Is Graham Jealous?

Whoa, Graham is back from camp and he is looking better than ever.

Dude is hot, hot, hot, standing there in dark-wash jeans that hug his strong legs and a tight black tee that makes him look massive.

But then I notice something else—he looks super pissed.

Wonder why?

Marching down the front steps, jaw set and fists clenched at his sides, he grinds out a curt, “Hey.”

I wave to him. “Hey, welcome back.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Okay, that was so not friendly.

I notice he’s glaring at my brother.

That’s weird.

Paul is just kind of standing there in awe—of the house, not my fake boyfriend.

I almost laugh out loud. It’s like poor Graham’s not even here. Not that Paul would be awestruck by him, anyway. My brother’s way more into art than he is into sports.

It’s kind of good.

The reprieve gives Graham a chance to really look over my brother. I think he sees he’s young. And then he notices the resemblance.

Graham blows out a clearly relieved breath.

Interesting.

Was someone jealous?

I think so.

“Oh,” Graham says, visibly relaxing. “This is your brother, Paul, right?”

I roll my eyes. “Yes, this is my brother.”

There were a couple of pictures of Paul in the info packets. Graham saw them, I’m sure.

Still, he obviously thought in his initial anger that I’d brought back some guy to the house.

Seriously?

And what would it matter if I did, anyway?

I almost blurt that out, but instead I offer an explanation as to why Paul’s with me.

“So, since this is Labor Day weekend, classes don’t start back for Paul till Tuesday. Most of his new friends were going home, so we decided I should pick him up so he can spend the weekend here.”

Paul, turning his attention to Graham, holds out his hand and says, “Hey, man, it’s good to meet ya.”

Graham shakes his hand and murmurs a lackluster, “Likewise.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you from Eden,” Paul goes on. “She got me all up to speed on the drive down here. She also said that, despite how weird this business arrangement you guys have is, you’re a pretty cool dude.”

Graham seems to soften at the compliment, but then his eyes widen as he realizes what he just heard—I’ve told Paul everything.

I couldn’t lie to my brother anymore. I never received explicit team approval, but Jock said I could do whatever I felt was best, so long as I made sure Paul remained discreet about it.

Coming clean was bound to happen. Paul and I are just too close. And I know I can trust him not to tell a single soul about my secret.

I make a mental note to relay all this to Graham when I have a chance so that he doesn’t stay angry.

But for now I just give him an I’ll-explain-later look.

Turning away from Graham, I say to my brother, “Come on, Paul.” I motion for him to follow me up the steps. “Let me show you around inside. I think you’ll like this place.”

“Sweet.” Paul bops up ahead of me, disappearing into the house.

I start to follow, but Graham catches my arm. Not that I’m complaining. I kind of like the way his warm, strong hand feels on me.

But my nice, fuzzy feelings turn to irritation when Graham hisses, “I thought the rules stated that we aren’t supposed to tell loved ones about this arrangement. I have a sister too, you know. One I’d like to come clean with, as well.”

“So go ahead and tell her,” I snap right the hell back, while disengaging my arm with a firm yank. “Paul’s not going to say anything to anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Among other things,” he murmurs.

“Hey, I actually had no choice but to tell him. He saw those stupid fake vacation pics online and asked me what was up. My brother, who I freaking live with, knows damn well I didn’t go anywhere in July. And he also knows I’ve never been out west. Not to mention, I didn’t like lying to him in the first place. I wasn’t about to keep it going and dig myself a deeper hole.”

Graham blows out a breath. “What about when your coworkers at the diner see those same pics, Eden? You worked there while I was away, right? I saw in the packet that you’re staying on.”

“I am, and I did,” I confirm. “But they haven’t mentioned one word about the pics.”

“What about when they do? Are you going to confess everything and invite them over to the house too?”

Jeez, Graham’s so tense.

Is this attitude really because I told Paul the truth?

I don’t know.

I sense this has more to do with Graham originally thinking my brother was some rando I brought back to the house.

Eww, as if.

And again, why would he care?

We decided keeping things platonic is the best course for us.

But is it really?

Ugh!

“No,” I volley back. “People at work don’t know everything about my life. So we’re safe there,” I huff loudly. “And by the way, I worked exactly two shifts while you were at camp. Everyone has bought our stupid, made-up backstory. In fact, they were all congratulating me on landing a”—I throw up sarcastic air quotes—“cute professional athlete.”

I stomp away before Graham has a chance to reply.

Argh, he makes me so angry.

But what does it matter?

It shouldn’t.

But it does.

Help!

Inside, I discover Paul has found the theater room downstairs. Hmm, I knew he’d like it here.

“You have your own movie room?” he asks, brows shooting up when I walk in.

“Yep”—I gesture to the wall to the right—“and there’s even a popcorn maker over there.”

“Damn, Eden.” He shakes his head. “Too bad I can’t move in here with you guys.”

I don’t want him getting any ideas about leaving school, so I quickly reply, “Hey, you live up in Mansfield now, bud. And those dorms looked pretty sweet to me. Besides, I thought you said you loved your new room.”

“I do, sure, but come on. This would be lit, coming home to this.”

I think it over and say, “Hey, tell you what. For as long as this arrangement lasts, would you want to stay here when you’re down here for breaks?”

He pumps his fist and replies, “Fuck yeah. Screw that old cruddy apartment.”

“Language, Paul,” I warn.

Sighing wearily, he says, “Eden, please. I’m fifteen, not five.”

“Still, work with me here. I’m just trying to do my best.”

He softens, draping a lanky arm around me. “I know, and I appreciate it. Really, I do. I also know why you agreed to pretend to be someone’s girlfriend.”

“Yeah,” I scoff, “for the money. Too bad I totally feel like I sold a little piece of my soul along the way.”

“You didn’t,” Paul insists. “You did this for us. You have to think of this as just another job.” He nudges me. “Kind of like that fake modeling gig you told me about, just with more acting.”

“Yeah, for sure,” I snort.

I’m glad Paul isn’t too mad at me for lying to him.

“Graham doesn’t seem so bad,” he says.

“No, he’s not,” I reply.

“So that’s cool. Be his fake girl or whatever, and collect your money at the end.”

“I already received a couple of payments,” I share with him, along with a sly smile.

Paul’s eyes widen. “What? No way! You’ve been holding out on me, dude. And, more importantly, why are you still driving around in that shitty-ass car?”

“Hey! First I’m not a dude, okay?”

Paul snickers. “Okay.”

“And secondly, my Saturn is not shitty.”

“Ah, it kind of is, sis.”

I shrug, conceding, “Okay, maybe it is a little. I honestly don’t know why I haven’t looked for something better. I guess it feels weird knowing I have more than ten dollars in my bank account.”

In a low conspiratorial voice, Paul asks, “Exactly how much do you have right now?”

Sheepishly, I reply, “I think there’s about $20,000 in there. No, wait, I received a bonus for moving in so fast, so make that $30,000.”

“$30,000!” my brother exclaims.

I can’t help but grin. “Yep.”

He grabs my hand. “Holy shit, come on.”

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“Car shopping.”