Page 21 of The Holiday Fakers
Piper: I’m perfectly safe
“Is that Mia?” Brody repeats.
Shoving my phone in my purse, I nod. My heart’s still pounding so hard there’s not enough room for my lungs to work properly.
I want to look to my left and stare at him. Trace the lines on his face that time and experience have etched. I want to know who he is now, and if any part of the boy I once knew remains.
But I’m not a creeper.Much. So instead, I look ahead, my forward gaze unfocused, as my peripheral vision gets all the attention, zeroing in on his right arm as he shifts gears.
Brody’s running super-hot in all senses of the word, dressed in a cream Henley with the sleeves rolled up to reveal a muscular, tanned forearm dusted with dark hair. Around his wrist is a silver bracelet made from tiny shackles that I know is from Tiffany & Co, and a leather braided bracelet with a Dolce & Gabbana clasp.
Pretending to look for something in my purse, I sneak a glance further left, noticing the vintage Rolex on his left wrist and the tailored navy pants that cling to his thighs.
Gone is the slightly scruffy teen who loved hiking with Ethan, and in his place is a very rich, well-dressed man who probably hasn’t seen the inside of a Target for over a decade, and whose life is several tax brackets above mine.
Brody clears his throat, and that’s all the excuse I need to face him. He’s clean-shaven today, his dark brown hair freshly cut but still long enough for me to run my fingers through and?—
“So … who knows I’m coming back to Hideaway with you?”
I swallow, then reply, “Well, no one … yet.”
He frowns. “Why haven’t you told anyone?”
“Um …”Because I wasn’t sure you’d show?
“You might as well let them know now. Give them a chance to get their head around it,” he continues. “And explain why we’re faking it.”
Well, shit. Now I’ve got to fess up that we’re faking it for real.
At my silence, his gaze quickly flicks from the road to me. “Piper?”
I’m suddenly too hot. But it’s not horny hot. It’s guilty and embarrassed hot. Shuffling out of my coat, I toss it onto the back seat along with my scarf.
“I’m going to tell Mia the truth,” I say, then lapse into silence, brushing invisible lint from my jeans.
“And…” Brody draws out the word, expecting a reply.
I don’t know what to say, so I approach the final destination of my answer from far away.Veryfar away. “You know the founding story of Hideaway Harbor?”
“Ye-es …”
“When my fourteen-times great-grandparents fled their warring families to be together during the Puritan era?”
“And when they made it over the mountains, dehydrated, and at the edge of death,” Brody continues in a sing-song voice as if reciting a children’s story he’s heard too many times before.
“They were saved by the waters of the Hideaway spring, decided to stay in this corner of paradise by the sea, and founded a town that was the most perfect place to live. A town where everyone finds their one true love, unicorns fart rainbows, and nothing bad ever happens.”
I’m silent, listening to the bitterness in his voice. Brody didn’t have a particularly happy childhood, and no, Hideaway isn’t perfect, but it’s still pretty darn special to me.
“And what has any of that got to do with us, Piper?”
He’s right. We’re not in love. At least, he’s never been in love with me. As my older brother’s good-looking and kind bestfriend, Brody was always dazzling to me, like a first celebrity crush.
Now? My hormonal body still wants his in every sexual position I know the name of, but I’m just fangirling because God gave him too many sexy genes, not because I’m still in love with him.
“Well?”
Just rip the Band-Aid off.
