Page 120 of Faking It With the Small-Town Bad Boy

GOOD ON PAPER

Leah

I lean forward on my toes, nearly face planting in the field of wild ivy

that has overrun my collection out behind my house. Trying not to

think about the fact my grandfather would cry if he knew his old

garden was now growing classic Chevies, I lean forward against the

tailgate and push harder.

I shouldn’t be agreeing to this damn deal, but I need the money—and

I’ve already deposited the checks Ryan gave me. No turning back

now.

Unless I felt like screwing him over.

Still, I push, trying to be the bigger person like my mother always

told me to be. I never mentioned how Dad said it was easier to step

on people later when I’m the bigger person, but that was their

dynamic.

The car finally finds a hill to catch gravity, and I’m thankful, only

having to push a little bit while the nearly flat tires seep air. I was

able to get a compressor out here just far enough to get some air in

the tires, but not much.

Percy told me to wait for him to come home after band practice. But

I’m impatient, and he knows that by now. He’s been here a little over

a week by now, and my head is spinning at how naturally he fits in

here. I’ve enjoyed his company, and the nighttime activities aren’t

too bad.

It’s mostly kissing for now, both of us weary to continue another

night as we did in the shop, but we’ve come close enough to

practically call it sex.

I just wish we were both on the same page. Are we dating? Does he

like me more than a façade? What happens next?

That’s the question that keeps me up at night, but when I’m laying

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