Page 91 of That Fake Feeling

ButIbet he’s talking toSterling, who’s called with some new elaborate activity for us to do.

AsIdrop into the chair next to him, he puts his arm around my shoulder.It’simpossible to fight the thrill that runs down my spine from his touch.

It’salso impossible to fight the shock that’s probably on my face asIlook at the screen and see his parents staring back at me.

“Oh.”Ican only hopeI’veswitched to a smile quickly enough. “Hi,Maggie.Hi,Jim.”

Maggiewaves. “Hello, my love.”

“Ijust wanted to tell you both something.”Connorpulls me closer to his side. “Youknow how we had to keep reminding you thatRoseandIwere onlypretendingto be together?”

Oh, shit, no.No.He’snot going to tell them, is he?It’sonly been a couple of days, for goodness’ sake.AndI’mabout to put a stop to it anyway.Ican’t let him do this.

“Yes, yes.It’sgoing well,”Itell them.

“Itis,” saysConnor. “Sowell that—”

“Toysales are up,”Ibutt in with a giant smile.

Christ,Ihave to stop him.Ifhe tells them we’re together and then he has to tell them an hour from now thatIbroke it off,I’llmake him look like a complete fool to his parents.Ican’t do that to him when his biggest paranoia is that his family thinks he’s a total wreck.

Theonly thingIcan do is try my damnedest to derail this conversation and wrap it up quickly.

“Anda lot of that is thanks to you two.”Iapplaud the screen. “ThePRguy is delighted with the family barbecue photos.He’splanning to drip them out next week.So, thank you both very much for taking part in that.”

Ihave to keep talking for as long asIcan, knockConnoroff his stride. “Andwe had a great day atTheLearningVillage.DidConnortell you about it?”

“No,Ihadn’t mentioned tha—”

Ipat him on the shoulder andIinterrupt again. “Oh, he was amazing.Youwould have been so proud of him.Thekids loved him.”Maggieputs her hand on her heart. “Hegot them all singing.Whoknew he could play the guitar?”

“That’shis misspent youth finally making itself useful,”Jimsays.

“Well, it was great.Andhe organized them to paint the music room.”

MaggieandJimwiden their eyes and smile.

Iglance atConnor, who looks the happiestI’veseen him.Hisparents’ pride is clearly a balm.

“Notjust that, though.Hedrew a giant mural of musical instruments that covered a whole wall, and all the kids painted it, and it was amazing.”

I’msitting here describing a spectacular human.Onewho’s smart and fascinating and has so many dimensions.Exactlythe sort of human anyone would be lucky to be with.

“Hewas always good at art,”Maggietells me.Hereyes move to look atConnoron their screen. “Sucha shame you don’t have time for a hobby like that.”ShenudgesJim. “Rememberthe painting he did of the neighbor’s cat?”

“Oh, that’s right.”Jimraises his finger in recollection. “Theywere so touched when he gave it to them after she passed away.”Helooks atMaggie. “Whatwas her name?Misty?Yes,Misty.”

Hegave the neighbors a painting of their dead cat?Sothere’s always been a warm heart trapped under all the bravado?

“Oh,”Iadd, whileI’mon a roll of makingConnorlisten to how proud his parents actually are of him in all ways. “Hedonated a mountain ofBigBraintoys toTheLearningVillagetoo.”Ilean closer to the screen. “Also, and this was even a surprise for me, he ordered aSensationalSprinklestruck.Thestaff loved it as much as the kids.”

Christ, he is quite the dream man, isn’t he?

Thethought stops my flow of words for just long enough forConnorto speak.

“Andguess who understands cinnamon and peanut butter go together as well asIdo.”

Hefinger-guns me.