Page 70 of Perfect Boy

“Thanks to her life choices and always providing the proof that fairy tales weren’t real, I couldn’t even see what was in front of me for so long. And when I finally saw it, I didn’t feel worthy.” I sniffle. “I still don’t feel worthy of you, Watson. I don’t know if I ever will. But for the longest time, I looked at you like you were just another person out to hurt me. But the truth is, you’re the one who has put me back together. You’re the person who’s made me feel like I can trust again.” I pause, running my hand nervously over my head. I’ve never been good at being vulnerable. It’s always scared me too much. “And to think…we’re just supposed to be fake married. But I don’t know, Watson. This just doesn’t seem so fake to me now.”

His eyes fly to mine before he reaches for me, pulling my face closer to his and kissing me.

“You are worthy of every single thing good, Ryann. It’s me who shouldn’t feel worthy of you. And I know I’m not. But as long as you’ll let me, I’m going to spend my life trying to be.”

He said my life. He’s thinking about spending forever with me.

“Everything about you—good, bad, embarrassing—I want to know all of it.” He cups my cheeks. “And I promise you this: There is nothing fake about us. Never has been either. At least, not on my end.”

I’m so close to telling him what I so desperately feel inside. I love you. It’s only three words. Three tiny words. It should be so easy but it terrifies me. Besides, maybe he doesn’t even feel that way back. Who really knows? If he did, he would have said it. He’s that type of guy.

“What are you most scared of in this world?” I blurt out. Though I really don’t know why.

His eyes travel somewhere else before he speaks. “Having everyone see me as someone who’s bound to achieve greatness. And then losing it all.” He swallows. “Yeah, I might have a spot in the NHL. For now. But a lot could happen. And I’m scared to let my family down.”

“You couldn’t let your family down if you tried,” I whisper. And even though I’m secretly dreading going home with him, I smile. “And I can’t wait to meet them. And to see where you came from. And meet your mom. The woman who brought my husband up.”

The second the words leave my mouth, his lips crash to mine, and he slides his hand into my hair.

He’s given me everything, and I’ve given him crumbs. But no more.

I’m ready to go all in. Even if it blows up in my face down the road.

Watson Gentry will be worth the pain.

25

Ryann

It’s Christmas Eve, and we’re in Alabama. Watson had practice early this morning, but won’t have another until the day after Christmas. And LaConte even made it at night. Which means we get to stay here for a few days.

“Thanks for coming back home with me,” Watson says as we continue driving. “I talked to my mama the other night, and she’s pretty dang excited that one of her sons is bringing a girl home.”

“I bet,” I murmur, but my stomach sinks further. I feel like I might actually vomit, but I push the thought aside and attempt to seem comfortable.

In my head, a picture plays of him telling his mother I’m his wife. She takes one look at me in my ratty clothes and worn-out sneakers and drags my ass outside and sends me hiking back to Georgia.

And to be honest, I wouldn’t blame her.

She’s likely never even heard him mention my name, and here I am, showing up at their Christmas as his freaking wife.

And then there’s the even worse part—where everyone there will feel bad that they didn’t get me a gift because they didn’t know I was coming until the last minute. When, really, gifts would make me feel uncomfortable because how the hell would I give them one back? With Watson, it’s different. And maybe that’s because he never expects anything in return. That’s just another thing about him that sets him apart from most of humanity.

“Do we have time to swing into a mall or something on the way there?” I think about the two hundred dollars in my pocket from my last shift. I know I want to get his mom a gift, but I want to get him something too.

He looks at the clock on the dash. “Oh, yeah, plenty of time. LaConte had practice at the ass crack of dawn to give those of us traveling time to get home. And there’s actually a mall just twenty minutes from the house.”

“Sweet,” I say, looking out the window at the miles of nothingness along the highway.

I have no idea what to get Watson. I don’t know what he needs or even likes. But I know his mom loves candles and wax warmers. Maybe Watson can help me choose her gift.

Taking my phone out, I read Riley’s message. According to her, my mom is cooking them a nice dinner for Christmas Day, and then they are going to look at Christmas lights. That makes me happy for my sister, but nervous at the same time. Nervous that it won’t actually happen. And somewhere in the deep, uglier part of my soul, maybe I’m a little envious that my mom couldn’t have decided to be a parent when I was still around. But I shake the feeling off, reminding myself Riley is who matters right now. And if she’s happy, I am happy too.

I guess I’m trying to be more like Watson and just be more positive.

My mom sent me a message the morning after The Nutcracker. A message that I almost didn’t believe could be from her. The same woman who had left me and my sister home alone for three days while her boyfriend at the time took her on a getaway.

In the message, she said how proud she was of me. And how beautifully I danced. At the end, it said, I love you, Ryann. I hope you know that.

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