days of fighting over it.
After I finish washing my body and get dressed, all the lights in the apartment are turned off other than the lamp in the living room. I turn it off, and when I walk past Lennon’s room, I crack the door open.
“Good night, Lennon,” I say.
“Night,” she says sleepily, but I hear the smile in her voice.
When I lie in my bed, my room feels like an empty box. Tossing and turning, I search for sleep, but it doesn’t find me even though I’m tired as hell. Maybe the small ass bed we shared wasn’t so bad after all. I find myself missing the way her warm body feels, the smell of her hair, and how she fit so perfectly against me as I held her all night.
Rolling over, I force my eyes closed and try to steady my breathing when my phone vibrates on my nightstand. I’m half-tempted not to grab it, but I do. When I see a text message from Lennon, I’m confused.
Lennon: My bed is way too big.
My laughter bounces off the walls of my room, and I know she heard me.
Hunter: I’m sure we can get you a smaller one if you want.
I know what she wants, and I want it just as much as she does, but I refuse to offer. She’s going to have to ask me to lay with her. I can’t always be the one to reach out. My heart races at the prospect of it, of being close to her again, because right now, I want nothing more.
Lennon: You’re going to make me beg, aren’t you?
I grin, playing as dumb as I can.
Hunter: What are you talking about?
Lennon: Okay, never mind.
A light chuckle escapes me as I imagine the expression on her face.
Lennon: I just heard you laugh!
She giggles, and I love I’m the reason for that.
Lennon: Fine. I’ll play your game.
Hunter: What game?
I’m smiling ear to ear.
Lennon: Please come sleep with me.
Hunter: I’m not sure I got your text. What did you say?
She groans loudly, then shouts, “Hunter Manning!”
I change into a shirt and jogging pants, then grab my phone and go into her room. She rolls over and looks at me, the glow of her phone illuminating her gorgeous face. Sitting up on her elbows, she gives me a playful eye roll. “I knew you’d come.”
“How’d you know?” I ask.
“Because friends don’t leave friends in need.”
Though the word is like a knife digging into my heart, I force a smile. “You’re right.”
Lennon pats the bed and lies down, and I crawl under the sheet next to her.
“Thank you,” she says sweetly, placing her head on my chest. Pulling her into my body, I hold her tight as if I close my eyes and wake up, she’ll be gone. Her breathing quickly steadies, and I know she’s already asleep. It takes no time before I’m drifting off and dreaming of a life where we can be together without worry, care, or guilt.
Chapter Eight
Lennon
I feel Hunter’s lips on my forehead as he softly whispers, “I’m heading to work. See you tonight.” I was so exhausted from traveling these past few days that I slept in and skipped breakfast. Eating with him each morning is a tradition I’ve come to love, but fatigue is kicking my ass after our trip.
“Mmkay, bye,” I mumble in a sleepy haze, squeezing my eyes tight and rolling over.
A rumble of laughter escapes him as he brushes my hair off my face. “Get some rest. Baby needs it.” Then the door clicks shut.
Shifting around, I take the pillow Hunter used and bring it to my chest, inhaling his scent. I settle it around my belly and drift back to sleep.
When I wake up a couple of hours later, I see a group text from Sophie and Maddie asking if we can meet for lunch. I know they’re dying to know if the plan worked. I shoot a text back, telling them I can meet them in an hour, then I slowly roll out of bed and get into the shower to wake myself up.
As I wash my body, lathering soap around my swollen breasts and belly, I sing lullabies. At four months pregnant, I know the baby can hear me and not only do I want him or her to recognize my voice, but I also hope the music will comfort them the way it’s always comforted me.
My favorite “Baby Mine” cover by Alison Krauss makes me think of my mother. I vividly remember her singing it to me while I was throwing a tantrum in the middle of the shopping center. Instead of yelling, she started singing, and it’d immediately grabbed my attention. Her voice was so soothing and calming, it snapped me out of my meltdown. I was four or five years old then. Even as a teen, she’d hum the melody whenever I had a bad day at school or was upset about something. There are dozens of other songs I love too, but this one was always my favorite and still is.
I can’t wait to share it with my baby.
“You okay?” Sophie asks me an hour later when we meet at a little café down the block.
“Yeah, actually. Just feeling a little tired, I guess,” I lie, looking at the menu, unsure what to share about this weekend. Some details I want to keep to myself—hidden in my heart.
After we order, they look at me. “Well?” Maddie finally asks. “Give us the scoop. You haven’t told us anything except that you arrived and weren’t kicked out on your asses.”
Shrugging, I casually say, “They bought it. In fact, they really love Hunter.” It’s the understatement of the year.
Sophie exhales a relieved breath, placing a hand over her heart. “Thank God. I was dying.”
“Of course they did,” Maddie says, playing with the straw in her drink. “What’s not to love, amirite?”
Sophie gives her a side-eye of disapproval.
“Because of his charming personality,” Maddie tries to deflect. “Plus, he’s a project manager, right? So he’s a people person and used to captivating them with his good looks and piercing eyes. Hell, I get pregnant every time I see him.”
I glare at her. “Anyway...”
Sophie chuckles. “So Mom and Dad really liked him, huh?” she asks.
“Yep,” I confirm. “Said they were really happy for me—us—and could see how much we loved each other.”
They both go silent.
“We were acting,” I emphasize before they get any ideas. Before my heart gets any ideas.
Sophie and Maddie glance at each other, and I roll my eyes.
I tell them about the Fourth of July events, how Hunter blended in with everyone, made them believe we were a real couple, and how smoothly it all went. In fact, it not only looked real, it felt real too, but I don’t disclose that part.
“Was the kissing an act too?” Sophie asks me, concern written all over her face.
“You kissed? Like a lot?” Maddie leans closer.
“Well, we had to look convincing as newlyweds,” I remind them. “We practiced a couple of times beforehand, so it wasn’t awkward or anything.”
“So like sweet pecks or full-on make-out sessions?” Maddie taunts me by waggling her eyebrows suggestively.
I roll my eyes, lowering my face to hide the blush on my cheeks. Hunter’s kisses are what wet dreams are made of. Thankfully, our lunch arrives, interrupting our conversation. I immediately dig in, needing to fill my stomach before the guilt eats me alive.
“So why don’t you two tell me what you did while I was gone?” I ask. “Fill me in.”
“I nearly murdered my roommates over drinking all the milk and not buying more,�
� Sophie says with a groan. “I really need to get the hell out of there.”
Maddie and I both give her a look of sadness. “We’ll come up with a game plan,” I tell her. “Have you tried looking in the roommates wanted ads?”
“I just can’t afford to move right now, but as soon as I get the chance, I’m out of there,” Sophie admits, and I understand that more than she knows. I know she has student loans, her car payment, rent, and other bills to pay, which doesn’t leave her a lot of extra to save for situations like this.
Maddie changes the subject. “Oh, so Mason, Liam, and I went to watch Sophie play in the park before the fireworks.”
“Oh right! That was nice they went.” I look at Sophie, wondering if there’s more to the story.
“Mason was intrigued by your strings, that’s for sure,” Maddie taunts around a mouthful of food, then swallows.
“Shut up, Mads,” Sophie hisses, her cheeks turning pink.
“He was. You’re a badass with that violin. Looking all serious up there, and then you start playing, and your whole face lights up. Mason was...entranced, to say the least.” She slowly enunciates her last word, smirking at Sophie, teasing her. What cracks me up the most is they’re so busy giving each other shit about Mason and Liam, they nearly forget about me and Hunter.
“He couldn’t take his eyes off you,” Maddie continues.
“Must’ve been too entranced to actually hold a conversation with me then.” Sophie’s tone makes me snort, and I shake my head.
“Well, the only time he looked away was to dodge all the chicks parading around him,” Maddie explains. “I had to shoo them off more than once. Actually, now that I think about it, he used me as a buffer to ignore them. He put his arm around my shoulders, and I wrapped my arm around his waist as we walked around. No wonder he was being so...friendly. Asshole was using me.”