She looks cute today, as usual, in short leggings, a jersey skirt, and a tank top that it’s not quite warm enough for. She’s always reminded me of those eighteen-inch dolls I used to play with—the quintessential girl next door…except she’s got curves in places those sorts of dolls don’t usually have.
She rocks an innocent yet flirty vibe that a lot of guys can’t get enough of, and I wasn’t ready for Landon to meet her. He’s only fake-dating me— nothing is keeping him from real-datingher.And the thought of Landon with Gia is enough to make my blood boil.
“I’m Gia,” she says, clasping his hand, holding it for a second longer than she should before she releases it.
“Landon,” my fake boyfriend says with a nod.
She eyes him, giving him a come-hither look that unsuspecting guys might misconstrue as friendly when it’s actually predatory. “Are you staying in Gray Jay?”
“At Lacey’s place,” Landon says. Then, smooth as ever, he wraps his arm around my back, resting his hand on the curve of my waist and pulling me to his side.
A little nervous Gia’s going to see right through the charade, I almost let out a slightly hysteric giggle. His hand is right above my hip, warm through the thin fabric of my T-shirt, and it’s making my mind wander in directions it has no right going.
I’m so preoccupied, I don’t register the next several moments of the conversation until Gia says, “So you’ll come?”
I stiffen. “Where?”
She laughs at my absentmindedness and tosses her braid over her shoulder. “To my great aunt’s house next Friday.”
Oh, no.
Misty Maguire’s teen nights are the lamest thing ever. The woman isn’t a day under eighty years old. Occasionally, she gets the wild idea to invite all the local teens and gives them free run of the big white barn on her property. She picks out a movie, creates athemeto go along with it, and shows it with a big projector on the side of the building.
The problem is, most of the movies are more age-appropriate for kids around Caleb and McKenna’s ages. Most of the couples end up sneaking into the barn to find a private corner of the hayloft, leaving the rest of us to drink juice boxes and silently bemoan our single status.
Yet all the local kids go because it’s impossible to have a social life here, and we’re that desperate for entertainment. But it’s not an event you bring summer boys to—not unless you’re trying to scare them away.
“Sounds great,” Landon says.
For just a second, Gia’s eyes flicker to the hand holding me close, and she frowns. Then she brightens again and gives us—more Landon than me—a big smile.
“Great!” she chirps and then holds up the shopping bag at her side. “I have to get back, but I’ll see you there.”
We say our goodbyes, and I watch her leave, my eyes narrowed and an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.
“So, that’s Gia, huh?” Landon asks, his arm still wrapped around my back.
“Yeah.”
“The one who stole your last boyfriend?” He says it with a teasing glint in his eyes—a sweet, affectionate glint I find most confusing.
“Yeah.”
He tugs me tight one last time before he lets me go. Then, lightly, just before taking a sip of his rapidly melting iced coffee, he says, “Well, no worries. She won’t steal me.”
CHAPTER TEN
I’min the middle of cutting up chicken for dinner when my phone rings. Though I’m unable to answer, I glance at the screen to see who it is. For a moment, my stomach flutters with the hope that it might be Landon. Which is ridiculous because we haven’t exchanged numbers and we’re not actually dating—something it seems I must remind myself continually.
Seeing that it’s Paige, I go back to the cutting board to finish before I call her back. I’m slicing the last piece when she calls again.
It must be important because she’s not usually this needy. I dump the chicken cubes into the hot skillet and hurry to wash my hands.
Quickly, I answer her call, only to realize I was a moment too late. I dial her number, starting to worry there’s some kind of emergency.
“You’re dating Landon?” she demands the moment she answers the phone. “And what the heck, Lacey? I found out fromGia.”
I almost laugh with relief that she’s not sick or dying in a hole somewhere, and then I step onto the back porch where I hope my mom won’t hear me. “We’re not actually dating. We’rejust making people think we’re together so our mothers will quit playing Team Matchmaker.”
