Page 17 of Play Pretend

As soon as her back was to me, I cupped my hand around my mouth. “And put an air freshener in your trash!” It was supposed to be a joke, but my voice came out raspy and harsh, and—fuck! Why did I say that?

She rushed across the yard, her robe swaying around her calves. I tipped my head back and stared at the now-dark sky.

“What is wrong with me?” I asked. I raked my fingers through my hair, harshly sighing through my teeth before I went back to my place.

After my ritual of locking the door and checking the stove and microwave, I dropped the mail on the counter, grabbed a beer, and headed to the backyard. I needed to breathe, and my house was too suffocating. It was too sterile.

Every single word exchanged between us replayed in my head like the world’s cringiest home movie. I wanted to shrivelup and die. I wanted to forget it happened, but I couldn’t. I knew it would haunt me for the rest of my life, and every time I looked at her from this day forward, all I would think about was the way her shoulders bunched when I told her to get a goddamn air freshener.

I should be studied by scientists—maybe they could figure out what the actual fuck my deal was. I was thirty-three. I should not have this much trouble talking to a woman.

“I can’t believe I went out there in my mask.” Willow’s voice carried to me over our shared fence, and my entire body froze. I didn’t want to risk making a sound at all. I almost stopped breathing. “I’m always so stupid when I’m around him. He’s just so…ugh!” A smile tugged at my mouth. She was cute. “He can be a real jerk sometimes, you know?”

The words were said softly, but I’d heard them clearly enough, and they made my stomach clench. I wasn’t sure who she was talking to. I only heard her voice. Maybe her mother or Gracie. They seemed to be the only people she really spoke to. I only ever heard her side of their conversations, and her words about me weren’t always the kindest.

So I didn’t want to wait around and hear what else she had to say. She wasn’t wrong—Iwasa jerk. But I hadn’t been five years ago. No one would’ve ever described me as that, yet I couldn’t shake this damn chip on my shoulder. It seemed it was there to stay forever.

Not even hearing a pretty girl say I was a jerk would be enough to change that.

I finished my beer in a couple gulps, and turned back toward my house, ready to go inside. But, against my better judgment, her voice stopped me.

“I just go stupid when he’s around because he has that wholemanthing going on, you know?” I paused midstep, nearlytripping. “And he was so different tonight. He wasn’t jerky, he was…cute.”

My jaw slackened. She thought I was cute? That the entire interaction we’d just had wascute?

“And he was wearing this shirt that was way too tight on him. Doesn’t he know what shirts like that do to a girl’s ovaries? It can make them spontaneously combust, that’s what. And that nearly happened tonight. Which would’ve been so embarrassing.”

My back deck was bare except for two chairs, and I sank onto one, the amber bottle clutched in my hands as I listened to her. A part of me wondered if she was really speaking to someone else or herself.

But it was nice to know she liked the shirt I was wearing. I had plenty more like it.

“Sometimes I think Dad is right,” she suddenly said, her voice sad. “Maybe this place isn’t right for me.” My brows crashed together. What was she talking about? “I can’t even make friends with my neighbor, who, in theory, should be easy to get along with—I mean, he’s the freaking sheriff, you know? But when I’m not being a total bitch to him, I’m just an awkward, fumbling mess. Maybe I’m like that with everyone, and that’s why I don’t have any friends here.”

My heart squeezed at her confession. I shouldn’t be listening to this, but I couldn’t stop. I had to hear every word that came from her mouth. Even if they were sad, Ihadto know.

On silent feet, I moved toward the fence. It was too tall for her to see my head over it, but I still crouched slightly. My hand rested on the wood between us as I listened to her move around.

“I don’t want to move back to Ohio, though. That place—” She stopped talking, and I held my breath. Did she know I was here? “I love Cedar Ridge. I need to make more of an effort to make friends. It’s only been five years.” She took a deep breath, and my fingers gripped the wood plank harder.

I wanted to tell her I was her friend—even if it seemed like we did nothing but bicker, I could be her friend.

But I kept my mouth shut and listened.

“Next time I talk to Dad, I’ll have a true story to tell him. One that he’ll be proud of, and one I won’t have to write down to remember.”

My head jerked back. Did that mean she was lying to her dad about her life here? But why would she do that? And she was writing everything down to remember it? That had to be exhausting. I couldn’t imagine living like that.

Her voice grew distant as she muttered something else I couldn’t quite make out, but I could’ve sworn I heard my name. I strained to listen, but the only thing I heard was the sound of her sliding glass door clicking shut.

I finally took a deep breath, my hand still resting on the fence. I had no idea that was how she felt. She always seemed so put together, like she had the best life around. Maybe she was always by herself or with Gracie, but that didn’t mean she was lonely.

Only, apparently, it did.

My heart ached knowing she had that same lonely pit in her chest as I did. It didn’t sit right with me. I wouldn’t wish that kind of emptiness on anyone.

Even if she annoyed me, I’d never hated her. Honestly, I always assumed she truly couldn’t standme. But after listening to everything she said tonight, I didn’t think she hated me at all.

Or maybe Trinity’s words had sunk too deep, and I was looking for something that wasn’t there. Just because Willow didn’t hate me, didn’t mean shelikedme. That thought stung, but it was true, right?

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