Page 79 of Just Act Natural

She disappears through a door behind the counter. I’m still trying to figure out who would send me a package to Oregon when someone interrupts my thoughts.

“Irwin? Of the Eastlake Irwins?”

I look to my right to see Josh leaning an elbow on the front desk counter wearing a lazy smile. His expressions run the whole gamut fromsmugtosmirk. Every single one just begs to be wiped off by someone’s fist.

“No.” I turn back to wait for Mrs. Callahan to return. This guy isn’t worth getting worked up over. Even if the memory of the things he said to Lila’s face the other day make me want to teach him a lesson in manners.

“Hey, no hard feelings, all right?” he says. “I hope you’ll be able to make Lila happy. It isn’t an easy job.”

His laughter has my hands balling into fists.

“She’s beautiful, but high maintenance.” He just doesn’t know when to quit.

“Was she? Or did you just not want to put in the effort?”

“Oh, I put in the effort. It was never enoughfor her. I just hope she doesn’t leave you at the altar like she did me.” He taps the counter twice. “Good luck.”

He walks away, leaving me with my chest caving in.

I pace my small cabin, the package I’d gone to retrieve unopened on the bed. My brain is a tangle of Josh’s smarmy warning on repeat, my stomach an ever-tightening knot. Lila wouldn’t have done that. Couldn’t have.

Would she?

The man is a slimeball through and through. She’s admitted it took him cheating before she finally got the courage to leave. I just have no idea the timeline there. Surely she wouldn’t have waited until their wedding day to call things off.

Some women do, though.

I want to hike, bike, run—anything to escape this ache hollowing me out.

She never described their breakup as leaving him at the altar. But would she? Would anyone willingly admit to doing something like that? She has a hard time admitting tough truths to people. I don’t think she would lie about it, but would she simply avoid telling me?

I sit down hard on the bed. I’ve done exactly that—I haven’t told her about my past, either. I can’t be upset with her for potentially glossing over the truth when I haven’t done any better.

Next to the package, my clothes still wait on the bed, ready for me to put them on and meet up with Lila. I drag my fingers through my hair, raking them over my scalp. I’m supposed to pretend to be her boyfriend in two hours. Put on a big show for her family and friends.

So far, I haven’t had to act in this fake dating scenario, but tonight, I just might.

I rip open the package that led to all of this. There’s no note, but it doesn’t need one.

It’s a bright red T-shirt with bold script that saysDo the Stupid Thing.

Maybe I am.

Twenty minutes later, I stand outside Lila’s apartment door. I texted asking if I could come by early, and she’d agreed. But now that I’m here, I don’t know if I’m ready for this conversation. I don’t want whatever we say to ruin what we have.

But I know well enough thatnottalking doesn’t solve anything.

Ready or not, I knock.

She pulls the door open, and I physically cannot draw in a breath for several seconds while I stare like my last two brain cells have fainted dead away.

Lila’s stunning. A soft, floral dress flows around her like a pink and orange cloud. Her hair is slightly curled, and a hint of makeup accentuates her cheeks and eyes. I want to stand here for a day to drink in the sight of her. I want to bend down and kiss her glossy lips. I breathe deep, and that sweet but spicy scent I’d caught on her before fills my lungs.

“You look magnificent,” I finally say. Because even though my stomach feels like a credit card stuck halfway through a paper shredder, I can’t say anything else.

Her smile is both a shot of adrenaline to my heart and a punch straight to my gut.

“Thank you. Come on in. It’s kind of…” She waves me inside. “Well, it is what it is, and it’s not great.”

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