Page 5

5

Taylor

T here’s something strangely comforting about being here, nestled in Elias’s childhood home with his family. Back in Boston, I’ve stumble over my words around him more times than I care to admit. Shocking, I know. But now? Watching Elias squirm under the weight of his family’s pointed questions, nervous energy practically rolling off him, I feel… calm. Like I’m soaking up all that jittery tension, soothing it, and sending it back to him with every smile, every quiet glance.

It’s working too. His thigh hasn’t stopped brushing mine under the table. A little nudge here, a casual press there. Can everyone else in the room feel the tension? If they can, I guess that’s a good thing. I am, after all, here to fool them into believing I’m his girl. A smile spreads across my face, not just because the lasagna is ridiculously good, but because for once,I’m the one taking care of Elias.

Elias, the guy who’s been a step ahead of me since I moved to Boston, always shielding me, watching over me, making sure I’m home tucked into my bed every night—alone. And my brother, who thinks I need bubble wrap just to get through the day. They’ve both spent months treating me like I’d break if the wind blew too hard. But here I am, keeping Elias steady as his mom peppers him about marriage and his dad chimes in about grandkids. Honestly, I don’t hate it. Being around this big table feels right. Reminds me of my younger, happy days.

Speaking offeels—did he just touch me?

A little jolt shoots through me as Elias’s fingers graze mine under the table. Was that on purpose? A quiet “thank you” for running interference? I glance at him out of the corner of my eye. He’s wiping his mouth with his napkin, totally at ease now as he and his dad rehash a botched play from his last game. I take a sip of wine, pretending not to notice, but my pulse betrays me, thudding wildly.

Ugh, I really wish I didn’t want him so much.

I turn to smile at Grandma—the matriarch of the family—sitting at the head of the table, close to me. Those sharp, all-seeing eyes of hers are studying everyone around the table, and a measure of guilt nips at me. I don’t enjoy trying to pull one over on these nice people, and I really hope she doesn’t know what’s going on here, that Elias and I are faking…everything. I fight the urge to squirm under her gaze, keeping my expression neutral.

“How long is your program at Boston College, love?” Grandma asks as she reaches for her wine.

The table falls silent, all eyes suddenly on me. I set my glass down. “Two years.” Two years to figure out what the hell I’m going to do with my degree.

“Have you always wanted to be an actress?” His dad Randall chimes in, his smile effortlessly charming.

I gulp, the lie thick in my throat. I had no idea it would be so hard to pretend with these people. But I agreed to this charade, so here we go. “Oh, yes. For as long as I can remember.”

Grandma’s sharp eyes narrow, pinning me in place like she’s dissecting every syllable.

“Well, I mean…” My voice wavers, and Elias tenses beside me, his knee brushing mine in subtle reassurance. “After high school, I sort of floundered for a bit. I did a few college courses online, which, fortunately counted toward my degree. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do. I thought about accounting—my dad’s an accountant—but just saying the word…” I shiver dramatically. “Math makes me break out in hives.”

The room bursts into laughter, the tension lifting. But when the chuckles die down, my heart squeezes tight. “After Mom… well, after we moved into my grandmother’s house, everyone was grieving. Her death hit us hard. Mental health, you know? It’s something people don’t talk about enough.”

The table grows quiet again, but this time it’s a good kind of quiet—thoughtful, engaged. I take a steadying breath, the memories flooding back. “I missed the laughter of my childhood. So, I’d dress up in Grandma’s clothes and dance around the house to make everyone laugh. It was silly, but it helped. It felt like I was giving them a little piece of happiness when we needed it most.”

Cheryl leans forward, her expression softening. “That’s very emotionally intuitive for a young girl,” she says quietly, her voice tinged with something I can’t quite place—loss, maybe? Guilt?

I glance at her, but she’s already dropped her gaze to her plate, her fork moving aimlessly. Damn.

Way to crash the dinner vibe, Taylor .

“Well, dear,” Grandma teases with a playful wink, “I could probably rustle up some clothes for an after-dinner show if you’re feeling nostalgic.”

Laughter once again ripples around the table. I grin, shaking my head. “No offense, Grandma—and I’m sure your wardrobe would look fabulous on me—but I think my dressing-up days are reserved for the stage now.”

“I think she’s been itching for a swim, actually,” Elias explains.

“Oh, I’d lovea swim.” I meet his gaze with a grateful smile. I love being here with his family, but some alone time would be nice too. Or dangerous…

Around the table, the conversation shifts, the mood lightening again. But as Elias’s thigh presses just a little more firmly against mine, I suddenly can’t help but worry about the night ahead—the two of us in his bed.

Turning my attention to Randall, I ask with a curious tilt of my head, “Did you always know you wanted to go into politics?”

His face lights up, his smile as wide and confident as a campaign poster. “I did,” he says proudly. “My father was a politician, so it was natural for me to follow in his footsteps. I’m sure Elias has told you that.”

“Of course,” I reply quickly. The truth is while I know Elias, there’s a lot I don’t know about him. Maybe we should have compared notes before coming here to fool his family.

Randall leans back, his tone shifting slightly as he adds, “I always thought Elias might follow the same path.” With one arched brow he glances at his son. “He did, after all, go to Harvard and study political science.”

Wait. What? Harvard? Political science? I blink, doing my best not to gape at the man beside me. Elias’s leg stiffens, and I can feel his discomfort radiating like heat through his tailored pants.

“You must be so proud of him,” I say in an even voice, even though my mind is still racing.

Randall nods. “We are. And who knows, maybe someday he’ll put that degree to use.”

Quickly coming to Elias’s defence, I counter, “I think he’s already putting that degree to use.” I glance at Elias to find him frowning at me, no doubt wondering where I’m going with this. I’m about to show him. “He’s a strategic thinker, amazing at conflict resolution, and a fantastic communicator. All those skills are critical on the ice. And I’m guessing what he didn’t learn in the classroom, he picked up from you, Randall.”

Randall’s brow arches in mild surprise, and I press on, feeling Elias shift beside me, his tension softening just a little. “It’s easy to see he got his fighting spirit, kindness and honesty from you,” I add with a teasing smile.

Randall cocks his head thoughtfully, but before he can respond, I rest my hand lightly on Elias’s arm. He turns to look at me, his gaze softer now, curious. I meet his eyes and continue, “He’s a man of integrity, who cares a lot about others.” Not only am I in his home because he cares about his family and wants to eventually give them what they want for him—marriage, children, happiness—the man bought a new house and was worried about moving out and hurting my brother’s feelings. Who does that? I pause, swallowing the lump in my throat. What girl wouldn’t fall for a man like that?

Not that I’m falling for him or anything. Sure, he’s the kind of hot that could melt glaciers, and yes, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to see him naked—again. But let’s be real. This whole relationship thing? It’s a performance, a beautifully staged play with an inevitable curtain call. Nothing more. Besides, I’m not even close to settling down. There’s too much world I need to explore, too many wild adventures waiting for me. Love is for later. Much, much later. Or at least, after living with a controlling brother, that’s what I keep telling myself.

Randall lets out a hearty laugh, breaking the moment. “Are you sure you don’t want to get into politics, Taylor? I could use someone like you in my corner.”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “While I appreciate the vote of confidence, right now I’m perfectly happy in Boston, doing what I do.”

“Speaking of Boston,” Cheryl says. “We’re going to have to make a trip east to see your new place, Elias.”

He smiles. “It’s a mess right now. I don’t even have any furniture, but I’m working on it.”

Grandma smiles. “When you get settled, we’ll come. Plus, I want to see your play, Taylor.”

“Maybe after the new year,” Elias says. “That’ll probably be a good time.”

“Are you two…” Cheryl begins her gaze going back and forth between the two of us. “Living together at the new house?”

“I live with my brother,” I quickly point out. If we’re going to have a breakup later, it might be more complicated to explain the details if we’re living together. “He keeps a close eye on me,” I joke, but it’s true. “He just wants to see me get my education, with no distractions.”

“Coolidge is your brother,” Randall states, as he reaches for his garlic bread, a small smile on his face. “Such a great player, and nice that the guys were roommates for so long.” His bread crushes as he bites into it, and a second later he picks up his fork, waves it between Elias and me. “That’s how you two met?” I nod, all attention on me as he continues, “And you go by Turner?”

“My mother’s maiden name,” I explain. “A way to honor her, and I thought it would be better for the stage.”

God, I’m finding it hard not to be the real me. I’m supposed to be playing a role here—Elias’s adoring girlfriend, and the adoring part is easy, considering I adore everything about him. But really, I’m supposed to be an aspiring Hollywood actress, a girl of value to these people. Instead, I just spilled my heart out about my family’s mental health struggles. Not exactly the glamorous, put-together image I’m supposed to project.

“I think it suits you,” Grandma says suddenly, breaking through my thoughts as she pats my hand, her tone warm and knowing.

I force a smile, grabbing my fork like it’s a lifeline. “I think this suits me,” I say, stabbing a big, heaping bite of lasagna. I chew, swallow and follow it with a sip of wine. “Although my hips would beg to differ.”

Grandma chuckles. “I’ll tell you what,” she teases with a sly grin. “You give me your grandmother’s secret waffle recipe, and I’ll hook you up with my lasagna recipe.” She winks, leaning back with the confidence of someone who knows she holds all the cards. “I don’t give it to just anyone, you know.”

I laugh, playing along. “You’ve got a deal. Wait, do you have a waffle maker?”

“If we don’t, I’m ordering one from Amazon right now,” Elias says and pretends to reach for his phone.

“You’ve never had her waffles?” Grandma asks, and somehow, maybe it’s because of her smirk, I’m not sure she’s really asking about waffles.

“Uh…I’ve never spent Thanksgiving with her before,” Elias responds.

Cheryl, clearly backtracking, raises an eyebrow, mock-offended. “You’ve never given your lasagna recipe to me , ” she says, shaking her head.

“In good time, Cheryl,” Grandma teases, patting my hand again like I’m her new favorite person. “Besides, Elias here needs a good meal once in a while in Boston. Lord knows the man can’t cook.”

“Iknow , ” I chime in with a laugh, glancing at him. “We all take turns cooking at home, and when it’s Elias’s turn?” I scrunch up my nose, shaking my head. “Just… no.”

“Hey,” Elias shoots back, his voice full of mock indignation. “I’m not that bad.”

I grin at him, tilting my head. “We all have our skills, babe. Yours just aren’t in the kitchen.”

The table erupts in laughter, and even Elias can’t help but join in, though his eyes narrow playfully at me.

“Fine, Grandma, you can take my place in the kitchen tomorrow morning.”

“It’s settled then. Taylor and I will cook breakfast.”

Elias shakes his head. “Ousted in my own family home,” he mutters, though there’s a twinkle in his eyes when he looks up at me.

I relax in my seat, and this time, I’m the one moving my leg to touch Elias. It feels good, being here, even if I’m balancing the fine line between truth and fiction. That’s not entirely true. I’m doing a terrible job at the fiction part and truth be told, Elias is probably going to be upset with me that I’ve gone off script, told too much about myself and family. Dammit, he asked one thing of me and I’m pretty sure I messed that up.

“Why don’t you two run off and have that swim?” Grandma suggests with a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

“I can help with the dishes,” I offer quickly.

“Phooey.” She waves us away dismissively, her eyes twinkling. “No one uses that pool anymore. It’s about time it got some action.”

A blush creeps up my neck as Elias groans loudly, his hands covering his face. “Grandma, you’re killing me.”

I can’t help but smile at the adorable mess of him. “I actually didn’t bring a suit.”

Grandma shoots up from her seat. “Oh, I have?—”

“Grandma,” Elias warns, his voice pleading.

“What?” Grandma throws her arms up in the air. “She said she likes granny clothes.”

“Granny clothes, sure,” I tease with a wink. “But Elias’s sister’s clothes will work too.”

Grandma returns that wink as Cheryl chimes in. “We keep brand new suits in the spare room next to Elias. Help yourself, Taylor. I’m sure you’ll find something that fits.”

With that, Elias and I excuse ourselves and make our way upstairs. “Grandma is a riot,” I say as he leads me to the spare bedroom.

“Real comedian,” he agrees, and even though he’s pretending not to be impressed with her antics, the love he feels for the woman is evident. “In there,” he says. “I’ll grab my suit.”

I hurry to the dresser, and once I find something I think will be suitable, I make my way back to ‘our’ room to find Elias rummaging through his dresser. He looks up when I enter, those warm eyes immediately softening.

“You find something?” I nod and hold up the one-piece suit. He gestures with a nod. “You take the bathroom. I’ll just change in here.”

He finally pulls out a suit, and when he turns back and finds me still standing there, he angles his head. “Elias…” My voice cracks unexpectedly.

His expression shifts instantly, worry flashing in his eyes. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

I swallow hard, my breath shaky. “Your family…they’re so nice. I wasn’t expecting them to be like this, and they didn’t even seem to be bothered by our age gap. Honestly, from everything you said, I thought they’d be… harder on me.” I shake my head, my uncertainty growing. “Wait, did we want them to be mean? Did I mess up? I tried so hard to be Hollywood Taylor Turner. I didn’t realize things were going to get real.”

He exhales a tortured breath, his shoulders slumping. “Taylor…”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my heart sinking. “I’ll do better.”

“It’s okay.” His voice is soft but firm. “They like you.”

I shake my head. “Do you think things got too real?”

“No, after my last…” He lets his words fall off and as I take in the pained expression on his face, I let it go. I’m aware that something happened in a previous relationship, but because he and my brother treat me like their kid sister, I’m not in the know.

Deciding to let it go, he obviously doesn’t want to talk about it, I begin, “I mean, I told them about my broken family, mental health issues. That’s not what they want for you, is it? What you do and who you’re with reflects on them, right? I want to do this right for you, Elias.”

Elias stops, his eyes softening as they lower. He scrubs his chin. “Right, and you know how much I appreciate that, Taylor.” Then, in a voice so quiet I almost miss it, he mumbles, “We lost Mom’s dad a long time ago. He had PTSD.” His eyes lift to mine. “It was tragic, and while he was getting help…in the end, he just couldn’t do life anymore. I think Mom always blamed herself for some reason. That’s probably why she said you were very intuitive. She liked that.”

“Oh God, Elias, I didn’t know. I shouldn’t have said anything. Here I was worried about bringing down the vibe during dinner, but it was way worse than I thought. I brought back bad memories for everyone. I just?—”

“You were real, and that’s actually what they liked.” He snorts. “Not too many real people in their world.” Under his breath, he adds, “Or mine.”

“But still, Elias, they want so much for you. The right pedigree. A Hollywood star.” I throw my hands up in a dramatic gesture. “You told me about the important women they’ve been trying to set you up with. Sure, I was real, but they still think I’m going to be someone important. Someone with the right image for the family.” As I consider that, I’m not sure I entirely agree with his take on all this. Maybe they were just setting him up with people they knew. People from their world. Maybe it doesn’t have to do with pedigree at all.

He shakes his head, and I know this is all messed up, but fortunately we’ll be ‘breaking up’ shortly, and none of this will matter.

If it doesn’t matter, Taylor, why do you have a knot in your stomach?

Oh, because I like these people.

I like Elias…

He stares off, his mind somewhere else when he murmurs, “I just needed this charade to buy me time until I find someone, but now they’ve gone and fallen for you and that complicates everything.”

I groan. “I wasn’t necessarily trying to make them love me. I just wanted to make them believe we were in love, or at least in a committed relationship.”

Back in the moment, he consoles me. “It’s okay, and hey, everyone wants to be liked, and you might not be in Hollywood, but you’re still a star.” He gives me a grin, letting me know it’s all okay, even though we both know it’s not.

“I’m just…I’m sorry. I don’t want to mess this up for you.”

“Hey Taylor, no. Stop. You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” He steps closer, his thumb gently lifting my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “You can’t help but be who you are.”

I throw my hands up, my pulse racing as his closeness messes with my head. “Flaws and all?”

“Flaws and all,” he agrees, his voice husky as he takes another step closer. I lift my face to his, the tension between us so thick I can taste it. I’m about to speak, say something, anything, but then, just like that, his lips are on mine.

Elias Ariti is kissing me.

OMG, Elias Ariti is kissing me.

Not treating you like a kid sister now, is he, Taylor?

Nope, no he’s not and I have to push him away. I need to push him away. We can’t be doing this no matter how much I want this…and more.

Then why the heck aren’t you pushing him away, girlfriend?