Page 13 of The Puck Decoy

I scoff at him, yet still it takes everything I have to keep my hand steady as I slowly reach out and take the box from his hand. He doesn’t move away like I expect him to, even when I take it. Instead he keeps his eyes on mine as I slowly open the box and reveal the most beautiful piece of jewelry I have ever seen in my entire life.

I’m not sure what I ever expected in an engagement ring, but it’s as if he climbed inside my brain and curated the most perfect design for me from the very essence of my desires. There is a large oval diamond sitting in the center, with green sapphire petals perched on either side of it, all set on a shiny platinum band. It’s simple and elegant, and takes my breath away completely.

“I don’t know what to say,” I tell him truthfully, not trusting myself to not get emotional. “It’s so beautiful it almost looks real,” I add in a whisper, still just staring at it, and to my surprise he drops to his knees before me.

“Don’t insult me, Hallie, of course it’s real,” he snaps, rolling his eyes as if the idea of having a fake ring for a fake marriage is totally ridiculous, yet still I say nothing. “I know it’s no ring pop, but as soon as I saw it, I thought of you,” he tells me innocently, not realizing he is making the heart that beats for him and onlyhim, soar even higher. “LikeTinkerbellin a ring,” he laughs, taking the box back from my hand and plucking the ring from it.

The very real ring with three very real, very huge, gemstones.

Then he reaches out and takes my left hand, slowly pushing the ring into place for where it will remain for who knows how long. It’s as if that thought resonates with both of us, because as soon as it’s on my finger we both just pause and stare at it for a few seconds, and then when our gazes collide it’s like something shifts between us. Like this ring, and this lie, will change everything. I see something in his eyes similar to the day on the rock when he tried to kiss me, and just like that day I panic and shoot to my feet.

“Okay, so if you’re sorting the wedding stuff out, then talk to me about your dad,” I blurt, forcing myself to breathe deeply as I pretend to casually move around his room.

I ignore his sigh, and don’t watch him get back to his feet, and before he even speaks I can feel the coldness seeping back in. “I can handle my father, leave it to me.” Words I have heard a hundred times before, and they sound less believable every time.

“No,” I tell him flatly, and when I turn back towards him I find him watching me as if he misheard me. “That’s right, I said no. Someone dares to have the audacity to say no to the golden boy.” I throw his family nickname out and feel a little regret when I see him flinch, but I push on. “I’m in this now, Joshua, whether you like it or not you brought me in, so let me in, let me help,” I plead, moving towards him and pretending I don’t feel the weight of his ring on my finger. “Not just as your almost wife, but as your best friend,” I add, using a title I haven’t dared to use in years.

Josh stares at me, absorbing every one of my words until he sighs, “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that right?”

“And yet you want to marry me, so it sounds like you’re the problem to me,” I fire back, and he laughs, shaking his head,sitting on the bed and gesturing for me to take a seat on the chair by his desk.

“So I think we can both agree my dad is an asshole,” he starts, and I don’t bother voicing my agreement, Josh knows how I feel about Hugo Peters, and it isn’t pretty. “Well I’ve been watching him for years, waiting for him to trip up, just so I could have something, anything on him, and I think I finally found it.”

My interest is fully piqued, because if anyone needs knocking down a peg or two, it’s the Mayor. “What did you find?”

“I’m not sure exactly. I heard him talking in his office a few weeks back, before I offered myself up to him, about making new deals even if he has to wait for a return on his investment. It was then I saw some papers on his desk that looked like they were from an offshore account, but before I could get a good look he came back. Then I knew I needed help, so I asked around, disguised my interest for what I needed until I was given a name.” He leans back and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a piece of paper and handing it to me.

“Lincoln Blackwell?” I read out loud, the name not sounding familiar at all. “Who is he?” I ask, returning my stare to Josh, and he shrugs.

“Apparently he is the go-to guy for finding shit out and getting shit done. He works over in Black Hallows, and only takes meetings in person if he deems you worthy.” I’d say Josh almost sounds impressed by him and his reputation, and I wonder if he is jealous about the fact.

“And are you worthy?” I ask, not joking, but he smiles anyway, standing and walking over to where I sit at his desk, spinning my chair, and leaning down beside me to open his laptop.

“Let’s find out.” I ignore his scent as it surrounds me, the heat of his arm as it presses against my own, and watch as he opens up a new email thread, writes a quick summary aboutneeding his services, and then uses the information on the piece of paper to send it away.

“Now what?” I ask, and I feel his answering shrug against me.

“Now, we wait.”

We spend the next few hours making a variety of plans. Plans to be seen together more, plans on how to handle his father over the next few weeks given we are about to botch the very plans he’s made himself, and even having a silent and almost completely awkward dinner with Daemon. Josh fills the silence with chatter about their upcoming hockey game of course, something I have presumed he must do often for his teammate, and then Josh offers to drive me home. We bumped into Landon on our way out, who seemed to be confused as to why I wasn’t staying over given the bomb we dropped on him earlier in the night, and I quickly lied about an early workout class. Something which Josh almost cackled at, given I haven't worked out a day in my life aside from the hockeygames I have played with him. Then we were on our way across campus.

The drive is silent yet comfortable, and as always Josh takes the scenic route around the lake that runs by my house, while I try not to think about the weight of what I am actually doing by marrying him. When we pull up in the driveway we both spy Hector’s car by the sidewalk, and the lights on in the house, meaning Maddie is clearly inside.

“Do you want me to come in?” Josh asks, staring at the house, and I’m almost certain he and Maddie haven’t spoken since their argument on Saturday night, which is probably the longest they have ever gone without speaking.

“What, so I can try and play referee again? No thank you,” I tell him, no stranger to their feuds over the years given my close proximity to both of them. I reach down and grab my bag as I add, “So I will see you on…” I let the sentence trail off, thinking he will adhere to our arrangement of being seen together, given the plans we made.

“Saturday,” he confirms quickly, still half-distracted by the house, yet still I almost laugh. Of course, a few hours together isn’t going to change his personality of being a complete asshole the majority of the time, so I’m not sure why I thought becoming his fiancée might make him any different.

“Right, yeah, of course, Saturday.” I roll my eyes with a fake smile as I fling open his car door and climb out, before leaning down and adding, “I’ll be the one in the wedding dress, just text me the details I guess.” Then before he can say anything in defense, I slam the door and move to leave.

“Hals,” he shouts, opening his door, and I can hear his footsteps behind me. “Hallie, wait please.”

I pause, turning on the spot to look at him and he almost slams right into me as I snap in frustration, “What, Joshua?”

He opens his mouth but nothing comes out at first, as if he had no idea what he was going to say to me, but he came after me anyway, and then he sighs. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m not used to having to lean on someone else and it’s going to take some getting used to.”

It’s more of an apology than anyone else would ever get, but I’m not letting him off that easily. “Josh, we’ve been friends for over a decade, that excuse isn’t going to fly with me, not as your best friend, and certainly not as your fiancée,” I tell him, putting my hands on my hips and standing my ground, because this isn’t how our marriage is going to be, fake or not.

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