Page 67 of The Misfit

If she’ll be able to handle it.

We’re more alike than different, but I’m still terrified she’ll decide I’m not worth it and run when she sees all of the dirty, broken pieces of my soul. It doesn’t matter. What’s real or fake. What she sees or doesn’t.

The moment I tell her about the event, she sends me a thumbs-up. I don’t know why, but I stupidly expected her to say something else or react another way.

Me:You’re still going to be my plus-one, right?

My heartbeat thunders in my ears while I wait for her response. It comes a second later.

Salem:Of course. Fake girlfriend to the rescue.

I drop the phone onto the couch and sag back against the cushions, hoping I don’t mess this up and praying I will somehow find a way to make her mine.

The days pass at a painstakingly slow pace. It’s like waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for the bad to happen because you know eventually it will. By the time Saturday arrives, I’m a bundle of nerves. I try to rein in my anxiety, which is even worse than usual, with the knowledge that Salem will need me far more than I need her today.

I wake up early, shower, shave, and head straight to Salem’s house. Noah answers the door before I can knock, his protective brother stance only slightly undermined by his basketball shorts and bedhead. His gaze quickly roams over me before dropping to the garment bag in my hands, then ping pongs over to the distinctive blue box from the glove designer.

“You know it’s seven a.m., right? Most people sleep in on the weekends.”

“Your sister is not like most people. She’s up at six every morning,” I reply, and his expression softens. Of course I know her schedule. I know all her patterns now.

“Seven on Saturdays,” Noah corrects but steps aside to let me in. “Except today—today she woke up at five a.m. and decided she needed to rearrange her closet to make room for the dress you sent her.”

Holy fuck. I never thought I’d be excited to watch someone try on a dress. Then again, I have yet to meet anyone else like Salem. “Has she tried it on yet?”

“Nope. Just been staring at it.” He closes the door, then fixes me with a serious look. “She’s nervous, man. About all of it. Your family, the event …”

“I know.” I adjust my grip on the packages, more determined than ever to ensure she has a good time this evening. “That’s why I’m here early. Thought it might be good to give her some time to process everything. Maybe answer any questions she has.”

Noah studies me for a long moment. Way longer than necessary. “You really care about her, don’t you?”

I don’t even bother answering his question. We both know I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t care. Thankfully, Salem’s voice drifts down from upstairs before I conjure up an answer.

“Noah? Who are you talking to?”

“Your fake boyfriend brought presents!” he calls back, emphasizing the“fake”in a way that makes me want to punch him.

There’s a squeak of latex from above, then the careful sound of Salem counting steps as she descends the stairs. One, two, three … all the way to twenty-seven. She appears around the corner, already dressed—soft gray sweater, perfect ponytail, fresh gloves.

“Lee?” Shock fills her brown eyes, which only grow wider when she notices the packages in my hands. “You didn’t have to come early.”

“Yes, I did.” I hold up the blue box. “These needed a proper presentation.”

Noah makes a gagging sound and retreats to the kitchen, leaving us alone in the foyer. Salem’s hands twist together, latex squeaking in that way that means she’s fighting anxiety.

“The dress is beautiful,” she whispers. “Too beautiful. Too much.”

“Pantry Girl, prepare to be amazed because you haven’t seen anything yet.” I set the garment bag aside and open the blue box. “These are the real stars of the show.”

Her breath hitches when I slowly pull out the first pair of gloves. The silk catches the morning light, the color of burgundy matched to ensure they look the same.

“May I?” I ask, holding them out.

She nods, extending one trembling hand. I don’t rush her, don’t push. I just wait while she counts her breaths.

One inhale.

Two exhales.

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