Page 117 of Play Pretend

“No. Way.”

He laughed again, but my mind was reeling. Ronan had liked me all this time? For all these years?

“Shortcake,” Ronan called, and I reluctantly pulled my gaze from his brother’s mocking face. “Come here. I want to show Mom everything you brought her.” He set the basket on the counter and pulled the cloth off the top.

My hands shook as I set the glass back down, abandoning the untouched drink. All I could think about, all I could focus on, was the fact that Ronanlikedme long before this fake relationship ever started. And I liked him.

How different could our lives had been if we’d started off on the right foot? If I’d tried harder to be his friend—if he’d askedme out years ago? Maybe we could’ve been together all this time. Maybe we could?—

“Willow has been working on these tarts for…what? A couple weeks now, right?” Ronan said, interrupting my thoughts. I blinked as he rested his hand on my back again, and I leaned into his touch, needing to feel him close.

It didn't matter how long wecould’vebeen together. We were together now.

“Um, actually, a bit longer,” I muttered. “But I think I’ve perfected them in the last few weeks—with your help, of course.” He rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t do anything but eat them,” he said, and I grinned at him.

“That’s the most important part.”

“I bet he’sgreatat eating,” Brynne said, her voice carrying to every corner of the kitchen.

“Gross!” Trinity cried. “That’s my brother!” She playfully shoved her best friend as she pretended to gag. “If you can’t behave yourself, I’m gonna kick you out.”

“No, please, don’t behave yourself,” Theo piped up, sliding onto the stool beside her. “You know, I’ve been told I’m great at eating, too. I could show you sometime.”

“Thanks, but I’d rather let Trinity go down on me than ever let you near my?—”

“Oh my god,” Trinity groaned, dragging her hands down her face. “I donoteat bearded clams.”

“It’s not bearded, baby,” Brynne said, grinning.

Theo leaned closer, resting his shoulder against hers. “It’s not? I need proof.”

“Fuck off,” she laughed, playfully shoving him.

His head fell back on his shoulders as he laughed with her, but I couldn’t help but notice the way Brynne’s eyes lingered on him for a moment too long before she turned back to Trinity.They put their heads together as they scrolled on her phone, laughing and whispering about something, but every so often, her gaze flicked back to him.

“Oh, how did you know I love Gracie’s Mexican Wedding Cookies?” Demi said, snatching one up. “These are the best cookies I’ve ever eaten in my life.”

“They’re my favorite cookies, too!” I jolted a step forward. “She won’t share the recipe with me, though. If we run out, she has to be the one to make them.”

“She always was secretive about her recipes,” she laughed. Something akin to sadness flitted over her face, but it was there and gone so quickly, I thought I imagined it. “Anyway. Are you hungry? I made a feast.”

“Everything looks great, Mom,” Ronan said. “You know, Willow is an amazing cook, too. She’s been cooking dinner the last few nights—” I jabbed my elbow into his ribs, and he grunted out a breath. “What? You have been.”

Demi didn’t seem to mind her son’s praise and gestured toward the food lining the counter. “Boys, start taking the food to the table. Girls, you know the drill. Plates and silverware. Willow, honey, can you grab the pitcher of water from the fridge?”

Everyone jumped to follow orders, and in just a few minutes, we were sitting at the long table in the dining room. A chandelier hung overhead, the lighting low and warm. Demi sat at the head of the table, Theo on one side, and Ronan on the other. Trinity was sandwiched between Brynne and Theo, but she didn’t seem to mind. All she could focus on was Brynne’s phone.

“So, Willow, Ronan said your family is coming to visit this weekend,” Demi said, scooping a mound of mashed potatoes onto her plate. Ronan roughly cleared his throat as he sliced into the roasted chicken before putting some on my plate.

“Yes.” I smoothed my hands over the cloth napkin in my lap. “They’re coming to celebrate my birthday.”

“Hell yeah,” Theo said. “What are you gonna do? Please tell me you’re gonna do something more fun than go to The Taphouse. How old are you turning?”

I let out a small laugh. “Twenty-seven,” I said, and he whistled.

“Robbing the cradle a bit there, huh, bro?” He laughed as Ronan glared at him.

---