Page 35 of Perfect Boy

When we auditioned for The Nutcracker, it was back in the first week of school, before Sutton transferred here. I have no doubt that if she had been there, she would have been chosen for the Sugar Plum Fairy instead of me. I’m a little envious that she doesn’t have the extra few practices a week to get ready for it now that the holidays are getting closer.

I glance up at the clock. Just five more minutes. I’m ready to get out of here and take a short nap before my afternoon class.

A pounding at the door has every head turning to look who it is. And when we all see Watson, Jolene shoots him daggers.

“Mr. Gentry, can I help you?” She moves her head back and forth. “As you can see, we’re still in the middle of practice. So, this’d better be good.”

He gives her one of his signature sweet, boyish grins. His dimple pops out, making most bitches in here weak in the knees. Even Jolene seems to soften instantly. Me? I cross my arms and narrow my eyes, wondering what in the hell he could be up to.

“So sorry, Miss Jolene,” he drawls smoothly. “You’re looking beautiful today. Y’all are.” He waves at the entire room, and I hear a few girls literally squeal.

When his eyes land on me, I cringe, knowing he’s here for me.

“Ryann and I talked about changing one of our moves. And, uh…I just wanted to ask her about that.” He gives Jolene an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry to interrupt. With hockey, my schedule is stacked, so I figured I’d run over here while I had a minute.” He smiles. “You know, since we’re so close to the fundraiser and all.”

“You don’t have a phone?” Jolene grumbles. “And why change anything this close to the performance? Are you guys trying to give me a heart attack?”

“No, ma’am.” He shakes his head. “It’s something super small. Swear it.”

Jolene’s eyes shift from Watson to me before going back to him. “Fine. Go.” She waves her hand. “But don’t you dare interrupt a practice again, Mr. Gentry. Or I’ll be talking to Coach LaConte.”

“No, ma’am, I won’t,” he tells her before his eyes land on mine.

I give him a confused look, but eventually, I grab my things and follow him out the door.

“What in the ever-loving God are you doing here? She’s going to have my—”

“Let’s get married,” he blurts out when we get outside.

I look around for Ashton Kutcher, wondering if I’m being punked. Or perhaps I heard him wrong. Yeah, that has to be it.

“Come again?” I gawk at him.

“I’d love to. But the studio’s occupied right now, so it’d be hard to sneak into the closet,” he teases.

I punch him in the stomach, and he keels over.

“Jesus Christ, you’re so dang feisty, woman!” He stands up, shaking his head. “What I was saying is…let’s get married.”

“And why the hell would we do that?” I scowl. “Have you lost your mind?”

He steps toward me, taking my hands in his. “Because you need a green card. And, hey, I’m sort of over getting attention from all the single…and taken women on campus. You’d be doing me a favor, really.” He gives me a small grin. “What do you say?”

“You’re mocking me, right? My whole needing a green card thing? You’re making it a joke?” I shrug, pulling my hands from his. “Well, sorry to be a party pooper, but joke’s over.”

I start to turn, but he grabs my arm, forcing me to look at him.

“I’m not joking. I one thousand percent mean what I’m saying.” He moves his hand to my wrist, enveloping it with his fingers. “What do you have to lose, Ryann?”

“Marriage is a big deal,” I whisper, gawking at him like he’s insane. And right now, I kind of think he might be. “I mean, not really to me. Because I’ve never even given it a thought. But to guys like you? It’s everything.” I narrow my eyes slightly. “Don’t you get that?”

“Why haven’t you given it a thought?” he asks softly.

“Because I don’t believe in all of that happily ever after marriage crap.” I shrug lazily. “I never have.”

“Well, that’s sad, Ryann.” He’s so relaxed, and I don’t understand how he could be. “But just because you refused to be my friend, basically used my dick for an orgasm, and hate the sight of me—that doesn’t mean I don’t consider you a friend of mine. Because I do.” He pauses. “I like you, Ryann. You’re badass. And to be honest, I’d be pretty fucking honored to have you as my wife. If you’ll have me, that is.”

“This is…crazy,” I say, thinking out loud. “Don’t you get how crazy this all is?”

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