“My favorite kiss of all time,” I said, trying to absorb the news, “was a hate kiss.”
Jack shook his head. “Your favorite kiss of all time was a let’s-get-this-done-and-get-out-of-here kiss.”
I sighed. I looked at the river, just over there flowing along like nothing had happened. Then I said, “I miss the time when I didn’t know that.”
“So do I.”
“You just ruined my favorite kiss.”
Jack gave me a little shrug, like Them’s the breaks. Then he said, “Maybe someday I’ll make it up to you.”
Twenty-Four
AT DINNER, I kept waiting for Jack to confess the fake relationship to his parents—and Jack kept putting it off.
I’d made us fish tacos for dinner. Maybe he didn’t want to spoil the meal?
I didn’t want to spoil the meal, either.
I found myself looking furtively around the table. I didn’t figure Hank would care too much, but I dreaded the moment when Doc and Connie would realize we’d been lying to them all this time.
When Doc was starting to clear plates and Jack still hadn’t said anything, I got it started. “Doc? Connie? There’s something Jack and I need to tell you.”
Connie lifted her hand to her collarbone in delight. “I knew it.”
“You did?” I asked, glancing at Jack.
“I called it like a week ago. Didn’t I call it, honey?” Connie said to Doc.
“You called it,” Doc confirmed.
I looked at Jack.
“I don’t think this is—” Jack started.
“Let’s do it here,” Connie said. “We’ll handle everything.”
“Do what?” Jack asked.
His mother frowned, like Duh. “The wedding.”
Jack looked over at me.
I sighed.
“Mom,” Jack said, “we’re not getting married.”
But Connie just waved that notion off, like Nonsense. “Of course you are.”
“Mom—”
“I’m telling you. I already called it. You’re perfect for each other.”
Jack looked a little green. This was going to be worse than he thought. “Mom, we’re not getting married. In fact,” he glanced over at me for courage, “Hannah’s not even really my girlfriend.”
Jack’s dad had returned to his seat—and now they both stared at us, uncomprehending.
“Not your girlfriend?” Connie asked. “Why not?”
“She’s actually…” Jack said. “You see…” he tried again. “The truth is…”
“I’m a bodyguard,” I said.
Both Jack’s parents blinked at me, but Hank fixed his eyes on Jack.
“I’m his bodyguard,” I clarified, pointing at Jack.
We gave it a second to sink in.
Then Doc said, “Aren’t you a little short to be a bodyguard?”
“I’m taller than I look,” I said, just as Jack said, “She has a tall personality.”
Jack elbowed me and said, “Take him out in the yard and flip him.”
Doc frowned and shifted his eyes to Jack. “Can she?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe.”
“We were pretending to be a couple,” I went on, staying focused, “so I could stay near Jack and protect him.”
I don’t know what kind of reaction I was expecting … but what I got—from Connie at least—was not it.
“Well, that’s ridiculous,” Connie said. “You should be dating. You’re clearly in love with each other.”
“It was all pretend,” I said very gently.
But Connie turned to Jack like she didn’t believe that for a second. “Jack,” she said, “was it all pretend?”
Jack held her gaze for a second, and then, with a decisive nod, said, “It was all pretend.”
“Please,” Connie pooh-poohed, shaking her head.
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “He was acting.”
But that just made her laugh. “He’s not that good an actor.”
“It was a fake relationship,” I said again.
“You’ve been sleeping together this whole time. Were you faking that?”
Jack looked down. “Hannah slept on the floor.”
This got her attention. “On the ceramic-tile floor?”
“I offered her the bed,” Jack said. “She wouldn’t take it.”
Now this, Connie was pissed about. She stood up and reached across the table to bat at Jack’s shoulder. “You let our Hannah sleep on that cold, hard floor? I raised you better than that! Be a gentleman!”