Page 38 of Perfect Boy

“Ryann, I know you don’t like me all that much. And I get that you think what happened between us weeks ago was a mistake. But it wasn’t a mistake to me. Not at all. And I want to get to know you. I want to know everything about you, even the shit you keep hidden.” He stops, swallowing. “I know enough to know that even though you claim you didn’t have a dream wedding day, if you did, this wouldn’t be it. And I know I’m not the man of your dreams. I’ve come to accept that. But if you’d do me the honor of being my wife, even if it’s just for a short time, I’d consider myself the luckiest bastard in the universe.”

More tears build in my eyes before rolling down my cheeks. He’s so kind. So thoughtful. So selfless. And it isn’t that he’s not my dream guy. If I had one, I’m sure he’d be it. I’ve just been so consumed with trying to push him away; that way, I couldn’t get hurt. If I let him in, I know I’d fall—hard. And that’s not something I want to do right now.

I did not expect him to do all of this. I guess I should have because it’s Watson and he lives to make others happy. But on this day, I guess I just figured we’d go inside, take care of business, and then that would be it. I never foresaw him showering me with the most beautiful gifts or getting down on one knee. Yet here he is.

He really is full of surprises.

I stare in complete awe. Whatever this man is made of, it’s something I never knew even existed.

Holding my hand out, I nod. “I would be honored to be your fake wife, Watson Gentry.” I smile. “I consider myself pretty lucky for it too.”

He seems surprised by my words. Then again, why wouldn’t he be? For weeks, I’ve done my very best to keep him at arm’s length, not wanting a repeat of the closet situation because I didn’t want to allow myself to get hurt again.

When he slides the ring onto my finger, my entire body feels it. Every nerve ending ignites. And every part of me is aware of his existence.

Slowly, he pushes himself to stand. Pulling a chain from under his shirt, he reaches around to unclasp it and pulls something from it. He hands me a dark silver-colored band, and his face grows somber. “That was my dad’s wedding band. I was lucky enough to be the one who got it out of the four of us kids.” He nods toward his hand. “Use this in there.”

Looking down at his hand, my eyes float to his, and I feel a knot in my stomach. “Watson, that ring means…everything to you and your family. Don’t waste it on me.”

“It’s not a waste, Ryann.” His expression grows even more serious. “Trust me, this isn’t a day I would ever want to forget.” Jerking his head across the road, he smiles. “Let’s go get hitched. Before you go and change your mind.”

And when he holds his hand out, I take it. And the crazy part is…it doesn’t even feel wrong.

Ryann

Over an hour later, here we are, about to be hitched.

Upon arrival, we learned that we needed two witnesses for anyone to marry us. Neither of us were planning to tell anyone about this arrangement right away, so asking someone like Sutton or one of Watson’s closest friends was off the table.

Watson’s younger brother, Carson, just so happened to be nearby because, apparently, he’s some drag racer who has a race twenty minutes from Brooks tomorrow night. The two of them had planned to meet up at some point while he was in Georgia, but twenty minutes after Watson made the call—the awkward, shocking I need you to be my witness call—Carson strutted in.

And, wow, it seemed good-looking men ran in the family. Because, like Watson, he was insanely attractive.

They whispered for a few minutes. I could tell Carson was confused, but he didn’t try to talk Watson out of it. Which I appreciated, but also kind of wished he had at the same time.

I’m so scared that Watson is going to wake up tomorrow and hate himself for doing this. And regret it. Regret me.

And I called the only person I knew who wouldn’t judge me. Okay, she might judge me, but I knew she wouldn’t talk me out of it. And given the fact that she was an absolute hermit…I knew she wouldn’t tell anyone.

I called Zoey.

I’d met Zoey last year when I was waiting tables. She’s some sort of math major. She tried to explain what she’s studying, but it was over my head. We don’t hang out much, but I like her. And more importantly, given some things I learned about her last year at the diner, I know she’ll keep this secret.

Her chestnut-brown hair falls below her shoulders, and her blunt bangs give her a bit of an edgy look, though I don’t think that was done purposely.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the older lady in the business suit says, keeping her face extremely emotionless. “You may now kiss the bride.”

My eyes widen, and Watson looks noticeably uneasy. We kissed that day at Club 83. Only because he was trying to get it through Denton’s tough skull that I had moved on. And on the day we hooked up in the closet. And that was only because we were both sex-crazed in the moment. But this…this is different. It’s intimate, and it’s in front of people.

And for some reason, it feels like our first kiss. I guess it is in some way because it’s our first kiss as husband and wife. But it makes me feel…exposed.

As if feeling the woman’s stare, Watson leans down. Cupping my face with his hand, he brings his lips to mine. My eyes flutter shut, and I let myself travel to a place where we aren’t two people who just committed a crime. But instead, just two people kissing. As he kisses me, my entire body floods with butterflies. And when he finally pulls back and I force my eyes to open back up, I find myself wishing it could have lasted longer.

“Our first kiss as husband and wife, babe.” He winks, as if trying to lighten my mood and play it off like everything is normal. Nothing to see here. “Hope I did okay.”

I nod quickly. “Uh, you did…yeah. It was good.”

As if reading me like a book, knowing I’m hot and bothered, he smirks. “Good, Tiny Dancer. There will be more of that later.”

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