https://youtu.be/caKPpGT3DYQ

*NOTE: Check out the audiobook version of this chapter voiced by kaelking12 (Kristen M.)! Featuring music by The Victors, Saint Raymond, and All The Luck In The World.

Elias

I show up at my dad's a half an hour later wearing an outfit Jersey won't forgive me for buying.

It's not because it doesn't look good. I picked out a sleek, slate gray, fitted suit that had half the female staff drooling all over themselves when I tried it on. I got compliments left and right. One of them even got ballsy enough to try to ask for my number.

The only girl in the room not gawking at me was Jersey--which put me in a shitty mood. I walked out of the fitting room, looking GQ classy, and instead of falling all over herself, she decided to discuss government conspiracy theories with an old dude waiting for his turn to change. I stood right in front of her, cleared my throat, and she took one look at me--one--and then went right back to talking about Area 51 with Mr. fucking Rodgers.

I wouldn't have cared if he was senile or blind or whatever, but the dude was drooling through is dentures at the sight of Jersey in that dress.

The one I picked out especially for her.

Ancient or not, all guys dicks function the same way, and if the dude hadn't needed a little help from Viagra, his hard-on for Jersey would've been as obvious as my frustration.

So after she finished her ten minute spiel on alien invasions, I politely took her by the hand, led her to the check out, and that's when she freaked.

The thing is, Jersey's not used to how things work in the King family when it comes to money. My dad spends most of his income on good suits, better Brandy, and top-of-the-line cars, and he expects his sons to do the same. Tanner and I never bought into his material bullshit mostly because Mom brought us up humble.

But Dad resented the both us for taking after her. He would've sent Tanner to USC instead of UCLA if he could've. And, would've dragged me into business or law school if I hadn't been such a fuck up.

Luckily, the both of us got far enough away from him to try to live like normal people.

We don't talk about money, trust funds, or any of the crap dad has in place to set us up for life. But when we show up to his parties, we do it on his terms.

And his terms meant dropping no less than a grand on a suit. I just wish Jersey hadn't seen the price tag.

She hasn't said anything to me since.

I need her to start talking.

I need her to calm me down.

And I need her to stop scarfing down the bag of chips she found under the front seat and genuinely look at me instead of spacing out.

But like I said, the girl likes food more than me, so if I don't un-piss her off in the next thirty seconds, I might have to walk into my dad's party solo or bail on it all together.

"Alexandra Elisha Regazzi Summers," I say.

Her head snaps in my direction, and she stares at me opened mouthed and totally confused.

"Why are you using my whole name?"

"Because I want your attention--"

In more ways than one.

"--and I'm kinda getting jealous of that bag of chips."

She crumples the bag and tosses it into the back in one hurried motion. She's jittery, and embarrassed, and wired as balls, but I love her for it. She's crazy. But she's my kind of crazy. Real talk.

"What are you trying to say? That I'm fat? That my relationship with Doritos is more important than my relationship with you? Because I just so happen to care about people and food equally, and I don't appreciate you judging my eating habits. But you know what? Maybe you're right. Maybe I am a closet binge eater because I've been super hungry for the last hour, and it's starting to feel abnormal! Should we go to the hospital? I have my student health insurance! Where's my card?"

She bends over, grabs her purse, and ransacks her way through about half of her possessions before I stop her. I cup both of her hands in mine and kiss her knuckles to try to get her to calm down--which she does, eventually.

"Babe. We're not going to the hospital, you're not a binge eater, and normally, I'd be happy to watch you stuff your face, but we gotta go inside. My dad's waiting, and I need to tell you a couple things before we head in, okay?"

She nods like a small frightened animal. 

"Okay. But--for the record, I don't usually eat like that it's just that you spent so much money today, and I've never seen anyone spend that much all at once in my life so I panicked. Sorry. My mom gets anxiety attacks when the groceries are more than fifty dollars. It runs in the family."

I smile at her like an idiot because high Jersey is the cute, more neurotic, less angry version of her normal self, and I'm more into it than I should be.

"I figured. Look, I know I'm asking a lot with the whole fake girlfriend thing, but I need my dad to believe that we're for real--"

"And what if he doesn't? What if he realizes we're faking!?"

I pull her towards me and plant a slow kiss on the side of her cheek. She's got nacho powder scattered in random places across her face, so I brush it off before I pull away.

"He won't."

She scoots a couple inches back into her seat, pulls her legs up into her chest, and wraps her arms around her knees.

"But we're--we're so different now. All that couple-y stuff we used to do--the kissing, the hand holding, the crazy, stupid, romantic stuff--it isn't real anymore."

I want to kiss her. I want to lean across the car and show her how wrong she is. But she's curled up like a little girl hiding somewhere inside herself, and I can't bring myself to push her any further than she's ready to go.

I wish I knew how to be patient. How to wait. Because every signal she's sending me screams to slow down, ease up, keep your distance. But it's getting harder to leave her space.

"You're right,--"

You're wrong.

"--but we can pretend for a couple hours, right? We're the best pretenders we know."

But I don't want to pretend around you anymore.

She perks up. Always the happy actress. Never the real girl.

"You do have a point."

She chews on her bottom lip, and that telltale insecurity seeps into every inch of her face.

"Let's make it a bet. I bet you'll have my dad eating out of your hand at the end of the night. If I'm wrong, you can--"

"Can I punch you in the face if you lose? I think it's fair punishment for embarrassing me in front of a house full of strangers and your angry lawyer father. Deal?"

I remember her punches. For a girl her size, you'd think she couldn't throw a punch, but she's got wrecking ball fists that leave bruises.

Is having her be my fake girlfriend worth getting socked over?

Abso-fucking-lutely.

"Deal. Just try not to fall in love me again, alright? I'm known to sweep girls off their feet--"

She gags. Hopefully, it's not the last time I make her do that.

Wait, scratch that.

That's the last thing I'd want her to be.

A gagger.

Hmmm...think about it.

"--especially when it comes to making bets."

She opens the car door and tries to stomp her way toward the house without me, but she's too wobbly on her heels to get very far. I jump out after her and catch up in time to catch her by the hand. She stops at the bottom of my dad's driveway and stares me down.

"Look, Elias, while I may have agreed to this situation, I am fully aware of your antics. I am not seventeen anymore, I am not blind, or stupid, or--"

"Over me."

She scoffs.

"You're obnoxious."

"I'm honest. There's a difference," I say.

She waves off my comment by flinging her hand around in the air like she's swatting flies.

"Whatever. The point is, is over, this whole flirtationship is over. I am going back to being a single, well-adjusted, UCLA student, and you can go back to being a best-selling, book superstar or whatever. We will be friends who have put their pasts behind them. Okay? Okay. AND We will not speak of what happens in this house tonight to anyone ever again. If you do, I will deny it till Kingdom Come. Capisce?!"

She sticks out her finger and tries to shoot me one of her sniper glares, but her mouth starts twisting into a smile before she can stop it.

"You okay there, smiley?" I ask.

"I am not--"

A giggle goes shooting out of her mouth into the open.

"--smiling. I'm serious. I'm one hundred and fifty percent seri--"

She doubles over laughing, and I don't do a damn thing to stop her. I've missed the sound. I've missed seeing her smile, seeing her laugh. Seeing her living. She's fucking living and the weightlessness in her voice leaves some part of her high somewhere under my skin.

I take her by the hand, take hold of the moment, and start walking toward my dad's house like I can handle what's coming. Like I can handle him.

We reach the door, and I try to swallow my anxiety and let her laughter mellow out my nerves.

And it almost works.

The look on her face and the warmth of her hand in mine almost keeps me calm.

My heart's kicking up a storm in my chest, and I almost let it go wild.

Until my dad opens the door.

***

I don't know how to say hello to my father. Most sons do.

Whenever Tanner came home for the holidays or after school trips, him and Dad would pull each other into these man to man bear hugs I never understood. He knew dad was an asshole. He knew what he did to mom, and he still hugged him like he missed him. Like he loved him.

It's been years since my parents split up. Dad's dated other women, Mom's found other guys.

They've both moved on.

But I haven't.

I'm still trying to figure out how to love my dad.

And maybe that makes me a shitty person, but every time I step inside this house, I feel sick.

No matter how many times he renovates, I still see his failures written all over the walls.

"You're here," Dad says.

Not a "Good to see you".

Not a "Welcome back".

Not even a father-son slap on the back.

Just a quick, curt, "You're here."

Might as well be a polite fuck off.

"You asked me to be. I'd be a dick not to show up," I say.

My voice comes out hollow and aggressive, but he shrugs it off. I don't have any power here. This is his house now, not mine. The inside's totally different. The dark drapes he used to have scattered around the living room have been replaced with shimmery mint green ones. My mom's old couch is gone and some whiter than white poofy piece of shit is sitting in it's place. There are tacky tasseled gold pillows all over the place and pictures hanging on the walls that I don't recognize.

Dad's standing on his boat with a skinny blonde with unnaturally perky tits and a fake tan latched onto his arm. They're standing on the porch of his Florida beach house in one photo, then drinking wine somewhere in Europe in the next.

She's everywhere mom used to be but also everywhere she wasn't. Dad never took mom anywhere far. Just to local places he liked. Places they served food she didn't eat. Whoever this new chick is, he's serious about her.

At least until the next chick comes along.

Strike two.

I shift my focus back to Jersey and she grounds me with a nervous smile. She squeezes my hand, and I squeeze right back, so she feels how grateful I am for her being here. I'd be falling apart if she wasn't.

"Speaking of not showing up, Mr. King, I was hoping to meet you yesterday, but I didn't get the chance."

She shoots out her hand a little too quickly and pulls my dad into an earthquake level handshake.

"And, uh, you are?"

"Oh! I'm Alex. Well, Elias calls me Jersey, but my real name's Alex. Like Elias's middle name, but shorter. We're together, by the way. And he's great. Most of the time. Sometimes, he's a little friskier than normal but details. Speaking of details, I called you from the station like a bajillion times last night, and I couldn't get a hold of you. If you don't believe me, check your voicemail. That's my voice on all the messages. Did you get them?"

"I did. You're very persistent."

"So you do know how to answer a phone! Thank God! I was starting to think that you were one of those old people who didn't know how to work an iPhone, and that's just sad you know? Next time just call us back okay? We needed you yesterday."

Jersey's voice rattles out from her lips a million miles per hour, but every word's genuine. My dad stares at her for a couple seconds with no readable expression on his face before saying anything.

"What you two need is to stay out of trouble. I'm sorry my son pulled you into his problems."

"I didn't pull her into anything, Dad."

"Except kisses. He does that a lot. I like it."

Jersey steps right in the middle of me and my dad's pissing contest and diffuses the tension between us. She takes me by the chin out of the blue and plants a sloppy kiss on the side of my mouth. I can't even kiss her back with my dad watching. He folds his arms across his chest and eyes us with a smug smile on his face. He sizes her up in typical asshole prosecutor fashion and watches to see if it rattles her. To see if she'll shy away from me. But Jersey doesn't bat an eyelash. She grips my hand tighter even though I can feel her fingers shaking. Atta' girl.

"Well, you certainly know how to make an impression, young lady."

Alex wavers on her feet a little, but I move my hand to the small of her back to keep her steady.

"And you certainly know how to dodge a phone call, Mr. King."

My dad's eyes darken, but before he can say anything or let loose on the both of us, Jersey lets a hiss of a laugh slip through her teeth. For a couple seconds, my heart's beating so hard and fast I wonder if it'll jackhammer its way out of my chest.

But then the impossible happens.

My dad smiles.

Smiles.

And it isn't some power play. He's genuinely smiling at my girlfriend.

Something's fucking wrong with the universe.

He cocks his hand back, slaps me on the shoulder, and ushers the two of us inside like we're his guests of honor.

"I didn't think you'd bring home a spitfire of a young woman, but I like her spunk. Come on in, lunch is on the grill."

I guide Alex inside, and we walk into a wall of people. A pack of my dad's associates and co-workers are scattered around the living room with their trophy wives. Most of the chicks are tossing back martinis while their husbands swivel the best of my dad's liquor around in their glasses. I can tell which bottles he has out from the smell in the air.

I swallow my need for the taste and follow my dad into the kitchen with Jersey following close behind. As soon as my feet hit the marble tile, memories from last summer start flickering across my consciousness. I blink to block them out. I don't want to remember drinking till my mom found me passed out drunk. I don't want to remember the words I said to Lacey. I don't want to remember anything.

But I can't escape myself here.

No matter how badly I want to.

I stop walking, and Jersey catches on before I have a chance to figure out how to fake being okay.

She turns around, takes one look at me, and the sky high smile on her face almost disappears.

She knows.

She knows me better than she's ever admitted because she turns on her heels without saying a word and leads me away from my dad and his crowd. We stumble our way through a series of awkward judgmental handshakes and bullshit "Nice to meet you's" until there's nobody around to talk to.

Jersey pulls me into the downstairs guest bathroom like she's memorized the layout of the house and locks the door behind her.

I'm pretty sure she's only been here once before, and it's a night I'd rather her not remember.

I set her packing like an asshole, I yelled at her like an asshole, and I treated her like an asshole because that's who I was.

I didn't even show her around the place, but here she is navigating her way around the downstairs like a pro.

I don't know whether to be freaked out or impressed.

"We'll be safe in here!" She says, eyes wider than wide.

"How'd you even know where to find this room? Last time you were here, you were, we uh--we were upstairs."

"I know. I remember. Come to think of it, I remember a lot of things from that night that I wish I didn't, but I'm in a happily nervous place right now, so I'm not going to ruin it with crappy memories. Anyway, the only reason why I knew how to find my way to the nearest bathroom was because I'm a nervous pee-er, Elias. Nervous pee-ers always know where the bathrooms are. Quote me."

She flashes an East Coast confident smile, and I kiss it straight off her mouth. I can't help myself. I'm freaking the eff out. She looks fucking beautiful. We're locked in a room together. And she's using my lingo. What a woman.

I ease up on the lip action and wait for her to give me some kind of sign that she's enjoying it, but her mouth stays still. 

"Elias?"

"Yeah?"

I give her enough space to talk, but I'm struggling to keep my distance. I don't know how I ever left this girl. Kissing her still feels like breathing.

"I-I think my lips are numb. Is that normal? I don't think that's normal. What if I'm having an allergic reaction? What if I--"

I lean in and mold my mouth against hers again--except this time I pull her bottom lip between my teeth and bite down just enough to drive her crazy.

She kisses me back. Hard.

Yeah. She felt that.

"Better?" I ask.

She pulls away from me and stares at me starred-eyed.

"You're amazing sometimes, you know that?" She says.

I let out a ghost of a laugh and brush off the compliment. If she wasn't high, she wouldn't be talking like this. She'd probably would've slapped me for pulling the shit I have tonight, and for ignoring the fact that come, Sunday she'll probably go running back to her boyfriend, and for living in the past. But I have my reasons. As messed up as it was, the past may be the best thing I have to hold onto.

"No, I'm not. You're just high. Everything's amazing when you're high."

Even people like me.

"That is not true. Everything's horrifying except for you. You really were amazing earlier. You didn't see how cool you were in front of your dad. Honestly, when he first came out the door, I thought I couldn't go through with the whole fake relationship plan because he was so scary, but then I looked over at you, and you looked so--different, stronger like you could handle anything he threw your way. Even though he hurt you, you stood your ground. You were your own man, Elias. So trust yourself, okay? You didn't back down then, and you're not going to back down now. It's just a lunch. We can do this. We can do anything we want. We're royalty, remember?" 

Something in my chest ignites, and the heat from her words warms every inch of my body. I wish she could feel it. I wish she could know what her honesty does to me, but I don't have it in me to tell her. I'm scared. And so is she.

So neither of us speak.

She tangles her fingers in mine, and I pull her into the space carved out for her in my chest. I take a minute to take in the moment, to fall for the way she's mixing memories of the past with the best pieces of the present.

She cranes her head back to look up at me as I lean down to kiss away the furrows etched into her forehead. Her cheeks light up pastel pink and for a split second, she loses track of all her lies, lets the truth light up her lips.

She smiles at me like we never went wrong. Like life never left us bruised.

I hold her tighter until I feel her heartbeat echoing under my skin, rattling my bones, and ricocheting inside my ribcage.

And in that moment, I lose control.

I open my mouth, and the words come flying off my tongue and out into the silence before I can stop them.

"Alexandra Jersey Summers--"

"Okay wait, before you go on, my middle name is not Jersey, it's Elisha, and I expect you of all people to know that I--"

"--I love you."

"I'm sorry what?" She asks, her eyes just about popping out of her face.

Shit.

"Nothing."

"No, that wasn't nothing, I'm pretty sure you just said that you--"

"I didn't say anything. You're probably just hallucinating."

She gasps.

"Oh no! Am I? Maybe we should've gone to the ER. Hearing things is definitely, d-d-definitely a bad sign. As in I'll-have-to-have-brain-surgery-level bad sign. Honest to goodness, I swear you just told me you loved me, and that's crazy. Or maybe I'm crazy for thinking you said it."

I did. I'm just too chicken shit to say it again.

"You're not crazy, Jersey. Indigo probably just laced her stash with something weird. You'll be fine, but uh, for the record, if you're hallucinating my love confessions, I'm pretty sure that means you're in love with me."

She sighs in disgust and rolls her eyes halfway into the back of her head.

"Wow, okay. So since your ego has officially sucked the air out of the room, I'm going to leave. I'll be on the balcony if you need me."

"Wait a second."

I catch her by the shoulder before she leaves and turn her back around till we're standing face to face.

"What do you want now, Lover Boy? To keep me in here until I start hallucinating again?!"

"No, I just wanted to tell you that I--"

I choke.

"That you what."

"That I lo--like--yo--how you--you look nice."

She raises a skeptical eyebrow.

"Nice? That's it?"

All of the blood in my body goes rushing straight to my face. What the fuck is wrong with me.

"Uh, no. You look really uh--"

She looks me dead in the eye, and my lungs cave in, but I push through the anxiety anyway.

"Fuck it, you're beautiful, alright. Like, outta this world beautiful, and I don't know if it's the dress or your hair or just you, but I can't even look at you without tripping over myself. You're gorgeous, Jersey. Don't ever doubt that, okay?"

She does her best to hide the smile pulling at her lips, but it breaks through to the surface despite her.

"Normally, I'd say thank you, but since this is a hallucination/imaginary compliment I'm going to brush it off! Ha! Nice try, Mary Jane, but this time I'm not falling for your trickery a second time! See you outside, Elias!"

She storms out the door hair flying behind her and leaves me standing nearly speechless in the middle of the bathroom floor. 

I hang around for a couple seconds, just breathing in the ghost trails of her perfume and kicking myself for confusing Jersey into thinking that I didn't say what I did.

I never thought I'd say those words to someone again. Let alone in this house. But here I am.

So I whisper the truth into the silence where nobody hears it but me.

"I love you, Alex, and next time I say it, I won't let you leave until you know that I mean it." 

***

(Thank you guys so much for being so patient with this update! I'm going to do my best to restart much more regular updates. I'm going to aim for twice a week if I can, and at the minimum, once a week. You guys deserve to have more consistent updates, things have just been insanely busy since publishing the first CFTM audiobook. But Kristen and I want to thank everyone who has stuck with the book thus far! Can't wait to hear your thoughts on this chapter!)