Page 103 of Faking It With the Small-Town Bad Boy

“What are you doing here, exactly?”

This time, he finally answers, perhaps because Percy is absent. “I

wanted to talk to you about getting a job done. I knocked on the front

door, and that’s when the band from hell came by looking for their

lead singer. I saw the garage door was shut. Your father always told

me it was a bad idea to shut that thing from the inside, so I figured

I’d come to see if you were in here.”

“Thanks,” I sigh, pulling the shirt over my knees to hide my nudeness

underneath. “Can I go get dressed, and then we can talk about

whatever you wanted to talk about?”

His eyes scan down my bare legs, trembling with the cold breeze

that’s been introduced through the open door. After scratching the

back of his neck awkwardly, he gives a stiff nod and exhales as I

stand.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

I pause, unsure of what he’s talking about. “Doing what, exactly?”

“You’re trying to make me pay for what happened between us,

right?”

I roll my eyes, moving outside while trying to keep the hem of my

shirt down so the band on our lawn doesn’t catch a salacious glimpse

of what’s underneath. I hurry up the porch steps, stopped by a grasp

on my wrist that makes me jump out of my skin.

I turn quickly, hiccupping in shock, only to see Percy holding my arm

tenderly. Ryan is a bit further away, catching up to come inside, but

he slows his pace at the sight of Percy.

“What’s wrong, darling? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. He wants to talk about something. I’m going to get dressed

and make some coffee.”

He bites his bottom lip and looks at the band waiting outside the van

that’s parked on my lawn. “They want me to come to practice for an

---