Page 29 of Play Pretend

“He just kept talking about how great she was, and how mediocre my life was. And I—I don’t know.” She shook her head, her lips pressing tightly together. “It doesn’t matter. It’s stupid. But I lied, and I was wondering if you could?—”

“Find someone else.” I didn’t need her to finish that sentence to know what she was going to ask. Suddenly, being overdressed, and the desserts made a lot of sense.

“But—”

“I have no interest in lying to your family,” I told her. “I don’t want to pretend to be your boyfriend. So find someone else to do it.”

“Well, you see?—”

“No, Willow.”

“I told them it was you.”

Another bomb, this one resembling an atom bomb.

“You told themwhatwas me?” I needed her to clarify. “Tell me exactly what you said.”

“I told my dad you and I are dating.”

The words finally registered. They floated through my ears and ricocheted off every wall in my skull. They repeated over and over.

I’d heard her clearly, but there wasnoway she’d actually said that.

She stared at me with those massive eyes—it was like looking at a little puppy. But that shit would not work on me. Not about this.

“Youwhat?”

“I didn’t know what else to do?—”

“Find a real boyfriend?” My voice rose, and she flinched, stepping away. I squeezed my eyes shut and took a deep breath, calming myself. My mother would box my ears if she heard me shout at a woman, butfuck. “Why would you use me for your lie?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“I don’t—” It looked like she was panicking. Her breathing was too fast, her face pale, eyes wide. “I don’t know.”

I got to my feet and stalked across the room, stopping in front of her. She looked up at me, our eyes meeting and holding. With all the strength I had left, I reached out and braced my hands on her shoulders.

She needed to calm down if we were going to discuss this.

“You’re okay. Just breathe,” I said softly.

“I’m sorry.” Her teeth chattered, and I reached down, grabbing the blanket slung on the back of the couch. Wrapping it around her shoulders, I ran my hands up and down her arms. “I’m sorry.”

“I won’t lie to your family,” I murmured.

“But—”

“No.”

Her gaze fell, her shoulders with it. It was like a punch in the gut, but I couldn’t bring myself to agree to this. It was insane. And if it got out, I knew this gossip would run wild.

This string of burglaries already looked bad, and if everyone found out their sheriff was a liar, it would be even worse.

But then she looked up at me with those sad, lost eyes, and I almost caved.Almost.

“Maybe you should just tell them the truth,” I suggested, but she shook her head.

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