Page 51 of Play Pretend

I smoothedmy hand over my teal babydoll dress. It was the comfiest thing I owned—it was oversized and flowed out aroundme, not clingy or tight anywhere. It was perfect for a hangover day. I’d slipped a knit cream cardigan over my arms on the way out, but it was oversized and pooled around my elbows. A pair of booties and some gold jewelry finished off the look, and as casual and effortless as it appeared, it wasn’t.

I’d spent the better part of an hour picking everything out. I swiped mascara over my lashes until they were long and thick, and the lipstick on my mouth was new and perfectly applied. It was ridiculous, but I couldn’t squash the butterflies fluttering in my belly. I wasexcitedto see Ronan again—excitedto go on a…date? If that’s whatgrabbing a bitewith my fake boyfriend meant.

The notebook slid against my sweaty palm as I tapped the knuckles of my other hand on his door. I held my breath as I waited, straining to hear his footsteps. For a moment, I thought he hadn’t heard the knock, but then the door opened, and there he was.

He was in the same white shirt and blue jeans from earlier, but he’d pulled a hat on, his dark hair flipping out under the edges. His smile was genuine, and when his gaze slid down the rest of my body, warmth pooled in my lower stomach.

“You look nice,” he said, his voice low. He glanced down at himself, his mouth twisting. “Should I change? I look ridiculously underdressed next to you.”

A breathy laugh I didn’t recognize escaped me. “You look perfect.”

Pink tinged the tips of his ears as he fought back a smile. Roughly, he cleared his throat as he stepped outside. “Thanks,” he said gruffly, shutting the door behind him. He locked and unlocked it a few times, his shoulders rising with his deep breath. “I’m starving.”

“Me too.”

He turned and stared down at me for another beat before he gave me a firm nod. “From this second on, you’re my girlfriend,” he said, and my heart soared into my throat.

“What?”

“I told you I was all in, so we have to live the lie to make your family believe it,” he explained. “I’m a terrible actor. They’ll know I’m faking it if I don’tbelieveyou’re my girl.”

God, did he have to saymy girllike that? Didn’t he know what that did to a woman? It made me stupid and turned me to mush. It made me want to wrap my legs around his waist…or my lips around his cock.

I nearly choked at the thought. Where the hell had that come from?

“Okay,” I croaked. “When we leave our houses, we’re dating.” He dipped his chin in a firm nod. “And when we get home, we’re back to being neighbors.”

“Yep.” He held his elbow out for me, and I stared at it like I’d never seen one before. A chuckle left him, breathy and low. “Wrap your hand around my arm, sweetheart.”

My pupils dilated. He had to know what he was doing to me, right? He was messing with me in the cruelest way.

I did as instructed and wrapped my trembling hand around the crook of his elbow. He led us down the creaky stairs to his truck. When we got to it, I dropped my hand away, ignoring the way it felt to leave his warmth behind. I gripped the notebook tighter in my other hand, needing something to hold onto.

Shock rendered me momentarily speechless as he pulled open my door and gestured for me to come to him. “Thanks,” I rasped, but he didn’t say anything. He just watched me grab the handle at the top of his truck. His warm hand settled on my lower back and my foot nearly slipped off the ledge. “What are you?—”

“Helping you up,” he muttered. “I can lift you in if that’s easier.”

“It’s okay,” I squeaked, pulling myself into his truck. His hand was a heavy weight helping me inside. He dragged his fingers along my lower back before pulling completely away. My breathing was shallow and harsh, and my heart was battering against my ribcage. Sweat had gathered along my palms, and I tightened my grip on the notebook, feeling it slipping from my grasp.

“You look very pretty,” he murmured, his words barely registering. “I like that color on you.”

I was about to die. Or maybe I already died. Maybe this was a dream? A really,reallygood dream. A dream where Ronan was staring at me like he wanted to eat me alive. A dream where I was seconds away from wrapping my hand around his shirt and pulling him to me, pressing my lips to his?—

“Thank you,” I whispered, my gaze dropping to my feet. I couldn’t look at him, not when he was like…that.

He hesitated, his hand tightening around the door. Our eyes met, and the golden haze of light around him made him look otherworldly. My breath caught in my lungs. His lips parted, and I waited to hear what he had to say.

But nothing.

Not a sound, not a breath.

A strange pang of disappointment stabbed through my chest as he shut the door. I watched as he rounded the front of the car, sliding his sunglasses over his eyes. Suddenly, the foliage outside was incredibly interesting, and I stared at it as he got in and started the truck.

It rumbled to life under us, and rocks crunched under his tires as he backed out. Trees and houses passed—the same trees and houses I’d passed a million times before, but they looked different. Theyfeltdifferent.

Maybe it was me who was different.

Silence filled the cab of the truck as we drove through town. People walked along the sidewalks, the brightly colored storefronts and homes nothing but a blur of color. Tension rippled off Ronan in thick waves, but I didn’t understand why. I didn’t know what to say or do to make it better.

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