Chapter 14 Mel
Chapter fourteen
Mel
“Finally, I get to be official,” Sean joked. “She couldn’t wait for this party to get the skeleton out of the closet.”
Then he looked at me with the hottest smile I’d ever seen on him—wide, sincere, and scrambling every thought I had. Okay, he wasn’t so bad at this fake boyfriend thing, and definitely not bad at the hot ‘smile’ thing.
Mom’s eyebrows remain lifted, frozen as if she’d walked out of a Botox commercial. “Oh?”
I held my breath, bracing for how Sean would handle this.
“Told me not to let work get in the way. I had to pull some strings, but she’s worth the trouble,” he added easily.
Either he genuinely didn’t notice Mom gearing up for an interrogation, or he was doing a damn good job pretending not to. Oh, who was I kidding? Those warm eyes, rich and way too knowing, told me he totally knew.
Mom’s stunned expression lasted all of three heartbeats. Then her face softened, eyes narrowing. I knew that look. It was the same she wore when she was suspicious.
Suddenly, I was more nervous than I’d been two years ago when Vince left, and it seemed everyone had been talking about our breakup.
Because this wasn’t just any crowd, this was my crowd—childhood friends, extended family, people who still brought up the time I was cast as a tree in the second-grade play. If they sniffed out that this was a bluff, my humiliation wouldn’t only echo; it’d explode.
Sean must’ve felt me stiffen. He reached for my hand and pulled me gently closer to him, then his arm slid around my waist casually as if we did this all the time.
The man had a perfect save. His thumb brushed against my hip, a barely-there motion no one else could see, but my whole body noticed.
The simple touch anchored me when I wanted to fold in on myself.
Vince looked on, tongue-tied. But Sean in his button-down, jeans, and whole damn performance was dangerously convincing. He didn’t just play well for the crowd—it gave me the nerve to stand tall under Mom’s pointed gaze.
I found my voice. “Vince, I didn’t know you two knew each other.”
“Love, we only met today,” Sean answered.
My heart skittered at love as Sean looked down on me. He’d raised the bar of this pretense, so I wrapped my arm around his back to level up. One glance at my mom told me she could use a splash of cold water to wake up from her second shock from the familiarity on display.
“But we had a solid hockey exchange earlier,” Sean added, and squeezed my waist.
The heat from his hand sparked straight through me, lighting every nerve ending. If Sean’s smile melted snow caps, this was a tectonic event. One more squeeze, and I’d be legally classified as lava, which was a good problem.
“There you are,” Sam’s voice rang out as she joined us. “I was wondering where you went, Sean.”
She said it so casually, as if they were old friends from beyond that one time at the ice cream truck.
I’d never been so grateful for my truth-bomb sister.
Sean smiled. “Hey, I had to steal your thunder and meet your mom.”
He matched her casual we-know-each-other beat for beat.
“You know him?” Mom asked Sam, stunned the third time around.
“Jeez, Mom, what a question,” Sam said, breezy as ever.
A blink of silence. I could practically hear the gears turning in Mom’s head, but Sam didn’t flinch. My MVP of crisis management, someone please give her a medal.
“Okay, Love, want to finish the intro with your dad?” Sean asked.
“Wait,” Sam cut in. “Before you do, Ella wants a photo. You, me, Sean. Graduation backdrop, over by the hedge where the string lights look good. Two minutes.”
Grateful to escape the tension, we followed Sam out to the back porch, Sean holding my hand. I didn’t look back, but I felt Mom’s and Vince’s eyes drilling into me, with smoke probably coming out of their ears.
Sean’s timing had been flawless, so smooth I started wondering if he practiced this kind of performance in his free time. Meanwhile, I was barely holding it together, my dress suddenly too warm. A walking, talking stress ball on the arm of Mr. Cool Under Pressure.
The air outside was cooler, scented with honeysuckles climbing the fence and the smoky sweetness of grilled food.
“What’s the photo for?” Sean asked as we descended the steps.
“You know Ella, Mel,” Sam said. “She’s in full blog mode. Theme of the month is graduation, and she’s taking my grad recap as seriously as finding a cure. You’ll be a tiny part of it. C’mon.”
She waved to her friend, who stood at the edge of the lawn, camera slung around her neck.
After a quick greeting with Ella, she framed us: Sam in the middle, beaming in her gown. Me on one side, Sean on the other, his arm slung behind us.
“One more couple pic, please.” Ella grinned. “You two are too cute not to document.”
Couple pic? My heart skittered.
“Are you okay with that?” Sean asked, amused.
I was already flushed. “It’s fine.”
It was totally not fine, but how could I deny Ella when she thought we were an actual couple?
Sean’s hand grazed the small of my back as we posed for the photo. The same spark that lit through me when he pulled me close in front of Mom flared again. One photo, but it felt like I’d stepped into quicksand, and the more I tried to stay upright, the deeper I sank.
Ella thanked us.
Sean and I went to meet my dad. He was with his group of friends clustered on a backyard corner.
After introducing Sean, Dad lifted an eyebrow, then offered a genuine smile.
The party rolled on. Plates continued passing, and music shifted from upbeat to mellow.
People laughed, hugged, and slowly began to peel off in twos and threes.
I caught Sean at the drink table later, refilling my glass without asking. “Hydration,” he said, and it was stupid how much that small gesture cut through the leftover adrenaline.
He stayed close but not clingy, chatting with a few guests, helping move a cooler without being asked. Every time our eyes met across the yard, my stomach did that stupid swoop thing. And when the sky turned that hazy purple-blue of late evening, I realized I didn’t want him to leave.
The aftershock of playing pretend all night lingered; his presence made me feel steadier than I felt in years. After a lifetime of bracing for my mother’s expectations pressing down on me, it felt good to stand next to someone who backed me up like he meant it.
We’d drifted to the back porch, settling shoulder to shoulder on the rail as the evening trickled down.
From a distance, we probably looked like any couple taking a quiet breather together.
Whenever one of us shifted, his sleeve brushed my arm—small, unspoken touches that sold the picture better than words ever could.
He didn’t seem fazed by the charade, no nervous glances, no awkward pauses. If anything, he wore the role like a second skin. He was surprisingly good at this fake-boyfriend thing, and I wasn’t ready to let that go just yet.
“I should head out,” he said, after we’d stood a while, people-watching and catching snippets of conversation drifting out from inside and across the yard.
I bit my inner cheek. He’d been great company.
“Of course,” I said, disappointment curling through me as I looked through the yard to hide it. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
I didn’t want the night to end, but I could at least stretch it a few more steps.
We passed the last few lingering guests on our way out to the poorly lit sidewalk. My sandals clicked softly on the pavement; the neighborhood buzz of the party had thinned to a hush.
At his car up the street, he leaned casually against the curb side.
“Not that bad, huh?”
“That’s all you have to say? You pulled that off better than a winning goal.”
He chuckled. “Happy that’s how it felt to you.”
His hands caught mine, thumbs brushing the insides of my wrists. If he was checking for a pulse, he’d know mine was racing. He eased me between his parted legs and brushed a loose curl behind my ear before his thumb skimmed down my cheek. Then he leaned in and pressed a kiss there.
“So,” he murmured, “can I claim my favorite part of the deal?”
He brushed his lips over my other cheek lightly, before his mouth hovered closer to mine. My stomach swooped in anticipation, then he pulled back just shy of my mouth, leaving me suspended. He was teasing, and he knew exactly what he was doing.
The car loomed beside us, traffic hummed by, and streetlights threw shadows across his face. The angles sharpened, his jaw cut in gold and shadow, and brown eyes, gone darker in the night, pinned me. It felt stupidly private for being out in the open. My heart thundered.
He let go of my hand and slid his arm around my waist, pulling me closer, then pressed his mouth to mine. I gripped his shoulders, needing something to hold onto as our mouths moved in sync.
When he finally pulled back, he kept me in his arms, holding me tight.
“See you soon?” he murmured into my ear.
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
He let go slowly, climbed into his car, and drove away.
I walked back toward the house, still tingling from his lips, my lungs fizzing as if I’d breathed in champagne. I thought I knew kisses as someone once engaged, but this one rewrote all of that. My heartbeat slowed, thick and sweet, and it seemed the night air had softened just for me.
As I reached the front porch stairs, Vince stepped out from the side of the house. I stopped in my tracks. He placed one foot on the driveway, hands in his pockets, and looked on.
“I thought you left,” I said.
He tilted his head slightly. “Dimmed lights, wide sky… Some things never get old, huh, Mel?” His eyes tracked the street where Sean’s car had disappeared.
My chest went tight, and I flushed. He remembered. I’d once told him my favorite kind of moment. No candles, no grand setting, but stars, cool air, and a shared breath.
Ha. Add ego and delete romance, and the sentence was complete.