The Anti-Hero (The Goode Brothers, #1)(32)

The closer we get to the event, the more my anxiety grows.

This is so out of character for me I’m trying to disassociate from it entirely. I normally either come to these alone or with some nice churchgoing girl my mother sets up for me. So I just do my best to shed the good boy Adam persona for one night.

With her at my side, it doesn’t feel so unnatural.

I pull the Audi into the valet line and Sage wrings her hands together in her lap. “Ready or not,” she says.

Ready or not.

A moment later, our doors open simultaneously and we each step out into the warm Texas night air. Standing, I readjust my tux, pulling my tie from my neck before putting my arm out for her. She loops hers through mine and squeezes herself close to my body as we make our way to the entrance.

I can already feel people staring. Out here, it’s mostly just guests and the valet attendants, but as we approach the door, I start recognizing the members of my father’s team. His manager, publicist, event coordinator, assistants. Each of them beams at me and then turns their eyes toward Sage. That’s when their smiles fade.

They’re staring. And not in a good way.

It’s an alarmed sort of staring, and I feel my blood starting to boil. They’re silently judging her with their eyes. So I squeeze her tighter against me.

We step into the building as I softly mumble, “Here we go.”

“Where’s the bar?” she replies, and I find myself smiling as we enter the ballroom.

In any large event, it’s always easy to spot my father because of the enthralled people that typically surround him.

Tonight is no different. There’s a crowd at the front of the room, and I can already hear his booming voice from here.

Haughty laughter and a smug arrogance permeate the room like noxious gas.

“A drink is a good idea.” I pull Sage toward the bar on the left. We get in line, standing in awkward silence until we reach the front and I order myself a whiskey on the rocks and her a vodka martini. Just as we get our drinks, I spot my brother, Caleb, with his wife, Briar, each holding drinks and looking miserable on the edge of the room.

I study their expressions as their eyes settle on Sage at my side. Caleb appears instantly surprised and intrigued, unable to keep the confusion off his face. With his brows pinched together, he glances at me as if he’s trying to place where he knows me from.

Briar only stares at Sage for a moment before quickly looking away, never one for confrontation.

As we approach them, Sage stays close to my side. I put out my hand to greet my brother. He shakes it with a look of amusement. “What are you up to?” he mutters quietly, but I ignore his question.

“Caleb, this is my…” I clear my throat as the words get caught. “My date…Sage.”

Fuck.

I botched that one. I should have called her my girlfriend, not date. We’re not trying to just make waves; we want to cause a tsunami. But it’s okay. It was only the first try. I’ll get better.

On my arm, I feel Sage squeeze me as if to say, Nice job, asshole.

Then she smiles politely at my brother and takes his hand as I continue the introductions.

“Sage, this is my brother Caleb, and his wife, Briar.”

My chest feels tight with anxiety as Sage puts her tattooed hand in theirs one at a time. I notice Caleb’s hesitation as if he can already sense that something is off. As if he knows it’s all a lie.

But I can’t tell him it’s a lie. Sage and I went over the rules in her apartment, and I’ve been replaying them in my head ever since.

Rule #1: No one can know the truth. Everyone needs to believe we’re a real couple.

That means brothers, friends, strangers, everyone. I don’t normally keep secrets from my brothers, but lying to Caleb and Lucas should be easy. It’s my mother I’m worried about.

If we want this to be effective, we have to sell it. To everyone.

Caleb’s scrutinizing gaze finds my face. “So…where did you two meet?”

Rule #2: Get the story straight.

“He bought me breakfast at the diner. Last week.” Sage is wearing a bright smile, and I have to admit—it’s convincing.

Her arm slides across my back as she settles herself against my chest, her head nestled in the crook of my arm. She fits perfectly, and she’s not a bad actress. Or not a bad liar, depending on how you look at it.

They don’t need to know Sage and I shared our first breakfast over a month ago. It was my idea to go with a fake anniversary to avoid the date of our meeting lining up too precisely with the day my father fired me.

“Last week?” Briar asks, taking a sip of her champagne.

“Well, you move fast,” Caleb adds.

My gaze slides down to Sage’s face. “What can I say? It was instant chemistry.”

Her cheeks dimple as she scrunches up her nose, smiling up at me. So far, so good. We’re sort of killing it, if I do say so myself.

Rule #3: PDA is key. Be as public as possible.

Which means I should kiss her. We’re definitely in one of those moments when I should lean down and press my lips to hers, but I hesitate a moment too long, and Sage’s smile fades.

She turns away, putting her vodka martini to her lips and taking a drink.

Clearing my throat, I glance back at my brother, who is still staring at me as if I’ve sprouted a dick on my forehead.