The Art of Falling in Love with Your Fake Fiancé: A small town closed door romantic comedy (Sweetkis

15. Levi

FIFTEEN

“Do you think Georgie’s open mic night was good last night?”

Duncan has not spoken to me as much as he has in the past two days in the whole time I’ve known him. Since Georgie was here for dinner, he’s been chattering nonstop about the bookstore, about her computer he tried to fix by sticking it in a bag of rice, and about Toto. There was also a soliloquy about autobiographies which I didn’t understand and, oh, yeah.

Questions about what a fake fiancée means.

“Want to call and ask her how it was?” I hand him my phone. “I’m sure she’d love to hear from you.”

Duncan takes the phone, eyes it, and puts it on the counter. “Nah. I don’t want to look thirsty.”

“Thirsty.” I swallow a laugh. Who knew ten-year-olds could be so precocious? “I don’t think she’ll see it as thirsty, buddy, Just curious.”

“Maybe you want to call her,” he challenges, crossing his arms.

“If I do, I’ll just call her.” I look up from the paperwork I’m not-so-fully engrossed in and point to the ping-pong table in the middle of the barn. “Want to play a game when I’m done?”

Duncan nods. “Sure. Then next time Georgie’s out, she can play the winner.”

Putting my pen down, I put Duncan in my sights. Time for a man-to-man talk. “You know, I noticed that from the moment you got to know her, you’ve been super attached to Georgie. Is there a reason why?”

Duncan shrugs as he picks up a ping-pong ball and starts to tap it with a paddle, keeping it under control as he chats with me. “Dunno.”

“You don’t know or you don’t want to tell me?” When I see his eyes shift around the room, I give him further permission. “You can have a secret with her if you want and not tell me, but if you can let me know, I’d really like it. I want us to have the kind of relationship where you can come to me to talk about anything, Duncan. Everything. I’m not perfect, but maybe I can help, too?”

He’s quiet and reflective before he speaks. “Did you know she’s an orphan?” he asks thoughtfully as he catches the ball and stops tapping it repeatedly.

I nod, understanding coming over me. “She told me about her childhood.”

“She’s alone, like me. She gets me.” His eyes widen as he says the words. “Not that you don’t, it’s only that she’s different.”

“It’s fine,” I say, standing up and walking over to the table to join him. “I want you to know my door is always open for us to talk; you tell me when and where, and I’m there. And if you want to talk to Georgie, you talk to her.” I wait a beat before I press on. “Also, you’re not alone, Duncan. You’ve got us now. Me, my mom, and Austin. We’re here for you. Always.”

Duncan goes quiet, but his eyes say so much. I can see the fear, the worry, the lack of understanding yet also fully knowing and comprehending what’s going on around him. When he had asked us about the fake fiancée comment two nights ago, we’d quickly covered our bases. Georgie had insisted it was a movie she’d seen, and he’d let the comment slide under the rug.

This time.

“Look…” I kneel in front of him. ”You’ve been through something in your life that none of us will ever understand, so I’m making an appointment for us to go talk to someone.”

His eyes light up. “Georgie?”

“No.” I chuckle, shaking my head. “He’s a therapist, a man in town who you can talk to about how you feel and about your parents.”

Duncan’s brow furrows. “But you just said I can talk to you and Georgie.”

“You can, but this man will help you talk about losing your parents and how to handle those feelings. I’m going to go to see him, too, so that way we can all talk about it.” I push his bangs off his forehead, Georgie’s comment about him needing a haircut hitting home. “If you’re okay with me going, too, that is.”

He slowly nods, big brown eyes finding mine. “Will I have to talk about why I don’t want to live with Grandmom?”

Well, this is news. “You can, if you want.”

I stay still, not wanting to press him. The barn is quiet except for the occasional snore coming from one of the four truffle dogs that are in here with us sleeping. The small crew is usually with my mom when she’s here, but since she’s out running errands today, they followed Duncan and me to the barn.

“I don’t want to live with her,” he says, his voice small. “But I don’t want her to be sad that I’m not there.”

I feel a touch guilty for a second, but it does feel good to be the chosen one. “Feel like talking about why you don’t want to live with her?”

“Well, she doesn’t have a farm,” he says with all seriousness. “I mean, I know she wants me there, but I can’t be. She’s very sad all the time and wants to talk about what happened over and over again.”

“You don’t want to do that?”

He shakes his head from side to side. I can only imagine what it must feel like for all of them to relive the hurt from last year over and over, but for Duncan to have to when he’s the sole survivor has to be gut-wrenching and impossible to understand when you’re ten.

“Well, when you start to see your therapist he’ll help you create boundaries so you can talk about what you want and need, okay?” I lean down and pull him in for a hug, not expecting anything in return. However, I’m surprised and buoyed when he wraps his hands around my waist and squeezes me tight.

“I don’t want her to be mad, I just want to be…here.”

“It’s fine, and we’ll figure it out, okay? It’s not like any of us have been through this before.”

“I still want to see my grandmom, just not live with her.” His voice is so matter-of-fact, like “Why can’t you adults do it like this?” This kid is so gonna run for President one day. Fingers crossed.

“Well, the next time I see her, we’ll talk about this, okay?”

“I don’t have to do it?”

“No, I can,” I say as I ruffle his hair.

“Cool.” He shoves his hands in his front pockets. “So, I know you want to play ping-pong but…can I go play video games for a little while instead?”

Go figure. My head is spinning from all the turns this conversation is taking. “Go for it.”

He cracks me up as he skips out of the barn. Even the dogs are pulled in by his energy as they all rise from their slumbers and trot behind him, following him back to the house.

I wonder if this is what parenting really looks like. Trying to find a gray area in keeping kids young and oblivious while also gently bringing them into a very adult world with very adult situations. Social media, mobile phones, dating.

Sighing, I scratch my head as I sit back down and stare at the paperwork I’d discarded earlier. A letter of retirement I’ve been working on with my agent, Travis, to give to the owner of the team letting everyone know that next year is officially my last year in the NFL playing professionally. I’m still not one hundred percent sure that this is what I’m supposed to do, so it’s not gone to anyone yet. I’ve not talked to anyone except Travis about this because I just don’t know if it’s what I’m doing yet.

When I think about my career, I’ve had a good run. An amazing one. From high school state championships to college wins, and now a career that has taken me places I never thought I”d end up.

But now, there’s Duncan.

Now, there’s also Georgie—and there’s a possibility of a future with both.

Just the thought of her brings a grin to my face that is a mile wide. When I think about her, I think about that kiss in my apartment. The other night at dinner, I fought my instinct to drag her out of the room and press her up against a wall and slam my mouth across hers.

Yet, Duncan’s words also reverberate in my ear. She’s alone. Like me.

I was able to explain to him that he’s not alone, and I know he gets me, but does Georgie think that, too? Does she feel alone in the world?

I put the documents back in their folder for safekeeping. I can come back to them another day.

Instead, I let images of Georgie dance in my mind, the feeling of those soft, full lips still imprinted on me. I’ve wanted to kiss her for so long, and to finally have it happen, well, I’m a little embarrassed she had to be the first one to do it. But I’m catching up, slowly. From what I can tell from our brief conversation at dinner the other night, she’s on the same page. Which is good. Great in fact.

Because I’m starting to see a life without her in it may not be a fun one at all. Over the last few days, I’ve checked in with myself, wondering if I could date someone else who isn’t Georgie or if I could be interested in someone down the road. The answer is always the same as it has been since I met her: a resounding no.

When I think about seeing her with someone else, something absolutely insane happens inside of me. I feel like steam starts to come out of my ears and I want to scream. The thought of another man even touching her…

But she’s not really mine to have, is she? We’re quid pro quo. Or are we?

“Argh!” I shake my head and stand up from the desk. The gym is calling. When I’m this pent-up, I need a good workout.

It would appear that by asking for this favor I’ve gotten me and Georgie right tangled in a web of untruths. But does it count if I’m starting to fall head over heels for her?