Page 16 of The Problem with Perfect

Even though I get what she means—because it’s true, I’mnotthe dating kind—I still can’t help the way it thickens something in my throat to know it’s how she sees me. Suddenly, there’s something within me that is desperate to prove her wrong, to convince her I’m not only the dating kind, but the kind someone like Bellamy Mitchell would date since Bellamy Mitchell is apparently the barometer my sister is using to determine the worth of men around town.

“Well, apparently Bellamy disagrees with you,” I rebut, pushing the cart down the aisle and toward the front checkout, desperate to leave the conversation behind us, as if physically moving away from it can relieve this pressure in my chest.

My sister is persistent, and it only takes her a few seconds to catch up to me.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” she says, putting her hand on my forearm and pressing gently, pulling me to a stop next to the jars of pickles. “I didn’t mean to sound so surprised. I was just…”

“Surprised,” I finish for her when she trails off. “I get it.”

She watches me for a long minute before a soft smile stretches across her face. “Bellamy Mitchell, huh? You’re really dating?”

I nod.

After a few seconds of considering the idea, Abby claps her hands together a few times, her earlier attitude transforming into excitement. “Oh my gosh, this will be so great. You can bring her to the next family dinner!” Her eyebrows dip. “Does Briar know?”

Shaking my head. “Nobody knows. Nobodyknew,” I correct. “Not until last night.”

“Well, give it a day,” she jokes. “In this town, news travels fast. You know that better than anyone.”

I can’t help the way a little thread of panic flickers through me at that thought, and I know the first thing I have to do when I finish dinner with Abby is call Boyd and tell him what’s going on.

I have a feeling our friendship will be at stake if I don’t.

chapterfive

Bellamy

It’s hard to hide my surprise when I step into the parking lot after I finish waitressing at Dock 7 and find Rusty leaning against the back of his Blazer, eating peanuts and chucking the shells on the ground. By the amount scattered in the gravel beneath his feet, I’d wager he’s been out here for a while.

I know he’s here to ask me about Connor, to make sure I’ve told him the truth…but the reality is I haven’t worked up the nerve. How do you tell someoneI was so blindsided by your relationship I fabricated my ownwithout sounding like a total nutcase?

Knowing I can’t avoid Rusty’s questions, I head in the direction of where he’s parked next to my CRV, resigning myself to my fate. I’ll have to dig us out of the lie I crafted, no matter how embarrassing or uncomfortable it may be.

When I’m just a few feet away, I stop, tucking my hands into my sweater.

“I haven’t told Connor yet.”

“I know. He cornered me at One Stop to ask about our double date.”

He says the words like they’re the most foul he’s ever spoken in his life. But then he lets out his own dramatic sigh and cracks open another peanut, chucks the shells to the ground, and tosses the nuts into his mouth, chewing them thoughtfully as he watches me for a long moment.

“What if I agreed to do it?”

My head jerks back. “What?”

He just keeps staring at me.

“Seriously?”

Rusty nods, the cracking peanut shell the only sound in the darkness of the parking lot as we stare at each other.

I shift where I stand, glancing around aimlessly while I try to think up an answer. What Ishouldbe saying is ‘Hell yes! You can absolutely be my fake boyfriend.’ But I still need at least a moment of hesitation because…what?

“Why the change of heart?” I finally ask, wanting to hear his reasoning. Maybe that will make it make more sense.

I can tell almost immediately that he’s not going to share based on how his head moves, his jaw jutting just slightly forward as his head tilts back. He’s gone on the defensive.

“Do you want help dealing with yourlittle crushor not?”

---