Page 138 of Play Pretend

“I was expecting to talk to Willow,” Dad muttered. “Alone.”

“She’s right here.” Ronan’s eyes shifted to me, a silent question in them. Did I want to do this alone? I shook my head—no, I didn’t. I couldn’t. I needed him, his silent strength, to help me navigate whatever direction this conversation was going to go.

Dad sighed sharply. “We wanted to know if you’d like to come to dinner tonight,” he said roughly. “A do-over. I think we got off on the wrong foot last night. And—and I guess your boyfriend can come, too.”

“I was planning on it,” Ronan grumbled.

“Sure,” I said. “We can go to?—”

“Vanessa said she looked up restaurants and wanted to try some place called Opaline.”

Ronan and I glanced at each other. It was a really fancy, expensive place. I pressed the mute button before speaking.

“Do you want to eat there?” I asked, and he shrugged. “Do you have anything to wear? I’ve heard their dress code is really strict.”

“I have clothes. Do you?”

I chewed on my lip. “Yeah. But—it’s expensive.”

His face softened. Reaching out, he rested his palm against my cheek. “Baby, if you’re worried about money, I’m comfortable. You never need to worry about expenses again, okay? I’ve got us covered.”

My throat tightened. “I can’t ask you?—”

“You’re not asking. I’m doing it because it’s what I want to do. Now, do you have a dress to wear?” His brows lifted expectantly, and I nodded.

“I haven’t worn it before.”

He grinned. “I can’t wait to see it.”

Without a word, he took the phone off speaker. “Yep, we’ll meet you there,” he said. My dad was silent again, then he cleared his throat.

“Seven sound good?”

“Perfect. See you then.”

Without a word, he hung up. We stared at each other, then I let out a nervous laugh. “I didn’t think my first time at Opaline would be like this,” I said.

“I’ll take you again another time, just the two of us. We can pretend like that’ll be your first time. Tonight doesn’t count.” He pressed his lips to mine and smiled. “You’re going to look incredible.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“I do. Now, go get ready. We only have a few hours.”

For the rest of the afternoon, I went through the motions of making myself look perfect. Curling my hair, applying makeup, putting my red dress and heels on. Ronan wore a navy-bluesports coat and slacks, his hair neatly combed back, and his beard trimmed short. He looked incredible.

As we drove to the restaurant, I couldn’t help but notice the pit in my stomach. It wasn’t just dread, it was something deeper, more palpable.

All too soon, Ronan pulled into the parking lot at the restaurant, and I smoothed my shaky hands over the silky fabric of my dress. My fingers were ice-cold despite the warm summer evening, and my breathing was harsh and ragged in my chest. The soft hum of the engine cut off as he shifted into park, and for a long moment, neither of us moved. The weight of everything pressed down on me, heavier with each breath.

Ronan reached over, curling his fingers around mine. “It’s just dinner,” he murmured.

Just dinner.

I swallowed hard and nodded, but something cold and oily curled in my chest.

It wasn’t just dinner.

It was a battle.

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