“Is everything okay?” my mother said.
I should’ve kept my mouth shut. I should’ve kept calm. But for the first time in forever, I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. Anger and resentment and guilt and shame—they came to the surface, and I couldn’t hold them back.
“I know about Dad,” I said. The words came out rushed and stilted. “I know about how he died. I know about you, I—” I shook my head sharply and clamped my mouth shut.
But the damage was done.
My mother’s face grew pale, and her eyes widened with horror. Then the tears started, as I knew they would. She shook her head and reached for me, clutching the fabric of my shirt with a desperate grip. “What did Jack tell you? It’s lies. He’s lying.”
Jack. I stared at her as his name registered through her tears and her wailing. Jack?
I peered at my mother, but this wasn’t one of those moments. Her eyes were clear. She knew where she was and who she was talking to.
“What does Jack know?”
Her eyes widened, and I saw the fear, the guilt.
And then she was gone. Retreating into herself the way she always did when the past came back to haunt her. Whimpers and tears were the last I saw of her as I followed in Amber’s wake and headed toward my truck.
I didn’t know where I was going. Not right then.
But I knew who I had to see.
Sixteen
Lila
I walked out to the living room and found Tess reading a book on the couch. “Tell me honestly, do I look ridiculous?”
Tess’s eyes widened, but then she got all blubbery and weird as she clasped a hand over her heart. “Oh Lila, you look beautiful.”
I rolled my eyes. “Please. You are so not going to get all proud big sister on me, are you?”
That sapped most of her corny sentimentality in an instant. She dropped her hand with an exasperated sigh. “Sorry, I forgot for a second that you’re still a little brat.”
I gave her a saccharine smile in return.
She eyed me from head to toe. “Seriously, though, you do look good.”
I made a face. “Not ridiculous?”
She eyed the pale pink dress. It was an old-fashioned style—from the fifties or sixties, maybe. Sleeveless and silky, the dress covered me all the way up to my neck and was fitted all the way down to my waist. It flared out after that and fell to my knees.
It was, without a doubt, the most prudish dress I’d worn since puberty hit and I’d gotten curves.
“I like your hair like that,” Tess said.
I wrinkled my nose and glanced in the mirror at the simple updo. I’d figured if my dress was old-fashioned, might as well go all the way. Retro-chic or whatever.
Tess shifted on the couch. “So, what’s with this?” she asked, gesturing to my getup. “Is this for Brandon?”
I didn’t respond, but some of my guilt must have shown. Tess sighed. “Don’t tell me you’re giving up.”
I met her gaze evenly. “There’s nothing more I can do to convince him.”
She arched a brow and looked frighteningly like our father for one second. “Nothing?”
I shifted in my peep-toe heels. Of course there was something. There was always something. I knew one of his secrets and knowledge was power.
Knowledge could be used as leverage.
She leveled me with another knowing look, but this time I met it was a glare. “Nothing I could live with.”
She softened a bit and gave me a little nod. I took that to be understanding.
“So, what’s with all this then?” She waved a hand over my outfit.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Fitting in?”
She arched her brows. “Only three weeks too late.”
I scoffed. “Please. We both know Brandon wasn’t about to be wooed by the way I look.”
Her lips quirked up at the side. “When did you figure it out?”
I narrowed my eyes. “When did you?” Tess barely left her house and had yet to even meet Brandon MacMillan. “Wait, don’t tell me. You have your sources.”
She shrugged. “Daddy has his sources.”
“Right, right,” I muttered. “Same difference.”
She stiffened a bit and looked away. And here we were, back to being on opposite sides of the great divide named Daddy.
She crossed her arms and tilted her chin toward the outfit. “So, if this isn’t for Brandon, who’s it for?” She arched her brows. “Jack?”
I didn’t answer, and she sighed. “Delilah.”
“Theresa.” I drew her full name out just like she’d done. Not my most mature moment, but it worked.
She dropped the maternal routine. “I just hope you know what you’re doing.”
I didn’t. I honestly had no idea. I’d seen Jack nearly every day since that scene in my bedroom last week. Not much had changed between us, honestly. Our little chats in the hall were still laced with teasing and snarky comebacks. But the undercurrent of desire was always there, just under the surface. And then, there were these… moments. Moments when he’d do something unforgivably sweet. Like carry my books.
God, I couldn’t even handle how clichéd that was.
Or how cute.
Then there was the way he came to my rescue in biology when no one wanted to be paired up with me for a lab. I would’ve been totally fine dissecting the frog on my own, obviously, but it had still been rather… sweet.
Tess’s groan dragged me out of my reverie. “Oh no.”
“What?”
“That look,” she said. “I know that look.”
I glanced over at the hall mirror and blinked. What the hell was that?
Tess might’ve recognized the look, but I did not. I frowned at myself. Was that how I looked when I liked somebody?
Gross.
“I don’t want to see you get hurt,” Tess said.
I aimed my frown in her direction. “Jack won’t hurt me.” The absolute certainty in my voice clearly shocked Tess.
Almost as much as it shocked me.
“I wasn’t talking about Jack,” she said.
“Daddy.”
She widened her eyes. “Of course Daddy.”
I shifted uncomfortably as my gut twisted with apprehension. She had a point—one which I’d been trying not to think about for days now.
“Brandon doesn’t want to leave. This is his home.”
“But it’s not yours,” Tess said.
“What if it could be?”
She stared at me in surprise, and I couldn’t blame her. I was scaring the crap out of myself over here with these new ideas. These weirdly compelling thoughts of what might be. I’d never been much of an optimist, but then again, I’d never met a guy like Jack before.
“Are you serious?” Tess asked.
I opened my mouth to say no, of course not. Lila Devereaux, a Pinedale townie? I didn’t think so. But instead I found myself arguing the point. “Why not? I mean, think about it. It’s not necessarily a bad thing to be living somewhere I’m not being called an idiot all the time.”
“You don’t have friends here,” Tess said. I appreciated that she didn’t try to argue the point about Daddy.
“I don’t have friends back home either,” I said. “I have frenemies. At least here I have the potential for friends.”
Tess’s brows hitched up in surprise.
“What?” I said defensively. “I’ve made some friends.” I paused to think. “Sort of.”
“Brandon doesn’t count,” Tess said. “And neither does Jack.”
I blinked. “Amber would be my friend.”
Tess’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wait… Amber? Amber Reed?”
I waved off any more questions of friends, not even bothering to ask how she knew Amber’s last name. Tess was a frightening vault of information, and friendships—even hypothetical, potential ones—were definitely not my area of expertise. “You know what? Never mind.”
Tess took a step towa
rd me. “Just think about this before you make any hasty decision, okay?” She clasped her hands together in front of her, almost like she was begging me. “Just think, Dee. You wouldn’t be rich, you wouldn’t have glamorous friends, wouldn’t be jet-setting around the world—”
“But I’d have a home,” I finished. Oh God, did my voice just crack? How embarrassing. “I’d have a home,” I said again, this time in a calmer tone.
I heard Jack’s voice clear as day, the words that had haunted me for the past week. I want you. I want you here, in my life.
I’d have a home… where I was wanted.
Tess looked pained on my behalf. Almost as if she’d heard the words I hadn’t said. “And you deserve that, Lila, you really do.” She drew in a deep breath.
I waited for the ‘but,’ but it never came. Instead, Tess let out a long exhale. “I thought you didn’t like it here.”
I shrugged. “Me too.”
Her eyes met mine, and I thought I saw a flicker of understanding. “Daddy will never approve.”
I nodded and ignored the roiling in my gut. That was the understatement of the century. But for the first time in a long time, I’d seen a glimpse of what life could be like if my father wasn’t my father, if my life wasn’t my life... if I was someone different.
Tess sighed again, and her gaze grew distant. She was thinking. Scheming. “Maybe there’s another way,” she said.
Maybe. Maybe not. Right now, I didn’t want to think about any of that. I didn’t want to ponder the logistics of this crazy, life-changing idea. I didn’t want to make any decisions or think about the consequences. I just wanted to see Jack.
“Wish me luck,” I said, moving away from my sister and heading toward the door.
“With what?”
My heart pounded as I raced down the steps and into the hardware store. Jack’s father was closing up, but his smile was warm and enveloping when he saw me. “Lila,” he said with a fatherly pride that made my chest warm. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you, Mr. Carlton.” I looked around. “Is Jack still here?”
He shook his head. “He took off to go to the dance.” He arched a brow. “Which is, I’m guessing, where you’re heading.”
I nodded, and for a second, panic reared up inside of me. “Did he, um… did he leave with a date?”
Mr. Carlton’s mouth twitched up in a knowing smile that was eerily reminiscent of his son’s. “He left alone, and as far as I know, he’s not meeting anyone.”
I didn’t have to look in a mirror to know that my giant, dopey grin was humiliating as I backed out the way I’d come. “Okay. Great. Um… thanks.”
And then I was gone, in my car, and on my way.
Funny, the entire time I’d talked to Tess and the whole drive to the school, my heart pounded like I’d run a mile. Adrenaline fueled me along. This whole past week, I’d been stewing over what Jack had said, and tonight, I was finally acting on it.
My body was on fire. My brain had turned off. All I could do was act on instinct. I wasn’t sure what I would say or do, but everything in me was urging to get to Jack. To be with him.
The school smelled the same as always when I entered. It reeked of cheap cleaning solvent and hormones; the sound of squeaking shoes filled the lobby, and I spotted faces I’d come to recognize after nearly a month in this little fishbowl of a school.
I felt their stares when I came to a stop in the lobby, and I heard the faint music coming from the gym, which was currently a makeshift dancefloor. This school looked exactly the same as the first day I’d walked these halls, but it felt different.
I felt different.
I ignored the stares, the way I always did.
“Hey, Lila,” one of Amber’s friends called out. I gave her a little wave but kept walking. Would I ever fit in here at this school?
Maybe not.
Did I care?
Hell no.
Fitting in was overrated. I’d fit in with my friends back home and look where that had gotten me. Forgotten and mocked the moment I was out of the picture. No doubt it would be the same here. But maybe there would be a friend or two in this group of ordinary teenagers. Maybe Amber, or maybe one of her friends. Brandon, for sure. I liked Brandon.
And Jack. I swung open the doors to the gym and spotted him instantly. I definitely liked Jack. My heart gave a jolt at the sight of him. It leapt in my chest like it was trying to jump out of my body and into his.
Jack leaned against the wall on the opposite side of the room, looking bored and sexy. His dark gaze roamed over the crowd as he ignored the group of girls standing beside him, talking to one another and possibly to him. He didn’t seem to notice them. His gaze found me, and that group ceased to exist. Everyone in this gym faded into nothing.
The thumping, terrible music, the tacky Christmas lights strung up to mimic something romantic and elegant—it was all a blur around me as his gaze held mine and read everything. He saw right inside of me, and I didn’t try to hide.
I was here… for him. To be with him. And it was terrifying.
I stood there for what felt like an eternity, frozen in place by the sheer overwhelming excitement of the moment. The thumping of the bass in the epically bad sound system matched the thud in my chest.
After a moment of staring into my eyes, it happened. His mouth quirked up in an achingly slow, heart-wrenchingly perfect smile. It was knowing and smug and freakin’ sexy as hell.
I found myself returning his smile. Some distant part of my brain was aware that we must have looked silly gazing at one another from across the room like this. If anyone was watching, we clearly looked ridiculous. A total cliché.
But in that moment, every romantic cliché made sense. Every one of them. The bubbly pop songs, the melodramatic poems, the angsty teen movies.
Yeah. I got them now.
The world did fade away to just the two of us. My heart was pounding in my ears. His gaze on me was so hot I could feel it on my skin, and the air between us held no oxygen… only gravity.
I’d be damned. They were clichés for a reason.
He pushed away from the wall and headed toward me, his gaze never wavering from mine. He weaved through the crowd, and my smile grew as he drew nearer. I couldn’t wait to tell him what I’d just decided right then and there. All hesitation was gone, all the fear replaced by an insane flood of hope.
Things could be different. I could be different.
I let out a breathless laugh as I watched Jack making his way toward me. With Jack, I could start over, make a new life, maybe even—
“I need to talk to you.” Brandon’s voice behind me shocked me out of my happy daze, and I whirled around.
All of my joy was replaced with concern. “Brandon, are you okay?”
No. The answer was clearly no. His handsome face was pale, the skin around his eyes and mouth taut with stress and something else.
Something worse.
Something like desperation.
“We need to go,” he said.
I glanced around quickly, but I’d lost Jack in the crowd, and Amber was nowhere to be seen. “Brandon, you’re scaring me,” I said. “Where do you need to go?”
He took a step closer and gripped my arms. “I’m ready to take your dad up on his offer. I’m ready to go to Hollywood with you.”
I blinked up at him. “What—when—wh—” I swallowed another asinine question and tried again. “What made you change your mind?”
He shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to get out of here.”
I looked around again at a loss. This seemed like a wonderful moment for one of his close friends to step in. Amber would know exactly how to handle a distraught, emotional Brandon.
I floundered in the face of a weepy Tess, and she was my own sister. Half-sister. Whatever.
Brandon squeezed my arms. “Lila, I need to get out of here. Can you make that happen?”
I nodded. “Yes. Of course
. If that’s what you want—”
He slumped a bit in relief and started to back away. “It is. I need to go.”
I opened my mouth, trying to find the right way to say that I needed to stay.
“I need you with me,” he said softly. The pleading in his eyes was too much to bear. For the first time since I’d arrived, I got it—the reason that Jack and Amber worked so hard to protect him. There was a vulnerability in his eyes that was frightening. It wasn’t weakness exactly, just something innocent. Kind. Something that ought to be protected.
“Of course,” I said. I was already imagining him alone in Los Angeles, and it made me anxious on his behalf. He’d need someone to make introductions and show him the ropes. He’d need an insider to help him navigate the shark-infested waters that was my father’s production company and the social-climbing bottom dwellers who’d seek him out and try to use him.
He let out a loud exhale of relief, and his forehead dropped to mine. “I know your father wants us to be a couple—I know that’s what you want.”
I opened my mouth to explain that I’d changed my mind, but he was too quick.
“I want that too.”
I let out a short, humorless laugh. “No, you don’t.” I shook my head, and he lifted his, but his hands gripped my arms tighter. “You don’t want me,” I said in a gentler voice. “Not like that. I know you don’t, remember?”
I gave him a prodding look because for a second, I thought maybe he’d forgotten our conversation earlier today. Maybe it somehow slipped his mind that we’d already firmly established the fact that he didn’t want me… or any girl.
His brows drew down, and he shook his head. “I know. I know, but—” He shook his head a bit in frustration. “I’m not ready to… to come out.”
I drew in a quick breath because I had a feeling I knew where this was going.
And I had a feeling I couldn’t possibly say no.
“I need someone to…”
“To pretend,” I said, my tone bland and bored as though a guy asking me to be his beard was a common occurrence. And not just any beard—a high-profile beard splashed on the cover of magazines and gracing the checkout aisle stands in supermarkets everywhere.
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