Page 4 of Imperfect Skin

“Could we not? My brother and his soon-to-be husband are waiting for us inside. Tonight is about them, not my fucked-up head.” I slipped my arm from his hold and moved to open the door, but Callum had to have the last word.

“You need to start letting us in. You’ve done a good job faking it in front of your dad and Simon, but I don’t buy it. You’re not alone in this.”

“I’m not your problem, Cal, or some project you can fix.” I pasted on a smile, trying to curb my instinctive irritation. “Come on. I promised Alice I’d dance with her, and you promised Rhys you’d sing tonight.”

Callum frowned for a moment, looking confused. “When did I promise a foolish thing like that?”

I slumped back in the seat. “New Year's, after you and Dad and Joe polished off that scrumpy Joe brought up from his place.”

Callum let out a deep groan—and fuck, didn’t that sound do things to me I’d rather ignore. “I didn’t. Did I?”

Reaching over, I slapped his shoulder and grinned. “You sure as fuck did.” I didn’t hide my amusement. Cal’s singing was a thing of local legend. Not that I’d ever heard it, unless the bawdy ballads and off-key eighties tunes he sang in the shower counted. Who knew the man was a closet Duran Duran fan? Besides, his discomfort got him off my case. Mildly underhanded? Yes, it was. I never claimed to be a good man.

“You can’t back out. Rhys is super excited and think about the sad face he’ll pull if you let him down. Kicked puppies have nothing on Rhys.” Yeah, was I overselling this, you bet. But I wanted to hear the man sing too, and this was a little bit of payback for being a nosey sod and trying to get me to open up.

It would be all too easy to let myself be bare and open with Callum Harris, but down that path lay heartbreak. I didn’t think I could bear to see the look on his face when he discovered the ugliness that lived inside of me. It was better to play the brat, to tease with no substance. To enjoy this quasi-domestic family thing but not trick myself into believing it was for keeps. I was good at this shit. I’d been doing it for years.

“I’ll even cheer when you start singing. Could even be convinced to throw my panties on stage if that would help.” I winked saucily and made my move to get out of the car while Callum stared, dumbfounded.

“There will be no knicker throwing,” Callum called after me.

I lifted my shirt and pulled my jeans down just enough to give Callum a peek at the emerald green lacy number I had on underneath. “What, not even these?”

“Mitchell Johannsen! What the hell are you doing?” My dad’s voice echoed across the car park, followed by Rhys’s unmistakable giggle.

“I think he’s giving Cal an eyeful, Pop.” Rhys squealed, running forwards to hug me. “What took you guys so long?” Rhys’s cheeks were flushed red, and his eyes were dancing. If I didn’t know him better, I’d say he’d gotten into the bubbly already.

“You don’t get to look this fab without taking some time.” I flicked my hair over my shoulder.

“Uh-huh, sure. Not like you were waiting for the Thunderbirds episode to finish or anything.” Rhys pressed his lips together, trying not to laugh.

“Okay sure, I might have had to make sure I watched the episode before I had my shower but that is beside the point. I look fab, and we are here on time.”

Rhys rolled his eyes and groaned before slinging an arm over my shoulder. “You do look amazing, but it doesn’t take away from the fact I was right and you had to watch Thunderbirds first.”

Declan and Peregrin walked past, shooting Rhys and I an amused look. Both guys were hotter than sin. Dec was the new therapist who’d set up his offices in Doc’s spare consulting rooms. Rhys had been seeing him professionally to help him deal with the shit his dad had done. He seemed like a good bloke, but I tended to keep my distance. I swore therapists and the like could smell unhealthy coping mechanisms a mile away, and I didn’t need him digging into mine. Peregrin was the new hairdresser whose salon sat alongside Doc’s practice. The man was strikingly beautiful, with ink that even had Cal drooling. He and Rhys had become fast friends, and for whatever reason he was Doc’s worst nightmare. It was hilarious to watch our grumpy Doc become flustered and annoyed in the same breath when talking to Perry.

“Itquay onyay ethay underbirdsthay!” I hissed at Rhys, flashing a smile at Dec and Perry.

“Pig Latin, dude? Really? Are we in high school?” Rhys huffed, amused, lowering his voice as the two men walked past. “Aren’t they a little young for your tastes?”

“A man should have a little variety in his diet, short stuff.” I threw in my usual dig at my height advantage. It might not have been much, but I owned that fucker.

Rhys gasped in outrage, standing up straighter and still being shorter than me. “Half an inch! That’s all you have on me. Besides, fun things come in small packages.”

I tilted my head and arched a brow. “I wouldn’t know about your package, but the way big brother was screaming your name at Christmas, I wouldn’t be too ashamed of it.”

“You’re terrible. But yeah, I made Daddy yell,” Rhys said with a proud smirk. Fuck, I loved this guy. He and my brother were a match made in fucking heaven, if you believed in that sort of thing.

Rhys and I headed into the hall that was full already. Half the town had come out to celebrate Simon and Rhys’s engagement.

Rhys looked over to where Dec and Perry were chatting with Doc Cullen and Simon, a small frown on his face. “Would you really want to, you know… with one of them?” Rhys asked.

“Dec and Perry? A guy would have to be blind and celibate not to get half a chub looking at them. But nah, I don’t see either of them being a fling type of guy.” I looked around and lowered my voice. “Besides, I’ve got a date later tonight.”

Rhys grabbed a glass of fruit punch off the table. “With who?”

“Ziggy,” I answered, waiting for Rhys’s reaction.

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