Chapter Twenty-Eight

Jonah

What the hell?

One minute they were holding hands, sharing secret smiles, and he was even gently grazing the underside of her wrist, loving how she shivered. The next, she practically jumped out of her skin, jerking back like she’d come in contact with a viper, then twisted toward him.

Her face was red and her eyes sparkled with unchecked panic. “I didn’t think this through,” she said over the chatter bouncing off the walls of the arena.

“Think what through?” he asked, afraid she was retreating back a step, undoing the one they’d advanced a moment ago.

“Today. This.” She gestured to the arena.

They were in the University of Colorado Boulder’s basketball gymnasium. One side of the stands was packed with spirited-colored parents and the other was a mosaic of teens in cheer uniforms that were way too short in his opinion.

Note to self: enroll Waverly in fencing.

“When you offered to be my beard, I was desperate, so I agreed.” Not the reason he wanted to hear for what he thought was a pretty amazing afternoon. “But I didn’t think of how this would all play out.”

“Hey.” He took her hands again. “Whatever it is, I got you.”

Her expression became even more pinched. “That makes it even worse.” She took a deep breath. “First, I want to start by saying I’m sorry. Second, I want to tell you that if you want to leave, I understand. You see, my parents just—”

“We’ve arrived,” her dad sang.

Jonah looked at the bottom of the steps where he immediately spotted Lenard. He was dressed in camel-colored boat shoes, mint green skinny jeans, and a silky shirt with palm trees on it. His face was painted with silver-and-pink sparkles, making him look like a silver fox gone club kid, and he was waving like he was part of the royal family.

“Why are you so worried? Does your dad pack a shotgun under those skinny jeans?” Jonah teased, nudging her shoulder with his.

She cracked the tiniest of smiles. “No, but he has been known to deliver glitter bombs to men who don’t treat me right.”

He leaned in to whisper in her ear, “Good thing I know how to treat a woman right.”

And he wanted to do right by Evie. No matter how this thing started, he was finding himself more and more protective over her.

“I know. But you didn’t sign up for the chaos that’s about to ensue.”

“Look, I’ve lived next door to your parents for almost a decade. Nothing can shock me.”

And that was the truth. He’d accidentally seen Moira watering her roses naked—he shivered at the horrific memory. Had Lenard tell him that he had the right “equipment” to wear tighter jeans. Then there was the time Camila puked up pizza and ice cream all over him at Ryan’s tenth birthday party after jumping in the blowup tent too long—lesson learned, jump house then junk food.

“Yes. But you’ve never seen them at a competition. They are loud, combative, yell at the judges, and boo the other teams. Plus, they try to be funny, but it always comes out perverse. Look.”

Evie pointed at Moira, who was in second-skin jeans, an animal-print shirt that said “Resident Cheer Cougar,” and matching cougar-print stilettos. In her hands was a bright poster that read, “Nail That Dirty Bird, Cami.”

“What’s a dirty bird?” Jonah asked to lighten the mood.

“It’s a stunt. And this isn’t a part of the deal.”

“Neither was the other day,” he said. Evie kept her eyes forward but the beating pulse at the hollow of her neck was a dead giveaway.

He thought about that day often. It was becoming his favorite pastime. More like an obsession. Now that he knew the taste of her lips, the way her nipples puckered against his tongue, the way her breasts felt in his palms. The way she came apart on his mouth.

Oh no. Jonah was starting to get a sick, strange feeling. He didn’t want this. And by this, he didn’t want to pretend anymore with her. He wanted it to be real.

“Oh God! Here they come.” She spun to face him. “We can hold hands.” She grabbed his, but it felt more like middle schoolers trying to figure out how dating worked. “Be prepared. We have to pull this off. Make it believable.”

That wouldn’t be a problem for him, so the way she was reacting, all panicked and embarrassed, crushed something inside him. All right. She wanted him to play along, he’d play along. He slung his arm around her and pulled her snug against his body.

“What are you doing?”

“Making this believable. So bring your best, sunshine. Because I will.”

She seemed flustered, right where he wanted her. She’d thrown him for a loop, so he was going to do the same. Tit for tat. Which pissed him off.

“Do we have to sit so close?”

“Believable, remember?”

Her face crumbled a little bit, and she said, “Right. Now get ready. They will grill you. Bombard you with questions that include, but are not limited to, your sex life, your breakfast cereal choices, boxers or briefs—”

“Boxer-briefs, so I have both covered.”

“If you’re a ladies-first kind of man.”

He leaned in to whisper, “I’ll let you answer that one.”

She gulped down a gallon of air. “You shouldn’t be looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re going to slide your hand down my pants,” she whispered thickly.

“Do you want me to slide my hand down your pants, sunshine?”

God, say yes. Not that he would right there in the middle of the cheer competition. But knowing that she wanted him to would be enough. His body’s response at even the possibility was like a chemical reaction.

She turned to him, those beautiful brown pools connected with his and he was certain she was going to answer, but instead she plastered a fake-as-shit smile on her face and said, “Fun fact. Did you know that my dad was the cheerleader of the family?” she said, avoiding the topic.

He’d let her deflect—for now.

“He used to coach at the high school. Now he’s Camila’s team parent,” she went on. “Just about everyone knows him here.”

Lenard was walking up and down the bleachers kissing nearly everyone he came across. “I can see that. Was he your coach, too?”

Now that he was picturing Evie in one of those skirts, he decided they were the perfect length. In fact, he wouldn’t mind helping her pull it out of the attic and having her teach him more about this dirty bird.

“I didn’t have time for cheer. My parents had just expanded the shop so I spent my time after school making lattes and cappuccinos.”

It was said with a casualness that he knew was a front. And some of that anger dissipated at her openness. At her selflessness. “That must have been hard.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You’re just so social, it must have been hard watching your peers have the teen experience while you were working.” Didn’t she say that she’d had a key to her parents’ shop by the time she was fifteen? He hadn’t thought about what that meant then. But he was sure thinking about it now. Thinking about how he’d just reacted to her uncertainty about the situation and that made him a dick.

“That’s why I went away for college.”

Only I got pregnant and had to come home was left unsaid.

“It was what it was,” she said. “Plus, I liked helping my family.”

He noticed she used the past tense. “Do you still like it?”

She opened her mouth and closed it as if debating on whether to tell him the truth or deflect. She let out a big breath and he watched as her body deflated. “Does it make me a terrible person if I told you no?”

He cupped her cheek. “I think you’re an incredibly unselfish person who does more than most would.”

She leaned into his palm. “My family gave up a lot for me when I was pregnant. They put their retirement years on hold to help me raise Camila.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to give up your dream.”

“I didn’t give up on it, I just put it on hold.”

“Is that why you want to go back to school?”

“I loved school, but it was too hard raising a kid as a teenager and keeping up my grades. I know other people do it. I just couldn’t give one hundred percent to a million different things.”

She’d given other people all one hundred of her percent until there was nothing left over for herself. “And if you couldn’t do it perfectly then you didn’t want to do it at all?” he guessed.

“More like, I was sick seven months of my pregnancy and then I had to work full-time to support Camila.”

He ran a thumb down her jawline. “That must have been hard, too. Didn’t Mateo help?”

“He’s never missed a payment, but in those early years he was just an intern at a law firm, and it took him a while to work his way up. As for emotional involvement, he’s pretty much hit or miss. Mostly miss, actually.”

“I can’t imagine not being in my kid’s life.”

“Me either. Even though it’s been hard at times, I wouldn’t change it for anything.”

A dreamy smile overtook the exhaustion and his heart rolled over. This was the most she’d opened up to him, and all he could think was he wanted to know every little thing about her. Even if this was pretend for her, it felt real to him.

He took her hand again and she didn’t pull away. “What are you studying?” he asked.

“I want to reopen my own organizing business.”

“So you can terrorize your clients?” he teased.

She shot him a prim glare. “I like to think I have a velvet glove.”

“Not when it comes to me. But you’re softening up.”

“Maybe a little. Tell me something about you. Wait, let me guess, you were one of those popular jock types.”

“Why do you say that?” She reached up and squeezed his bicep. He laughed. “I may have been the captain of a few teams in my day.”

“Was your dad your team parent, too?”

After all these years, questions about his dad still hit like a sledgehammer to the chest, cracking his foundation and knocking off chunks of confusion, guilt, and disappointment.

She must have seen something in his expression because she quickly said, “You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want.”

“My dad committed suicide when I was ten,” he said quietly.

Her hands jumped to her throat. “Jonah,” she breathed. “I am so sorry. I had no idea. Amber never said a word.”

“Because she knew I didn’t like people to know. To think of my dad like that, you know? When people hear suicide, especially when attached to someone who’s a parent, they think it makes the person selfish or weak. My dad was haunted. He went to Kuwait my hero and came home a shadow.”

“That sounds like mature logic for a ten-year-old.”

“Oh, I was confused, devastated, angry at the world. At him. I wanted to rage, but the suicide broke my mom, so I had to be the strong one. I got all the aggression out on the field.”

“Did your mom remarry?”

He was quiet for a moment. He didn’t usually talk about this with people but now that he’d started he couldn’t seem to stop. “She never even dated.” He looked over at Evie, and those beautiful eyes of hers were filled with pain and a fierce protectiveness—for him. “Not even once. I think it was the shock of it all that knocked her so off axis she was never able to realign.

“You know, when he was deployed, she’d always have me set him a place at the dinner table. After he died, she started doing it again. She still does. Every night, there it is, the giant reminder that we weren’t enough for him to stick around.”

“It had nothing to do with you. You know that, right?”

“Oh, I know that. But ten-year-old Jonah still wonders what he did wrong. Or what he didn’t do that could have made a difference.”

She kissed his fingertips. And instead of saying how sorry she was or some other empty platitude, she said, “I’m angry for the boy who lost his dad and even angrier for the man who carries those scars.”

“Sometimes I’m angry, too. Like when I graduated college, when Waverly was born, when Amber was diagnosed. And all the small, in-between moments when a decision makes you a boy or a man. I had to figure it all out on my own. For a while I had Amber and now…” He shrugged.

“You have me,” she said earnestly. “I know I’m not family, and this is an arrangement, but I’m a good listener and I give great advice.”

There it was. The reminder that this was short-term. Something to be endured for her until they both accomplished their goals.

“You also give great orders.”

She laughed. “I might also be an I-told-you-so kind of person, but it’s because I’m usually right. And if people just listened to me the first time it would save everyone a lot of frustration.”

He couldn’t help but smile. That’s what she did to him—made him want to push past the pain and be in the here and now. “That explains the personal organizer dream.”

“I never told you it was my dream.”

“You didn’t have to. I could tell by the way you talked about it how much you loved your job.”

She smiled and shifted the focus. “What about you? Where do you see a new job taking you?”

He saw it taking him to a place that was full of possibilities. “I want to help people like me, who was so buried in grief it was hard to get up, let alone manage Amber’s life insurance payout.”

She blinked. Twice. “That’s very sweet.”

“Don’t sound so surprised.”

“I’m not surprised so much as touched.” She went quiet. “Are you still buried?”

“Asking for a friend?” he said without a trace of humor.

“Maybe,” was all she said, but the organ in his chest reacted like she’d just admitted that she, too, saw possibilities. But he wanted to be honest. She deserved honesty.

“I think a part of me will always be. But it’s easier to breathe now.”

“What changed?”

He wanted to say that she was the change but he knew that would scare her. Hell, it scared him.

“Hello, darling,” someone interrupted, and they looked up to find Moira looking back, a conspiratorial smile on her face. She looked at their intertwined hands. “Aren’t you two cozy?”

He felt Evie fight the urge to pull away. “I got a flat and Jonah gave me a ride.”

“I bet he did.” Moira lifted a naughty brow. “You do look more relaxed, honey.”

“Mom,” Evie scolded, then turned to Jonah. “I am so sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for, sweetie,” Lenard said. “Your mother’s just proud of you. I guess the sex-tervention worked.”

“Sex-tervention?” Jonah asked Evie, who rolled her eyes.

“You can still leave if you want. It’s not too late.”

“And miss this?” He laughed. “Not on your life.”

“You want to watch me be utterly humiliated?” She stopped and slapped a hand to her mouth. “Oh my God. Is this how I make Camila feel?” She looked at Jonah. “I’ve become my mom!”

“Who is standing right here,” Moira said. “And if that child is even a tenth as happy as you look then the embarrassment is worth it.”