Page 68 of Perfect Boy

24

Ryann

I’m anxious, and that never happens when it comes to dancing. This is just a show we’re putting on to raise some money for the dance program and a fun little treat for the public for the holidays. Something for people around the area to bring their kids to, to kick off the Christmas festivities.

And here I am, and I. Am. Shaking.

All because Watson freaking Gentry—also known as my husband—is somewhere in the crowd. I know him; his eyes won’t stray from me. They never do. And that right there scares the hell out of me. He makes me nervous. No guy has ever made me feel that way.

“You know, eventually, we’re going to have to talk about the fact that I had to learn through the grapevine you were married.” Poppy jabs her finger into my side. “Oh, and while we’re at it, how about we discuss why that intimidating dude has stopped at our house multiple times, looking for you and poking around about Watson?”

“Nothing to tell, chica.” I wink before cupping her cheeks aggressively. “You know, one day, we should do a Trolls play, and then you can be Poppy, and I can paint you pink.” My eyes widen, and I bring my nose closer to hers. “Oh, and you can sing and smile. And the best part, you can act happy!”

“Ew. No,” she says, pretending to gag. “Hard pass.”

I release her. Despite some debatable things she’s done, I love Poppy. She’s sassy and fierce. She’s been through more in her lifetime than anyone should have to go through, and in my eyes, she’s a warrior.

“You’ve seemed nervous all day.” Her eyes look me up and down, narrowing. “Why is Ryann Denver, queen of the whole fuck it motto, nervous for a performance that doesn’t count toward anything?” She throws her hand up. “It’s just for fun, so why do you look like you’re going to piss your leotard?”

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “Just want it to be perfect, I guess. You know, because a lot of moms brought their kids here. I want it to be good for them. After all, I’m the freaking Sugar Plum Fairy.”

She looks past me, and the corner of her lips teases into a smirk. “Ahhh, now, I know why you’re scared.” She pats me on the shoulder. “It’ll be fine. Besides, if you fall and break your asscheek, it’s not like he can divorce you for it. Right?” And then she prances off.

I spin around to see what she was talking about, and my eyes land on Watson. Who is now backstage and carrying two huge-ass bouquets of flowers. In a freaking delicious, sexy tux. Looking good enough to eat. Or lick. Or both.

“Sir, do you have clearance to be back here?” the director says, walking toward him like he’s about to throw his ass out. When, in reality, the director is smaller than me and Watson towers over him.

Watson looks completely unfazed as he continues to strut toward me. “Sure do. I need to deliver these flowers to someone. Her husband wanted her to have them before the show. And since his wife is the star of the show, it’s imperative she gets them before it starts.”

The director’s eyes widen, and he slowly nods. “Oh, okay. Uh…sorry,” he says nervously before walking off.

Looking me up and down, he pulls me toward him and presses his lips to the top of my head. “You look so fucking beautiful, Tiny Dancer.”

Tipping my head up, I surprise him when I catch his lips with mine. Kissing him as his free arm is slung around me. Pulling back, I grin up at him. “You look nice too. And I’m really, really happy to see you.”

His phone rings, and he releases me, grabbing it from his pocket. Grinning at the phone, he answers it and flips the screen. My sister waves frantically at me, and I’m cursing the fact that I already had my makeup done because there’s no stopping my tears from falling.

“Watson got clearance to have his phone on FaceTime for the performance,” she yells, basically leaping out of her skin. “I get to watch the entire thing!”

My hand flies to my mouth. Typically, phones aren’t allowed at performances like this one. Yet he went and got permission to use his, just so my sister could watch. All without me ever mentioning that, deep down, I wished she could somehow be here. And now, she is.

He’s too perfect.

“I love you so much!” I sniffle, looking at Riley. “I’m so happy you get to watch.” I wipe my eyes as delicately as I can. “Even though you’ll probably be bored out of your mind halfway through because I know you.”

“No way,” she says, shaking her head. “I’ll let you finish getting ready. Good luck. Break a leg!” She pauses, cringing. “Well, not literally. But…you know.”

Laughing, I nod. “Bye. I love you so much.”

“Love you more! Watson, call me when it’s time!” she says before her face disappears from the screen.

“Is there anything you don’t think of?” I ask him, in complete awe. “Seriously though.”

It’s like when God made him, he measured everything perfectly to make him completely flawless. It’s as incredible as it is terrifying. Because guys like him? I’m learning they aren’t easy to walk away from.

“Trust me, I fuck up much more than you think,” he mutters before handing me one of the huge bouquets of the most beautiful red roses.

“Thank you so much. They are gorgeous.” Closing my eyes, I inhale the strong smell and sigh. “And they smell so good.”

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