Page 178 of Faking It With the Small-Town Bad Boy

I roll my eyes. “Why did you ask me to talk to you, Ryan? What is this

really about?”

“Us,” he says, stepping closer. I instantly take a step back, confused

about what he’s thinking. “You’re about an hour from getting

married, Ryan. This isn’t the time to hit on your ex-girlfriend who is

engaged and pregnant with another man’s child.”

He shrugs it off like it’s a formality. “Yeah, but we still have time to

make this right. Ever since that night, I hit that tree in your field, I’ve

felt terrible. I’ve been growing as a better man, Leah. You can’t just

let ten years go down the drain. We have an opportunity here to be

together. I don’t have to sign the marriage license later. You and I

can take the car you fixed, and we can leave together.”

I almost think he’s joking, but like a brazen man with a shocking

morality compass, he gets down on one knee while people are still

setting up chairs for the ceremony of his wedding to Farrah.

I want to pick him up myself, but instead, I blush in mortification.

Turning away from this twisted scene, I storm off, only to feel his

hand snatch at the back of my arm, pulling me back to face his paled

features.

“Please, Leah. Just listen to me.”

I pull away, unsure what else to say at this moment other than to just

scoff at him.

“I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry for leaving you when you were down and

for treating you like an afterthought. I didn’t mean to hurt you, Leah.

I love you.”

“I don’t love you, though,” I say, surprised I have to repeat this.

“Please, Leah. You used to. We had it so good back then.”

“And you left,” I remind him. “Not me. You moved on, so I moved on,

too.”

Granted, it wasn’t really conventional, but I found love anyway.

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