Page 20 of Where Happiness Begins
However, being stuck in a car with him is worse than all those days combined. At home, I can pretend now and then that he’s not ignoring me, he’s only busy with other things, but here, there’s nohiding how uncomfortable we are with each other. Or maybeI’m uncomfortable and he’s simply indifferent.
Since we were both headed to the studio in Boston to meet with the band, I suggested we go together—mostly because my car’s stuck in the garage thanks to a leaking engine—and while Carter didn’t seem thrilled, he didn’t deny me. However, it probably would have been better if he had.
“So,” I say, unable to bear another second of this painful silence, only broken by the rock music playing from his Mustang’s radio. “How should we play this?”
He quickly steals a glance before returning his attention to the road ahead. “What do you mean?”
Apparently, he was fine with the thick silence from before.
“Well, I can’t just start posting about the band all the time out of nowhere. My followers need to know why I’m even with them to begin with.” I readjust into the seat, then pull my phone out of my purse. “I was thinking of a boyfriend reveal. Or husband reveal…”
“No way.”
This time, it’s my turn to look his way. His hands are tight around the steering wheel, the muscles in his neck tense.
“Why not?” The second the words slip out, I regret asking the question. What if he’s embarrassed about being associated with me? Maybe he was okay with marrying me so long as the whole ordeal was kept private, but the idea of having our faces attached together on the Internet is too much.
“I just don’t do social media.”
If that’s a lie to protect me, I’ll take it.
“We don’t have much of a choice, though. It’s our excuse for me being around.” If I just started following a random band around with no relationship to them, it would look strange. “Plus, it wouldn’t be very realistic for me to keep you hidden.” If I could, I probably would. After having my previous relationship heavily displayed on social media, I’m not keen on doing it again, especially since I know people will probably bring up Greg in the comments one way or another, but again, we don’t have a choice.
When he doesn’t answer, I cock my head, thinking. “What if I don’t show your face? Just, like, your hands or something?”
He throws me a glance, looking less against the idea than before but still not convinced.
“Please?” I say as a last resort.
With an exhale, he says, “Fine.”
I smile, grateful even for this small win. “Great. Let’s do it.”
“Now?”
“Yes, now. It won’t take long.” I’ve already seen a few boyfriend reveals done this way before and it always looks cute. “I’ll start with a photo post, and then I’ll explain our faux love story in my next video. But for now, give me your hand.”
He hesitates before extending his right hand, palm up. I take it, then flip it so it’s facing down before dropping it onto my thigh.
He jerks at the touch. “What are you doing?”
“I told you, taking a picture. Jeez.” You’d think he’s some middle school kid who’s never touched a girl in his life, although Carter’s quiet confidence tells me that’s probably far from the truth.
“Squeeze a little,” I say. When he sends me a “what the hell” look, I add, “Girls love veiny forearms.”
His nostrils flare, but thankfully, he does as I say, and the result through the camera is great. Delicious, even. Once I’m sure I’ve got the right angle, I place my left hand on his, showing off the gold band. I snag four photos. “All done.”
I pretend not to be insulted when he rips his hand away before I’ve finished my sentence.
I start editing the photo, and a good moment passes before he says, “I don’t think your friend’s going to like that.”
I don’t automatically realize who he’s talking about, and once I do, I laugh. “Don’t worry about Finn.” He’ll get used to the idea. He loves to do the big, bad guy show, but in reality, he’s softer than a marshmallow.
“He kind of made that hard to do,” Carter says.
“Sorry about that, by the way. Finn can be a little…protective.”
“Got that.”
