Chapter 23

twenty-three

Wrenlee

Cash brought wonton soup home. I nearly cried when I cracked the lid and inhaled the warmth of familiar comfort food deep into my lungs.

We finished dinner a while ago and we’re halfway through the movie I picked as per Cash’s instruction. My belly is full and I’m cozy next to Cash on the couch under the blanket. Even though I had a nap not long ago, I’m tired. It’s probably partly because I’m sleeping so much. I’ve never been one to take naps. Unlike those chirpy after-nap people, I’m sludgy and heavy and plagued by a sour mood if I give in and snooze mid-day.

My phone chirps, distracting me from my task of keeping my eyes wide on the screen. Dad’s name flashes, and Cash reaches for my phone on the table, handing it to me.

I open Dad’s text and smile.

“What’s up?” Cash asks.

“Dad wants to know when I’m coming for Christmas.” I shift under my blanket. “He’s going to book my flight.”

I can feel his eyes on me, so when I look at him, I’m not surprised to find that dark gaze fixed unwaveringly on me. “You’re leaving for Christmas?”

“Of course. Where else would I be for Christmas?”

Cash rolls his lips. “When are you leaving?”

“Um, as soon as I can, I guess. Now that I’m not working at Addy’s, travel isn’t so hard. I can do my billing at home in Colorado just like I do here.”

“Right.” He’s silent for a long moment as an action scene plays on the screen. I’m about to text Dad back when he asks, “You tell him about us yet?”

I swear I almost swallow my tongue. “Us?”

I’m pretty sure he grinds his teeth before he replies, “That you’re living with me?”

Hesitantly, I say, “I’ve told him I have a new roommate.”

“But not that you’ve got a man.”

“Cash—” I shake my head. “I don’t have a man. This isn’t real.”

“Kitten,”

I start to babble. “I know you told me to start thinking of this as real, but it isn’t. I can’t just tell myself to think one way and do it. That’s not how my brain works—I know this isn’t real. You’re my friend. A really good friend, Cash, but that’s it.” I suck in breath and stare down at my phone, because I can’t say this while looking at him. “I can’t tell my dad that I’m living with my fake boyfriend. He won’t take that well—so I’ve told him I’m living with a friend.”

“Don’t tell him it’s fake.”

My eyes snap to him. Why isn’t he getting this? “I can’t lie to him. He’s my dad.”

“Baby.” He shifts closer to me. “Our relationship is gonna leak to the press eventually. Not only am I the lead singer of Devils Heartbreak, but I’m the son of two very successful and very well-known movie producers. There’s no future where you and me don’t end up on the cover of some rag.”

I feel the blood drain from my face, so I know he sees it. Then, I breathe, “Dad doesn’t read gossip magazines.”

“He shop for food? Stop at convenience stores? Scroll through social media?”

I roll my eyes, because everyone does. But I huff, “Dad doesn’t have social media.”

“Wrenlee.”

“Of course, he shops for food.” I throw my hands up. “Everyone shops for food.”

“Then there’s a chance he’ll see that rag when it drops.”

My mind is whirling, racing at top speed. I can feel my chest tightening as panic sets in. “What am I supposed to tell him?”

“Tell him you’ve got a man.”

I pull in my lip, averting my eyes. I can’t look at him.

When I stay that way, Cash shifts closer. His heavy arm falls over the back of the couch and he angles his big body toward mine. “Kitten?”

“If I tell him I have a boyfriend, he’ll want to meet you.”

“All right.”

My eyes snap to him. “You’d be fine with that? With meeting my dad?”

“Sure.”

I feel my nose scrunch as I study him. “Why?”

He lifts one shoulder as he sets his eyes back to the screen, replying lazily, “I’m invested in this.”

“In what?” I can’t help myself.

“Us, Kitten. I’m invested in us.” I can tell the conversation is over when that heavy arm slides from the back of the couch to my shoulders. He pulls me in so I’m sitting close, and I do my very best to ignore the way my heart thunders in my chest as I fix my eyes back on the movie, unseeing.

I’ll reply to Dad tomorrow.