Page 110 of Out of Bounds

"I’m Donna and—oh my god—you are just so gorgeous, look at you! Ryan wasn’t exaggerating atall. Those cheekbones, my goodness. Aren’t you so pretty? Let me take a look at you. Oh my—"

She pushed me back and her eyes twinkled, taking me in.

The realization hit me like a hammer.

Oh my god.

"You’re…Ryan’s mom," I said, my voice small.

"I’m only here for a couple of hours—did you know Cleo and Miles are getting married? I remember when I justmetCleo, stomping across the field in those heels—goodness gracious—I plan weddings, did Ryan tell you? He did? Back in the day, I just held up skirts and played the organ but now—"

My heart slammed in my chest with every word she blurted out. Donna skipped over words, blew past others, and combined a couple at a time into a kind of word soup while she talked about Cleo’s wedding and the weather and how pretty she thought I was and the weather again and Ryan and how beautiful she thought I was.

I didn’t say two words.

I couldn’t have anyway. A hard lump settled in my throat.

"But how are your classes?" She beamed at me and ushered me over to the couch in Cleo’s War Room. "When Ryan told me he had to model for an art class—model—oh, I laughed so hard, I thought I was going to spill my coffee and—oh, yourclasses. Kassie, how are yourclasses?"

I drew in a shaky breath. "They’re—they’re good."

"You can’t let me talk over you, it’s a horrible habit." She winked at me and my throat closed up again. Sneaking a quickpeek to the left, she dropped her voice, like she wanted to share a secret. "We’re so excited to have you for Christmas. We all can’t wait to meet you."

"Christmas?" I repeated, my voice faint.

For the last seven years, I’d worked every Christmas for the full week. The holiday pay was always fantastic and it wasn’t like my grandma or anyone else I stayed with ever really celebrated it anyway.

"I make stockings for the family.It’s my favorite thing," she told me with a little wiggle of her shoulders. "Is Kassandra with a C or a K? I can start sewing—" she snapped her fingers, “just like that!”

Think of something. Say something!

"You make stockings for…all of Ryan’s girlfriends?"

For a moment, Donna gaped at me, and hard laughter burst out of her. "All ofwhat?What’s my son been telling you? What other girlfriends? Oh, when he said he had someone to introduce, I thought he was playing a joke! You know him. He’s very—he’s bristly, isn’t he?" She grinned at her choice of an adjective. "Like a porcupine. That’s my baby."

I knew one thing for certain. Donna had no idea about the fake relationship contract. Zero clue. And when I’d signed the dotted line—and initialed on eighty other pieces of paper—I never, ever, ever thought I’d have to lie to someone’smotherabout it. I never thought she’d be so excited to see me or that she’d keep grabbing my hand to squeeze while she talked about Christmas traditions at their house.

I tried looking as normal as possible, like I wasn’t getting punched in the gut over and over again.

Ryan didn’t even tell his mom about the fake relationship. Personal and business, completely separate. Every day I found out that the football player was more cutthroat than I imagined.

At the beginning of the semester, I could’ve dealt with this. It would’ve been uncomfortable but I could’ve shrugged my shoulders through it.

Now?

There was a version of Ryan that I thought I knew, a mirror, an illusion, and it was so hard separatingthatfrom the team captain of the Romans.

"Are you a big tree decorator?" his mom asked eagerly. “We can hold off until you two drive up!”

"I—uh…"

What do I say?

I couldn’t even remember the last time I decorated a Christmas tree off the clock.

Donna was so lovely and so wonderful and sowarm. And even if she and Ryan were polar opposites, there were little things she did that reminded me so much of him, it was hard to keep breathing. I could lie to so many people but how could I lie to her?

I swallowed. "It…depends on Ryan’s schedule."

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