Page 41 of Perfect Boy

“Where are you off to?” Poppy asks when she sees me looking out the front window, waiting for Watson to pull in at any second.

Even though he didn’t really want to go to his brother’s race, he agreed to go for me. I’ve never seen anything like street racing, and I’m intrigued.

“Just out for a bit,” I say just as Watson’s truck pulls into the driveway and I reach for the doorknob.

Glancing out the window, Poppy gives me a sly smile. “Maybe you’re not so annoyed with your dance partner these days, huh?”

“We’re friends,” I gripe. “See you later!” I close the door, not giving her a chance to say or ask anything else.

We all had dress rehearsal today, and it’s hard to believe that after tomorrow, we won’t be dancing with the hockey players anymore. I think I might miss it; we’ve had a lot of fun—even if some of it was pure torture.

I start toward his truck, and he waves. Even through the tinted windows, I can see him beaming at me. Just like he always does. And when I climb up into the truck, I suddenly feel bashful. Like I did at rehearsal earlier.

Even though the marriage isn’t real, it still made everything between us shift. How could it not change our dynamic? It’s hard not to look at the man as a martyr when he did such a selfless thing for me.

“Hey, wifey.” He winks as I pull my seat belt on. “Ready for some drag racing?”

I nod, unable to stop the smile that spreads across my face. “I think so. Are we picking up Zoey?”

He cringes. “Uh…I think she’s already with my brother.” He glances over at me. “Sorry, looks like you’re stuck with me alone tonight.”

“Oh boy.” I giggle.

But something inside of me flutters when I realize we’ll be all alone. If we start to have sex randomly, how will the line dividing this marriage between a fake one and a real one not blur? I don’t want it to blur. I need it to stay crisp and bold.

Putting the truck in reverse, he backs out of the driveway and speeds down the street. Even in the passenger seat, I inhale his scent. He always smells so dang yummy.

We might have danced together for the past however many weeks, hooked up in a closet, and gone out a few times as sort of friends, but we’re still basically strangers. I don’t know his favorite color or what his first pet’s name was. Or if he even had pets, growing up. Maybe he’s like me and never had the luxury of a furry friend. I don’t know if he prefers dogs to cats or summer to winter. Heck, I only know his middle name is Matthew because the officiant said it during our ceremony.

I’m married to a man who seems perfect. But I don’t know him. And he certainly doesn’t know me. Not enough to do what he did.

After visiting Carson, his pit crew, and Zoey for a bit, Watson and I make our way to the fence and stand against it, waiting for the race to begin. I didn’t want to leave Zoey, but Carson was pretty determined that she stay close by him and his crew tonight, and she didn’t object. In fact, she seemed more than ok with it. I don’t really know what to expect out of this night. A part of me is nervous. I’ve only ever seen races on short videos, never in person.

“Have you ever wanted to do this?” I ask him, turning my head toward him.

“Race?” He shakes his head. “Nah, no way. Being on the ice is more than enough adrenaline for me.” He laughs. “My brother, he lives for this. Been like that his whole life. Even when he was a kid, nothing was ever fast enough for Carson.”

“Is he your only sibling?” I blush. “How insane is it that we’re married and I have to ask you that?”

“Totally normal,” he says jokingly. “And, no, I have two brothers and a sister. Nora is the oldest. Then Jameson, Carson, and me.”

“Aww, the baby,” I coo, reaching up and giving his cheek a tiny pinch. “Baby Watty.”

“Very funny,” he drawls in that damn Southern accent that I’ve come to find some strange comfort in. “What about you? I know you have a little sister. Is it just the two of you?”

“As far as I know. Then again, neither of us knows our dad, and our mom trades boyfriends more than I hear the infamous Cade Huff used to trade women. So, the jury is still out,” I attempt to joke, but quickly wonder why the heck I blurted that out. “But, yes, it’s just Riley and me.”

As soon as he opens his mouth to answer, the sound of engines roars through the air, making it impossible to talk. Moments later, two cars fly by us, and when I lean forward to see them cross the finish line, their parachutes come out.

“Care to make this night interesting, husband?” I wink.

“I’m listening,” he drawls. “Whatcha got in mind?”

“I’m too broke to bet much. How about a dollar each race? We each pick who we think is going to win.”

“If you don’t want to bet money, we could bet something else.” He shrugs. “Might make it more interesting.”

My mouth hangs open. “Are you trying to make a sex exchange with me?”

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