Page 44 of Perfect Boy

Ryann

Watson and I stand behind the curtain, my hand in his as we wait for it to be our turn. My heart’s pumping like crazy, and when I look over at him, I can tell he’s nervous. Which is something I’ve never seen when he’s on the ice.

We haven’t talked about last night, though every time I think about it, my body feels jittery. Something about doing what we did, in an open parking lot, where people could see us…so freaking hot.

Squeezing his hand in mine, I smile. “You’re going to do great. Time to show ’em what you got, Gentry.” I wink just before the music comes on and the curtain rolls up.

Morgan Wallen’s smooth voice floats through the air as his new version of “Spin You Around” plays, and we start to dance. It’s such a beautiful tune with the perfect melody for our performance, though I’m pretty sure we’re the only pair dancing to a country song.

Unlike Cade and Poppy’s song, ours is much more romantic. Just like Sutton and Hunter’s is going to be. It isn’t a bad thing. But this dance, well, it’s our first dance as husband and wife.

The first time we’re dancing as newlyweds, and it’s for a fundraiser in front of thousands of people. All of whom don’t even know we’re married.

He looks so handsome tonight. And even though he’s a big, brooding hockey player, he’s absolutely killing his performance. I might have initially complained when I learned I had to work with a puck boy, but it’s obvious Watson can master any skill he sets his mind to.

For the next few minutes, my entire body feels like it’s floating in the clouds. We move seamlessly across the stage, and his eyes remain on mine for the entire thing. And when the song comes to an end, I twirl into his arms, and he holds me before dipping me down. The curtain is closed when his lips hover over mine. He’s so close. All I’d have to do is move my head an inch upward, and our lips would touch.

It’s like a magnetic force is pulling me toward him. And I so badly want to stop fighting it and just kiss him. After all, he is my husband, for God’s sake.

Jolene’s loud clapping brings us both back to reality, and he slowly pulls me to stand straight up.

My legs are shaky, and I don’t know if it’s from the performance or from Watson’s lips being so close to mine.

“Good job,” I whisper, my palm patting his chest. “Proud of you, Gentry.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Gentry.” He grins before taking my hand and leading me off the stage.

Watson

What started as a really good night ended up being awful. Shortly after Hunter and Sutton’s performance, she collapsed. It turns out, she has asthma and had a severe attack that landed her in the hospital.

Ryann is pale as a ghost, her makeup now smudged all over her face from crying. She’s scared. That girl is her best friend.

She sits in the waiting room chair, her legs tucked under her with my Brooks hoodie on. I could tell she was freezing in her leotard thing, and I couldn’t stand the sight of her shivering, so I grabbed my sweatshirt from my truck and put it on her.

I throw my arm around her and pull her toward me, thankful that we are sitting on one of those chair benches rather than a regular chair, where there would be an armrest between us. She melts against me, tucking herself into my side, and I hear her sniffle.

“Hey,” I whisper, looking down at her. “She’s going to be okay, I promise.”

She nods slowly, but the tears only flow more. Burying her face into my side, she shakes. There’s nothing I can do to make this better. Her best friend is unconscious, being kept alive by machines, while we all wait out here to see what is going to happen. All I can do is hold her and tell her it’s going to be all right.

Even if I don’t know if it really is going to be all right. And our marriage is fake, but I still want to do my part as her husband and somehow take her pain away. Maybe she didn’t mean those vows, but I did.

It’s been hours since we got here, and I’ll sit here as long as Ryann wants to. But I hope I can get her to go home and at least try to get some rest at some point. She’ll need it.

Ryann

I’m so tired, but my mind just won’t shut off. Yet my body, well, the thing is completely done for. I suppose a performance like the one Watson and I did and then watching your best friend’s body go lifeless in front of you will do that though. I know I need to sleep, but I can’t leave. She hasn’t woken up yet.

I remain snuggled against Watson. He feels so good. Too good really. I mean, are fake husbands really supposed to feel this cozy? I think not.

“Hey,” Watson mutters against the top of my head. “I think it would be good for you to go home, just for a little while. I promise, as soon as she wakes up, someone will call us. I’ll make sure of it.”

I shake my head gently. “No, I can’t leave.” My voice cuts out, my throat burning with every word that comes from my lips. “What if…” I stop, sucking in a breath.

“What if she doesn’t wake up?” he says, finishing my sentence. “She will, Ryann. She’s strong.”

“You don’t know that,” I croak out. “No one knows that.”

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