Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 41373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 207(@200wpm)___ 165(@250wpm)___ 138(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 207(@200wpm)___ 165(@250wpm)___ 138(@300wpm)
“My grandparents told me about the… what was it, a quail infestation, at the inn?”
Shane’s eyes brightened. “You heard about that?”
I nodded. “A little.”
“It wasn’t an infestation,” he said, grinning. “We just had multiple little quail families all born at the same time a few months back. We’d look toward the back lawn of the inn and see the babies following after their moms every day.”
“Fucking adorable,” I said.
Shane ran a hand across his hair, which shined under the pendant light.
There was something about him I liked.
Something genuine. Like he was exactly who he seemed to be—kind, sweet, and always 100% himself.
“Wow,” Shane said. “You hear stories about the inn, even when you’re out auditioning and acting in New York City. I’ll be damned.”
“Well,” I said. “Trying to act. Kind of a cutthroat game out there.”
“Cutthroat? What do you mean?”
I wasn’t going to tell him that my family name had gone from being celebrated to being one of the most hated words in our neighborhood back there.
Liars. Embezzlers. Fucking cheats.
So instead I griped about auditions.
“Last year my girlfriend got cast in eight roles, and I got exactly one,” I offered. “That one stung.”
“Well that sucks ass,” Shane said, furrowing his brow.
For some reason, it hit me right in the chest.
He seemed so sincere, looking at me with those earnest eyes and telling me he was sorry. I was used to people shaking their heads, telling me that acting was just like that—a constant game of rejection until one day, you hopefully got a good role. Some people had even told me I should quit.
But this heart-of-gold Tennessee sweetheart of a guy was already being nicer to me than half of my friends back in the city. He didn’t even know me.
I tossed back the rest of my martini in one gulp, the liquor sitting nicely in my blood.
“Hey. Do you want to get out of here?” I asked him.
“I like your scarf,” Shane said as we walked out into the chilly winter air. “And your sweater.”
“Like I said. As soon as it’s November first,” I told him. “I’m allowed to wear my reindeer sweater.”
“Damn right.”
We walked slowly down the town street. As we walked we passed by a couple of families already hanging up their outdoor lights, too. Bestens was old school in a good way, the kind of place where the “downtown” was small but had everything you’d ever need.
“So why can’t you just have somebody pretend to be your girlfriend for the show contest?” I asked.
He glanced over at me. “Boyfriend,” he corrected. “And because I don’t know a soul on Earth who’d be willing to do that.”
Damn. I’d never clocked him as being gay, but maybe that was just because I’d been too busy watching his pool stance.
“What do you have to submit to apply?”
“A five-minute video, showcasing why your relationship is special,” he explained. “Then if you win, they film an episode of the show in your house, presumably with your oh-so-special partner there, too.”
My boots crunched on a pile of leaves on the sidewalk. “Fuck it,” I said. “Sign me up.”
Shane stopped walking. We were in front of a little park, its street lamps glowing.
“What?” he asked.
“I’ll do it,” I said, shrugging. “Why the hell not?”
“What about your girlfriend?”
“Oh,” I said, shifting on my feet. “She dumped me the moment she got cast in a Netflix movie.”
A dark swirl of shame settled in me. I hated massaging the truth when I talked to people like Shane. My girlfriend had dumped me because of the scandal. Part of me wished I could be completely honest and tell him how much it fucking hurt to be dumped by friends and lovers for something I hadn’t even known my family was doing.
But I didn’t want to think about it. I just wanted to do what I was in Tennessee to do: escape.
“Shit,” he said, frowning. “Getting dumped is the worst.”
Something warm bloomed inside my chest.
He was doing it again. Being so earnest and kind that it almost made me panic. I was so used to rejection that even a small amount of true kindness made me feel… strange. Like I almost didn’t deserve it.
“Don’t worry, Shane,” I said, deflecting. “I promise, getting dumped last year isn’t my darkest secret.”
He nodded. I could see his breath faintly in the chilly air.
“So, no girlfriend,” he continued. “But you’d really be willing to pretend you’re gay, on screen?”
I laughed softly.
God, he was cute.
“I’ve pretended to be gay countless times in plays,” I told him. “Trust me, it won’t bother me.”
“Really?”
I nodded once. “I like kissing men. I’d do pretty much anything.”
Shane shifted on his feet, the shadows cast by the street lamp moving in tandem. He looked like I’d just told him I was an alien or something. Like he’d never heard of a guy who really didn’t mind pretending to be gay.