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“It was almost as if God brought you together to heal and grieve,” my father says. I give him a grin, but I officially feel like an asshole for lying. Though Hunter edited some of the details, it isn’t a completely fabricated story.

“It’s almost as if your guardian angels were looking out for you guys, knowing you two needed each other in desperate times. I’d like to think adding you to that prayer list after the accident helped,” Mom says.

I grab Hunter’s hand and squeeze because he has protected me and made sure I was safe. I was supposed to be on the back of that bike that night. It hits me like a freight train that I was pregnant at that point. I sink into a black hole as I think about Brandon and that night. Hunter leans over and kisses my forehead, causing my eyes to flutter closed and bring me back to our temporary reality.

Eventually, the server comes to the table and picks up our empty plates, and Dad pays the bill. The Andersons give us all hugs and congratulations before saying goodbye, believing every word of our story. When we walk to the car, I let out a relieved sigh. Hunter pulls me to his body and whispers in my ear, “Everything went fine. Stop overanalyzing it all.”

“How do you always know what to say?”

His fingers graze across my arm. “Because I know you, Lennon.”

We climb into the back seat and make our way to my parents’ house with soft music playing in the background. I’m lost in my head, staying silent, replaying every question that was asked and every answer Hunter gave. The lines are so damn blurred I’m not sure what’s pretend and what isn’t. When we get back to California, hopefully we’ll be able to figure it out because what I feel is so damn wrong that it almost paralyzes me.

Once we’re back at the house, Hunter tells my parents good night, and before I can follow, I turn around. I move toward my mom and dad, fighting back my emotions.

“Good night. I love you both so much.” I smile, happy tears stream down my cheeks.

Mom opens her arms and fall into them. “We love you too.” She pulls back, studying my face. “What’s wrong, honey?”

“I’m just so happy, that’s all,” I tell her, and it’s the truth.

“Love does that to a person,” Dad says with a smile. “We’re thrilled, Lennon. I can’t imagine a better man for you.”

My heart sinks.

“I can feel the love you two share, and it’s beautiful,” Mom tells me, and my mind goes in overdrive.

I wipe the rogue tears determined to fall. “Thank you.”

“We love you. Good night,” my father says.

“Good night.” I walk away with my mind in overdrive, wishing my parents would’ve had the opportunity to meet Brandon. I like to think they would’ve liked him just as much. With a heavy heart, I climb the stairs.

It took all of forty-eight hours for my parents to fall in love with Hunter. They officially believe our relationship is real, and after these past two days, I almost believe it too.

Chapter Seven

Hunter

I wake up with Lennon in my arms. The curve of her body presses against me, and I want to stay here all day and hold her, because once we get on that plane and head back to California, everything will go back to normal. Or at least that’s what I keep telling myself. I’m not sure we can go back to normal after this, but I’ll try my damnedest, for her sake.

Lennon shifts, and she lets out a hum.

“You awake?” I whisper, and she shakes her head, which makes me chuckle. “Better get up so we don’t miss our flight.”

She lets out a sigh, then I slide out of bed and go to the bathroom. When I come back, she’s sprawled out, looking beautiful as always. Her shirt slides up her body and reveals her belly, and I can’t help but smile. That baby has no idea how lucky it is.

“Lennon…”

“I know, I know,” she tells me in her cute sleepy voice as she pushes herself up. After tucking her messy hair behind her ears, she then stretches before standing. She walks out, and by the time she comes back into the room, I’m dressed and ready for breakfast. When she passes me by, her eyes slide up and down my body. She doesn’t say a word, though I have an inkling of what she’s thinking.

Lennon may be able to suppress her feelings, but she can’t hide her physical reactions from me—never has—even when she was hating me.

She swallows hard, then forces her eyes away. “I’ll meet you downstairs,” she says, digging through her suitcase.

I give her a side grin and a nod, wishing I could read her mind. As I walk out of the bedroom, I hear her parents’ laughter in the distance. The house smells like bacon, and my stomach growls, thinking about it. Lennon’s parents greet me with a cheery good morning when I enter the kitchen.

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