Page 95 of Between Hate and Desire

Guess not.

“It’s not what you think. Fucking relax.” I lean forward on the couch, grabbing my mug and chugging the rest of my coffee.

“I heard ‘hubby’ and ‘honeymoon.’ Not sure how that can be interpreted any other way.”

“We’re faking it,” I explain.

“Just when I thought you couldn’t possibly say anything stupider, you do. Christ, Hunter. What the hell does that even mean?”

Inhaling a deep breath, I begin to tell him. From Lennon finding out she’s pregnant, to the story of her parents and their religious background, to the plan that has us flying to Utah to fake our marriage. I tell him everything. He’s the only person I trust with my life, so I know he won’t rat me out, but there’s no doubt he’s judging me pretty hard.

“Well?” I ask after he doesn’t say anything.

“Hmm. Part of me wants to pat you on the back for helping her out and doing what you think is best, while the other part wants to shake some sense into your puny brain for even suggesting it. You know this isn’t going to end well.”

“It wouldn’t end well either way, Hayden,” I tell him honestly. “At least this way her parents won’t disown her, and she’ll have support for the baby.”

“Yeah, and what does that mean for you?”

“I’m not worried about me right now.”

“Clearly.” He scoffs. “You’re in love with her, Hunter. How the hell do you plan to pretend? I mean…”

“I know,” I grit, not wanting to say anything Lennon can overhear. “I owe her. I owe Brandon. This isn’t about me, I promise.”

After a beat of silence, he sighs. “Okay, well, I wish you the best. I’m just worried about you, but you’re a big boy, so I trust you know what you’re doing.”

Do I know what I’m doing? Christ, I hope so.

We chat for another couple of minutes before ending the call. I’m excited for him and Sav, but part of me is so envious he gets to be with the love of his life. He deserves it all, and I can’t wait for the wedding. When I was a teenager, I watched him self-destruct after their breakup, and it was a wake-up call.

Don’t trust women.

Mostly, I didn’t. It was proven to me time and again that they’d chew you up and spit you out without a second thought. Then Lennon entered the picture, and everything changed.

“Hey, if you’re done, I wanna show you something,” Lennon calls from the bedroom.

“Yeah, sure,” I shout.

She steps into the living room wearing a knee-length sundress that fits her perfectly. I can’t even see her bump from this angle. It’s not until she turns to the side that I notice there’s one.

“What do you think? I want to look nice so they don’t ask me a hundred questions about how I feel about Brandon or the pregnancy. So if I look decent, they’ll assume everything is great.” She shrugs, but there’s sadness in her eyes.

Pushing myself up, I stand and walk toward her. I smile and nod. “You look amazing. Really good.”

“Yeah? Okay, well, thanks. I need to dress the part. Now that I’m awifeand future homemaker.” She snorts.

“I don’t even wanna know what that means.” I shake my head, the nerves setting in about meeting her parents tomorrow evening. Tonight’s our last night of normalcy—well, normal for us—and then everything’s gonna change.

“No, you don’t, but don’t forget to pack some dressy clothes. You’ll need them for dinner and whatever else they drag us to.”

“I won’t.”

“Well, I’m going to change back into some comfy clothes so we can continue looking over those notecards and finish packing.”

She goes to walk away, then stops and turns back to me. “I know I’ve said it a million times, but thank you.” Lennon closes the space between us and wraps her arms around me. I wrap one around her, pulling her to my chest, and kiss the top of her head.

“Whatever you need, Lennon,” I promise.

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