10 RYAN
RYAN
I’m going to die.
One thing about Baylin; trip in one corner of town and someone at the bakery across the street hears about it before you even stand back up.
Tonight, that actually works in our favour.
Because tonight is the Baylin Bonfire. And if we’re going to sell this whole fake-dating thing, or whatever you wanna call it, this is the night to do it.
I pull out my phone and shoot Maddy a text.
ME: want me to swing by your place? we can walk down together.
A second later, the screen lights up.
MADDY: yeah that’s good. Dad and Noah will leave in a little.
Good. That gives me a minute to mentally prepare in case either of them decides to murder me on sight.
ME: great.
I pull up outside the Gracelyn house, the engine humming softly as I park. I step out and walk towards the porch, running a hand through my hair. Then the front door swings open. And Noah steps out.
Shit. Guess I celebrated a little too early.
Noah steps off the porch, but slows when he spots me, coming to a stop a few feet away. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Hey,” he says.
“Hey, man.” My voice cracks slightly, like I just hit puberty and I’m asking a girl out for the first time.
There’s a short pause where neither of us moves. I shove my hands into my pockets too, avoiding eye contact like an idiot.
“Alright, dude,” Noah starts. “Whatever’s going on between you and Mads—”
Here it is. This is where I die.
“—I trust both of you.”
I blink at him. “You… do?”
“Yeah,” he says it like it’s hard for him to say. “Do you actually like her?”
“Yeah,” I answer and immediately feel the guilt creeping in.
“Okay. Good.”
He turns to head down to the beach, but stops after two steps. “If you’re just screwing around with her, I’ll—”
“I’m not,” I cut in quickly. “I promise.”
Which isn’t technically a lie. I mean, I’m not screwing around with her. She agreed on the deal too.
Noah exhales slowly, pointing a finger at me. “Doesn’t mean I’m not keeping an eye on you.”
I nod once. “Expected nothing less.”
He steps past me, then pauses to clap a firm hand on my shoulder. “Don’t be late.”
“I won’t.”
He heads down the path toward the beach. I stay on the porch for another second longer than necessary, letting out a slow breath.
Then the front door opens again and I expect to see Maddy, but instead Luke steps out onto the porch.
Can I catch a fucking break tonight or what? Now I am gonna die.
He spots me and pauses. “Ryan,” he says.
“Hey, Luke.”
I suddenly feel twelve years old again, standing in this exact same spot waiting to see if I’m in trouble.
He stops in front of me, his eyes unreadable. But after a couple seconds, he smiles. “I’m happy for you two.”
“Really?”
Are they both just chill about this?
“Of course.” He shrugs a little. “I know you’re a good guy. And I trust my daughter.”
Something in my chest loosens at that. Even though we’re not actually dating, getting approval from the man who basically helped raise me hits harder than I expect.
“Thanks, Luke,” I say. “That means a lot.”
He points at me. “But don’t get too comfortable. If you make her cry, I will never let you forget it for the rest of your life.”
A laugh slips out before I can stop it. “Yes, sir.”
“I’m serious,” he adds, though there’s a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“I know.” I nod once. “I’ll take good care of her.”
“I know you will.” He glances toward the beach where the bonfire lights flicker in the distance. “I’m gonna go help Noah. I’ll see you down there.”
“Great.”
He heads off toward the beach, leaving me alone on the porch yet again. A few seconds later the door opens and this time it is actually Maddy. She steps outside in a simple summer-blue dress, her hair’s half up, half down, moving a little in the breeze as she pulls the door shut behind her.
“Hey,” she says.
“You told me Noah and your dad would already be on the beach. I could've died out here.”
She presses her lips together, clearly trying not to laugh. “I’m sorry. They were slower than I thought.”
I shake my head, a small smile creeping in as we start walking down toward the sound of waves and music.
“So…” she says after a second, glancing at me. “They didn’t kill you?”
“Not yet.”
“Good.”
We’re almost on the sand when she grabs my hand and laces our fingers together. I look down at our hands, then back at her. “We’re jumping straight to hand-holding, huh?”
“No harm in speeding up the process.” She tilts her head toward the beach. “Besides, this place is full of people who would absolutely try to set you up.”
A laugh slips out of me. “Yeah. You’re not wrong.”
“Alright,” she says, glancing over at me again. “Big stage. Full audience.”
“Our Super Bowl,” I say.
“Let’s try not to screw it up.”
A smirk pulls at my mouth. “I’m about to be so convincing, people will start planning our wedding by dessert.”
“If anyone does that,” she says sweetly, “I’m lighting your hoodie on fire.”
“Deal.”